Carabelle: I Am Girl

By Renée Lichtenhan

Twelve-year-old Carabelle can't wait to spend the summer with her best friend, Gracie,  swimming all day and watching movies all night. While Carabelle's single mom works, the pair of besties dive into their adventures. But when a tragic accident tears Carabelle from her home and everyone she loves, she no longer knows where she belongs.

 

Carabelle finds herself trapped in a foster home with the school bully, Drake Duff, and becomes a prisoner to her own bitterness and anger. The only thing that can set her free is the power of forgiveness. And the only way to find it is by exploring some hard, painful truths that will tie her to Drake forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renee Lichtenhan
• Release date: Jul 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201570309

Renée Lichtenhan

Renée Lichtenhan's "I Am Girl" novels grew out of years of working in children's ministries. Renée loves the way kids' minds, hearts, and souls are so open.  She stives to engage her young readers in a way that encourages faith and virtue to take shape within that openness. She lives in Mississippi with her husband, Joe, and has three grown children. 

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

EVERY WRITER NEEDS the freedom to bask in imagination. I thank my parents, Larry and Lori Shervey, for an unhurried childhood that set my creativity on fire. Thank you for believing in my dream of becoming an author and for sitting through a read- aloud of my entire manuscript (that’s some love, right there).

Although the soul is a mysterious thing, I know one thing about mine — it’s made of the same stuff as my husband, Joe’s. When I consider acknowledging his contribution to this book, I am overwhelmed by his contribution to my entire life. Joe, you are my most cherished gift.

All of my children, Tessa, Evan, and Ava, have supported my writing in different ways. Tessa, thank you for poring over my manuscripts and giving me brilliant insights. Ava, thank you for believing in my dreams and encouraging me to reach for them. Evan, thank you for holding me to high standards and for being my grounded realist.

Julia Huffman, thank you for reading through my first draft and for the funny, supportive texts you sent from the school bus. I consider you my first fan. If you end up being one and only fan, that is fine with me.

I am grateful for the Catholic Writer’s Guild for opening doors and giving me the skills and courage to step through them.

My editor, Stephanie Eding, was enthusiastic about taking on this project and a joy to work with. Thank you for taking a chance on my work, Stephanie, and for polishing it up all shiny.

Finally, I thank God for grabbing a hold of my shoulders and rattling me around to get my ears to open a little wider. I never like it when he does that, but I have to admit, it was the most effective way to get this book written. I pray it touches the lives He means for it to touch.

1

Trouble on the Bus

SPLAT.

A soggy spitball slammed into Carabelle’s curly mane of hair. She didn’t bother to turn around in her front school bus seat to find out who had hurled it at her.

Carabelle’s best friend, Gracie Edmund, who always sat beside her, spun herself toward the chaos, her orange hair blazing. Who did—?

Splat.

A bigger spit wad hit Gracie on the cheek. It clung to her skin and slid down her freckled face. A few giggles erupted from the crowd, but one taunting laugh drowned all the others out. Anybody with ears knew the familiar sound of Drake Duff delighting in his latest cruel stunt.

Drake had caused trouble every day this year in their sixth-grade class. In fact, he had caused trouble as far back as Carabelle could remember. She tried to avoid him, but it seemed impossible in their tiny Dixie, Mississippi, school.

If she had been his only victim, Carabelle would have ignored the spitball incident. But, Gracie wasn’t exactly the ignoring type. Carabelle groaned under her breath when Gracie clenched her fists and yelled, Where is that jerk?

Gracie! Carabelle tossed a worried glance toward the bus driver, but he didn’t appear to notice Gracie’s outburst. If she didn’t calm down, she’d get herself into trouble. Scurrying to quiet her, Carabelle climbed to her knees to face backwards like Gracie. She struggled to balance as the bus rumbled and bounced.

Well, I’ve had it! I’m sick of that kid! Her braid whipped against her backpack as she snapped her attention toward the rear of the bus again.

Raising her voice over the roar of the bus engine and the noisy kids, Gracie shouted, What’s the matter with you, Drake? Too scared to show your face? Huh? Oh, I see you! You little—

Carabelle clamped a hand over Gracie’s mouth. Stop it, Gracie! Don’t let him get to you. Just ignore him. We’re almost home, and then it’s summer break. We won’t have to see him for three months.

With a huff, Gracie flopped down on the seat. Carabelle caught the bus driver’s disapproving glance in the big rearview mirror as he shouted, Stay seated! You know the rules!

Carabelle pulled Gracie down further, out of the bus driver’s sight.

Gracie narrowed her eyes and whispered, "Really? We’re the ones he yells at?"

Forget about it. It doesn’t matter. You know why? Carabelle’s mind raced through possible ways to shift Gracie’s focus onto something else before she caused a scene again.

Why? Gracie’s eyes widened.

Clearly, she expected some fascinating bit of news or gossip.

Carabelle actually did have something she’d been dying to tell Gracie all day, but she’d planned to wait until later. She didn’t want anyone on the bus to overhear.

Well, um... Should she tell her now? Here? She tucked her hair behind her ears as she scanned the packed bus. No, too many people. She’d at least wait until the seats nearby were empty.

Gracie waited, her fingers drumming against the seat. Why? Why? Why?

Carabelle brightened with a good-enough reason. Well, we’re officially on summer break! We’re gonna watch movies late at night, make popcorn. Oh! Remember that time we swam at midnight?

Gracie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Carabelle, stop. Out with it. Tell me. Carabelle sighed. She motioned for Gracie to come closer and whispered into her ear.

So, we’ll be at the middle school next year right? Gracie nodded.

Carabelle looked over her shoulder to ensure nobody was listening. Drake Duff won’t be there.

Gracie scrunched up her face. What do you mean?

He flunked sixth grade, Carabelle whispered.

Gracie gasped. No way! How do you know?

The bus slowed, the brakes hissing as it rolled to a stop. Carabelle paused as a line of kids passed by on their way out the door. The smell of exhaust swirled with freshly mown grass and drifted through the bus.

Gracie’s brother, Ethan, had left his high school friends in the back and slipped into an empty seat in front of the girls. Their six-year-old sister, Annie, scooted in beside him.

Ethan scowled at Gracie and lowered his voice. What’s gotten into you? You shouldn’t yell at people like that!

The bus lurched and roared forward as Gracie’s blue eyes darkened.

Drake Duff is not a person! He’s a monster! She slammed a fist against the seat.

A mon-ther? Annie still couldn’t make the S sound very well.

Shhhhh! Ethan shot her an annoyed look. He glanced nervously in Drake’s direction and lowered his voice. Gracie, he’s not a monster.

Whatever. Anyway, get this. Carabelle says he flunked. Gracie smiled and launched into a peppy little seat bounce.

He fwunked? Annie shrieked.

Shhhhh! All three of them shushed her at once.

How do you know? Ethan leaned in closer to Carabelle.

The thrill of knowing something they didn’t sent an exciting flutter into Carabelle’s belly. Three sets of surprised eyes landed on her, waiting for the dirt on Drake.

Well, I was bringing my teacher’s paperwork to the office, and I heard his dad talking to the principal. Considering it further, she added, "Actually, yelling at the principal. He was throwing a fit about how Drake shouldn’t be held back because he was smart. He went on and on about how dumb the teachers are and how they’re really the problem. Principal Harris kept on saying, ‘I’m sorry Mr. Duff, Drake’s not ready for middle school.’ Then, he ran out in a huff, slamming the door so hard I thought the windows would break."

Everyone in town knew Mr. Duff. As the town mechanic, his yard was like a graveyard for old cars and trucks. Car parts littered the weedy lawn of his small, run- down home. Mr. Duff usually wore a filthy, sleeveless T-shirt and baggy jeans. He spent his days bent under the hood of a vehicle, his large belly pressed against the engine.

Carabelle grew up without a dad, so her mom had taught her how to fix things like flat bike tires and burnt-out light bulbs. When it came to cars, though, her mom had no clue. Whenever their old car broke down, they took it to Mr. Duff. On those visits, Carabelle made a point not to crinkle her nose at his sweaty smell until he’d sunk his scowling face under the hood of the car. Carabelle’s mom always nudged her and wagged a scolding finger at her for making a face, but bottled-up laughter also danced in her mom’s eyes.

Carabelle beamed at Gracie, and they exchanged a high five. So, it’s true. Drake Duff will not be moved up to the middle school building next year.

Yes! Gracie raised both arms and did a seated happy dance.

Man. Poor kid, Ethan said.

Gracie stopped dancing and stared at her brother. How can you forget all of the mean things he does to people? He deserves this! Don’t you remember when he stuck his foot out into the bus aisle and tripped Annie? She’s a five-year-old little girl, for crying out loud!

Yeah! Don’t you remember that? Annie stuck her button nose an inch from her brother’s.

Ethan frowned. Yeah, I remember.

Gracie tried again. Okay, well, if that doesn’t seem to bother you, how about the way he makes fun of Carabelle for living in a trailer and shopping at yard sales?

Carabelle’s face warmed with embarrassment. Why did she have to bring that up again? She’d rather forget the time Drake spotted her digging through piles of clothes at a yard sale last year. She’d been lost in the fun of pulling together some really cute outfits when she noticed him pointing and snickering at her from across the street. She didn’t think anything of it until Drake blabbed around school that her clothes came from yard sales. When some of the boys called her poor trash, she’d wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole. Just her luck, Gracie wasn’t at school that day, and the other girls left her sitting alone at lunch.

It’s a good thing she always kept fashion magazines and a sketch pad in her backpack. That day at lunch, she’d thumbed through them it as if she’d sat alone on purpose. As it turned out, they’d done her a favor because that’s when she discovered an ad for a fashion design school in New York. A marvelous dream took shape in her mind. One day, she’d study there and become a famous fashion designer. Her mom could quit working so hard, ditch her old waitress and maid