{"product_id":"on-the-come-up-isbn-9780345804860","title":"On the Come Up","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eAn NAACP Image Award Finalist\u003cbr\u003eAn ALA\/YALSA Alex Award Nominee\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eAnnMarie is growing up fast. After years of living in foster homes and homeless shelters, the twelve-year-old girl can take care of herself and her ailing mother. At thirteen, she's competing with other girls for the attention of older boys in the hip hop and rap scene of Far Rockaway.  At fourteen, she is in love and pregnant, but dreaming big. Taking a chance, she auditions for an independent film and—astonishingly—lands a lead role. As she tries to raise her baby girl and make sense of her relationship with her baby's father, her work on the movie offers AnnMarie a doorway to a wider world—Brooklyn, Manhattan, and the Sundance Film Festival.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eWith cinematic pacing and a vibrant voice, filmmaker Hannah Weyer’s unforgettable debut novel is a portrait of a tough, determined teenage girl striving to find the life she wants and the love she deserves.\u003c\/p\u003e\"Luminous. . . . AnnMarie is a survivor with rare spirit.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e     —\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003ePeople\u003c\/i\u003e, four stars\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I couldn't put this book down. This world, this voice, this young woman are all so vividly raw and honest, that my heart was broken open, and I was hooked until the very last page.\"\u003cb\u003e \u003cbr\u003e     —\u003c\/b\u003eKerry Washington, actress, \u003ci\u003eScandal\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Formidable. . . . A moving account of AnnMarie’s struggle to free herself of her baby’s poisonous father and leverage her experiences into a better life.” —\u003ci\u003eSan Francisco Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“Weyer writes with confidence and agility, and readers will quickly sink into the groove of her storytelling.” —\u003ci\u003eThe Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“AnnMarie is a tenacious and lovable character. . . . Fans of Sapphire’s \u003ci\u003ePush \u003c\/i\u003ewill especially appreciate the honesty and realism of filmmaker and first-novelist Weyer’s writing.” —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I fell in love with AnnMarie Walker, a hopeful and headstrong heroine who invents her own chances, turning the smallest opportunities into rare achievements. Here’s a book for anyone who’s ever seen the way the sun shines in a classroom they cannot enter and still wanted that light to shine on them. First you have to want it and this is how it’s done, from victim to victor. A remarkable gift to readers.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eTupelo Hassman, author of \u003ci\u003eGirlchild\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Pitch-perfect. It’s impossible not to root for AnnMarie, a heroine as resilient as she is vulnerable. Weyer is a deeply humane writer who pulls the reader into an inner-city world that’s utterly distinct, yet profoundly relatable.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eJonathan Odell, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Healing\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Vibrant. . . . Compassionate. . . . Inspiring . . . without losing its sharp, realistic edge.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cp\u003eHannah Weyer is a filmmaker whose narrative and documentary films have been screened at the Human Rights Watch and the New York Film Festivals and have won awards at the Sundance, Locarno, Melbourne, Doubletake, and South by Southwest Film Festivals. Her screenwriting credits include \u003ci\u003eLife Support\u003c\/i\u003e (2007), directed by Nelson George, which earned a Golden Globe Award for its lead actress, Queen Latifah. Weyer has worked with teens in the media arts for the past fifteen years and, along with her husband, the filmmaker Jim McKay, started an after-school film club at a public high school in Brooklyn. \u003ci\u003eOn the Come Up\u003c\/i\u003e is her first novel.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eChapter 15\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eAll the bus rides back and forth, AnnMarie had time to think. Out to Jamaica where the school was. The Ida B. girls housed on the ground floor of a three-story cement building used by Rainbow Academy, a suspension site for violent offenders. All the last-chance kids no school wanted. The bus winding along Snake Road past the airport, planes hovering mad low in the icy sky, one after another, their bellies looming as they made their descent. AnnMarie would turn her face from the window. She thought about the little things. Like how she had to pee all the time, how she felt bloated like a whale—face, feet, hands, stomach, legs—but she couldn’t help herself. Pangs a hunger gnawing, she’d go through boxes of saltines with cheese spread, peanut butter out the jar, oranges, mangoes, cornflakes with milk. Song fragments drifted in. She’d try to piece them together, search for the words gone missing but was frustrated by her own fatigue.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe thought about the last time she got up on stage to sing. At the white school over in Cedarhurst. About Mr. Preston’s expression, that look of relief. All the white kids filing out. Principal Man never made no introductions. A whole school full of kids but they shared no conversation, not even a hello. AnnMarie puzzled over it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat difference do it make anyway. Your feet get swelled, you gain some weight. You buy a slow girl some french fries.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn Wednesday, Crystal was the only girl sitting at the long metal table when she walked into Room 5 at half past nine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere is everybody? AnnMarie asked as she dumped her backpack on the floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLeandra went to get a sonogram, Miss Westwood said. I don’t know where the other girls are.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie said, You okay, Miss Westwood?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m okay.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAin’t you sleeping?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot so well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMaybe you pregnant too, AnnMarie joked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo, AnnMarie, I’m not pregnant. I’m disappointed. I expect you girls to accomplish something here.Now take out your math sheet from yesterday and let’s go over the answers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie dug through her backpack, found the worksheet bunched up at the bottom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe looked at it. I ain’t finished mines.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo finish it now, Miss Westwood said sharply.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat she tripping for, AnnMarie thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe tried to catch Crystal’s eye but that girl on another planet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt Darius’ house that evening, she sat at the kitchen table with Vanessa, watching two grown men carry first his turntables, then his speakers, up from the basement and out the front door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat they doing, AnnMarie said quietly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDarius’ sister shrugged. They been after him for a while. Phone ringing off the hook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho been after him, AnnMarie asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZ-Sounds. He got his shit on installment. Fuck if he making the payments.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie felt a stab of panic so she stood, crossed to the basement door and listened. Installment? He never told her nothin’ about installments. She thought he was fine with money. That they was fine. She heard his footsteps now and backed away as he strode past her and out the front door, the look on his face silencing her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVanessa got up and stretched. Then she went outside to watch. AnnMarie followed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were loading Darius’ equipment into a black van. Another homie leaned against the driver door, hands folded loose over his crotch, just leaning and waiting, his eye on Darius who stood barefoot on the front porch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVanessa sucked her teeth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShut yo’ mouth, Darius said. Why you even standing here?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFuck you. I live here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVanessa was further along than AnnMarie, in her seventh month, and her sweatshirt rose up over her belly showing skin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLook at you, y’all like some ghetto ho, Darius said as he went into the house.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVanessa tsked, At least I ain’t getting repo’d.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie turned, watching the van pull away with Darius’ equipment inside. She could feel the stillness settle on her shoulders, the van disappearing around the corner, Vanessa quiet now in Darius’ absence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe went down to the studio room to ask him why. To say what happened, baby.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll the wires pulled loose from the walls, laying on the floor like black snakes uncoiled and lifeless.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDarius was putting on his shoes. He said, Don’t say nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie tsked, frowning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDid I? Did I say something, she asked, watching him. Seeing all the pent-up, unspoken inadequacy written as anger across his face. Things gone wrong and nothing to do to stop it. ’Cept a fight, maybe. A fight be good for something. She felt it coming.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe next day, Miss Westwood was happy again, six girls at the metal table when AnnMarie walked in. Camille was saying, Shoot, I get me a C-section. No way I’ma be ripped to shreds. My va-geegee too precious.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePietra laughed, then groaned, laying her cheek flat on the table. I already got these pains back here, she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMiss Westwood reached over and rubbed her lower back, saying, Listen girls, her voice rising above the chatter, giving life is a beautiful thing. A woman’s body is made to do this.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYeah, but I ain’t no woman, Camille said, I’m still a child, Miss Westwood, and I ain’t gonna let no baby split me in two. Hell, no . . . Camille flounced down next to the teacher and leaned into an embrace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t worry, you’ll be ready, Miss Westwood said. Her eyes rested on AnnMarie for a moment but she didn’t say nothing about the fat bruise on her cheek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter the repo van had gone, Darius had chased her up the stairs, banging her up against the wall. Stop, Darius, why you buggin’? she’d said but his backhand slap knocked her silly, sent a flash a pain across her face. White dots popping, face on fire. For a minute, she’d been blind.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMuthafucka. She’d picked a point on the floor and made her blurry eye go there, even with his mouth right up to her ear. \u003ci\u003eYou think you all that, up in my business all the time. \u003c\/i\u003eThen his hand went around her throat and squeezed.\u003ci\u003e What you got to say now.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMaybe she don’t notice, AnnMarie thought. Skin dark chocolate, maybe she don’t see. Then again, this a school after all, not a police station.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWings: Insect wings are found in many different shapes and sizes. They are used for flying, but also to attract a mate or hide from predators.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnnMarie tried to focus but couldn’t. Fuck him. Punk-ass muthafucka. Think he the bomb. Think he it. Fuck you, she thought. You no longer the father a my child. I do this my own damn self.\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMost insects have two pairs of wings.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eMost insects have two pairs of wings.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eMost— \u003c\/i\u003eAnnMarie stood up, walked out of the classroom and down the hall to the drinking fountain. She took a sip a water, wandered down to the front door and looked out the window see what the weather like. Sun out, tha’s good. Maybe she skip out after lunch. She went back to the drinking fountain, stared up at the bulletin board. Somebody had posted a flier. Right in between TEEN SUPPORT GROUP and ARE YOU EXPECTING?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMovie Tryouts!!\u003cbr\u003eGirls Wanted.\u003cbr\u003eAll shapes and sizes.\u003cbr\u003eNo model types.\u003cbr\u003eCome as you are.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwo days later, she woke up not knowing where she was. She thought she was on a school bus, rumbling over some rough road somewhere way out there, far, far out at the edge of an island, the water glistening so bright she thought her eyeballs would split open but when she let her lids peel apart, the world was dark, everything around her dark and sleepy. She felt the bed beneath her, she was in her own bed, bladder full. She didn’t want to get up so she snuggled deeper, looking at the clock radio. Three o’clock in the morning. That’d been happening lately. Three o’clock, she’d wake up with that anxious feeling. Couldn’t go back to sleep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe tried to push it aside but there it was:\u003ci\u003e I don’t want this baby. I do not want this baby\u003c\/i\u003e. Usually she’d roll toward Darius, pull his arm over her waist, find his heart beating there and she’d be okay. But she hadn’t seen him since the fight. Two days. She wondered what he doing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe sat up in bed, peeled back the curtain and looked out at the gray night. Below her, she watched the streetlamp flicker. A woman came around the corner and passed beneath it, then suddenly ran off in a sprint. Was she running from something or to something? AnnMarie couldn’t tell. There’d been no sound, no other person. What you running for, AnnMarie thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe reached over the side of the bed and felt around on the floor, found her backpack, pulled out the flier she’d taken off the wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe read it again. She wondered where 404 18th Street was. Flier said Manhattan. She’d never been to Manhattan before. She wondered if they needed girls who could sing.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Anchor","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304949010661,"sku":"NP9780345804860","price":23.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345804860.jpg?v=1767734109","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/on-the-come-up-isbn-9780345804860","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}