Read more
Informationen zum Autor Phyllis Reynolds Naylor has written more than 135 books, including the Newbery Award–winning Shiloh and its sequels, the Alice series, Roxie and the Hooligans , and Roxie and the Hooligans at Buzzard’s Roost . She lives in Gaithersburg, Maryland. To hear from Phyllis and find out more about Alice, visit AliceMcKinley.com. Klappentext It’s Alice—for the rest of her life! Yes, the very last Alice book, and it reveals every last bit you’d want to know about Alice—including whether she spends the rest of her life with Patrick!Alice McKinley is going to college! And everything, from her room to her classes to her friends, is about to change. Stoically, nervously, Alice puts her best foot forward…and steps into the rest of her life. Just how crazy will her college life get? Will Alice’s dream of becoming a psychologist come true? Are she and her BFFs destined to remain BFFs? And with so many miles between them, will Alice and Patrick stay together…or is there a hot, mysterious stranger in her future? As Alice well knows, life isn’t always so predictable, and there are more than a few curveballs waiting to be thrown her way. This is it. The grand finale. You’ve loved her, you’ve learned with her, you’ve watched her grow up through twenty-eight books. And now everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Alice McKinley will be revealed!Now I’ll Tell You Everything 1 THE U OF M The day I left for college, Lester borrowed a pickup for all my stuff. “Anything that can’t fit in the back can’t go, Al,” he said. “I’ve got to take my beanbag chair. That’s a must,” I declared, jumping down off the back end and wiping my hands on my cutoffs. “Take it! Take it!” Dad said. “Just promise you’ll leave it there.” We joke that while some kids suck their thumbs all through childhood and others hang on to a blanket, I’ve kept my old beanbag chair as a sort of mother substitute, a lap to cuddle in when things get tough. Mom died when I was in kindergarten, and I’ve had that beanbag chair almost as long. I’m even too big for it now, but I could always use it as a hassock, I figured. All morning Elizabeth, Pamela, and I had been carrying things out to the truck. Gwen’s brothers had helped her move the day before, and Liz would leave for Bennington the next day. I was taking some stuff to my dorm at the U of Maryland and was lucky Liz and Pam were still around to see me off. We were standing out on the driveway in our shorts and T-shirts, studying the mountain of junk in the pickup, trying to think of anything I might have forgotten. “Ironing board?” said Elizabeth. She’s the gorgeous one, with creamy skin, thick dark eyelashes, and long, almost black hair. “Nobody uses an ironing board at college, Liz!” said Pamela. “You just fold up a towel on the floor and iron on that, if you iron at all.” A gnat blew directly in front of Pam’s eyes, and she tried to smash it between her hands. Sweat dripped off her face and onto the front of her purple tee. We were all perspiring like crazy. “Toaster?” said Elizabeth. “What will you do if you crave a grilled cheese sandwich at midnight and everything’s closed?” “Are you kidding?” Pamela exclaimed. “All you need is your iron. You put cheese between two slices of bread, wrap it in foil, and press down on it with a hot iron.” She lifted her blond hair off the nape of her neck, as though even talking about ironing made her miserable. “Your ingenuity is amazing,” I said. “Next you’ll tell us an iron can broil a steak and bake a potato. Can it help me with my homework? Hand me that box, Liz, and let’s see if we can’t squeeze it in beside my suitcase.” I’ve known Elizabeth Price and Pamela Jones fo...
