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Project: Girl Power

Project: Girl Power

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Project: Girl Power

5/5 (1 Bewertung)
121 Seiten
1 Stunde
Nov 21, 2009


Written by bestselling author melody carlson. Meet Morgan, Amy, Carlie, and Emily. They all live in the trailer park at 622 Harbor View in tiny Boscoe Bay, Oregon. Proximity made them friends, but a desire to make the world a better place—and a willingness to work at it—keeps them together. In the first book of this new series, Project: Girl Power,bullies knock Emily from her bike on her way home from school, so the girls start walking together because there’s safety in numbers. With help from other people in the park, they set out to beautify Harbor View. In book two, Project: Mystery Bus, the girls begin summer by working to clean and restore their bus to use as a clubhouse. And thus begins the Rainbow Club. In book three, Project: Rescue Chelsea, Carlie makes a new friend. Chelsea Landers lives in a mansion and isn’t always very kind. Carlie would like a best friend, but will Chelsea fit in with her other friends? In book four, Project: Take Charge, the girls decide to take action when they find out their town’s only city park has been vandalized and may soon be turned into a parking lot. MELODY CARLSON In sixth grade, Melody Carlson helped start a school newspaper called The BuccaNews (her school’s mascot was a Buccaneer—argh!). As editor of this paper, she wrote most of the material herself, creating goofy phony bylines to hide the fact that the school newspaper was mostly a one-“man” show. She lives in Sisters, OR. Visit her at

Nov 21, 2009

Über den Autor

Melody Carlson is the prolific author of more than 200 books for women, teens and children. The recipient of numerous writing awards including the Rita and the RT Career Achievement Award, she makes her home in Oregon with her husband.

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Project - Melody Carlson

chapter one

Hey you! boomed a voice from down the street. Morgan’s head jerked around just in time to see three boys on bikes, about a block away, but quickly speeding straight toward them.

Oh, no, groaned Carlie. "It’s them!"

Ignore the jerks, Morgan told her new friend. Then she stuck out her chin and continued to walk at the same casual speed. And slow down, Carlie. You know they’re just trying to scare us.

It was the first time the two girls had walked home from school together, and Morgan had hoped it was the beginning of a new friendship.

Hey, who said you could walk down our street? hollered that same grating voice. A bike tire skidded to a halt right next to Carlie. On it sat redheaded, freckle-faced Derrick Smith. He always reminded Morgan of an overgrown turnip with a bad butch. Unfortunately, he was the self-appointed leader of this new gang of seventh-grade bullies.

Ignore! Morgan hissed to Carlie as she continued to walk, humming a tuneless song that was meant to inspire confidence. Then she noticed Carlie’s dark eyes grow wider as another boy screeched up, right next to Morgan this time. It was Jeff Sanders, of all people. A third boy Morgan didn’t recognize cut off the girls from the front. Morgan glared at Jeff, wondering what he was doing with this crowd. Normally, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. She looked him square in the eye, and to her relief, he glanced away uncomfortably.

Why don’t you guys get a life and leave us alone? Morgan said in her bravest voice.

Cuz you’re on our turf! Derrick sneered at her and then thumped Carlie on the shoulder. She jumped away from him, bumping into Morgan. And we don’t like sharing our turf with trailer trash, he said, laughing loudly right in poor Carlie’s face.

Leave her alone! yelled Morgan. Now Carlie looked scared. Hopefully she wasn’t going to fall apart. Morgan wasn’t sure that she’d be able to defend both of them.

Then, to Morgan’s surprise, Carlie threw back her shoulders, put her hands on her hips, and glared at Derrick. Back off! she yelled. Morgan stared at her new friend, certain that flashes of lightning had just shot from Carlie’s eyes.

That’s right, said Morgan. You guys need to just chill.

And keep your filthy hands off me, or you’ll be sorry! Carlie shook a clenched fist at Derrick.

Morgan admired Carlie’s nerve, but she hoped this girl didn’t have anything crazy in mind. Two sixth-grade girls against three seventh-grade boys didn’t stack up very well. Just then Morgan noticed a man across the street. He was slowly wheeling his trash can out to the curb. He looked even older than her grandma, but the presence of a nearby adult renewed her confidence.

You don’t own this street, Derrick Smith! She spoke loudly, hoping to draw the attention of the old man. What’s your problem, anyway? We’re just minding our own business, and you guys are acting like total jerks. It seemed to be working, because the man by the trash can was peering across the street at them.

She shook her finger at Jeff now. And I don’t get you, Jeff. I mean, you used to be nice to me, and your mom’s pretty good friends with my mom. What’s up with that?

Come on, Derrick, said Jeff in an offhanded way. I thought you said you had something to show us anyway.

All right, said Derrick. "This time, we’ll let you girls off with just a warning. But I don’t want to see you on our turf again." Then he peeled out, and the other two boys followed.

Carlie’s eyes were still bright with anger. Those stupid creeps! They act like they own the whole neighborhood. This is the second time this week I’ve been pestered by them. Who do they think they are, anyway?

My mom says they’re ‘wannabes.’ Morgan kept her voice calm as she started walking again, but she felt sort of wobbly inside, and her knees were a little shaky. Of course, she wouldn’t admit she was frightened to Carlie. Not right now anyway. She didn’t know the girl that well yet. Besides, Morgan liked for people to think she was brave. It made her feel safer somehow.

What’s a ‘wannabe’? asked Carlie as she paused to readjust her backpack strap.

"Kids who want to be like someone else, like these guys ‘wannabe’ like a gang. Didn’t you notice they all had similar kinds of jackets? Kinda like a real gang."

So what’s the difference between ‘wannabes’ and real gang members? They both dress alike and they both push people around.

Yeah, maybe there isn’t much difference. I don’t know for sure.

It’s funny, said Carlie as they continued walking. My parents moved away from Southern California—before us kids were even born—just to get away from junk like this. Now here we are in this little podunk town in Oregon, and it’s the same old, same old.

So…uh…were you scared, Carlie?

Yeah, sure. In fact, I was really scared at first. Then I just got real mad. I imagined my dad hunting down that Derrick kid and teaching him a thing or two. That made me feel a whole lot better. Man, you were really cool, Morgan.

Well, I was scared too. I just tried not to show it. I wish those guys would get a clue. That’s the second run-in I’ve had with them this week too. I can’t imagine putting up with that kind of crud all summer.

Me neither.

Morgan looked up at the cloudless blue sky. The morning fog had burned off now, and there was hardly a breeze at all. And this weather could almost make you think that summer’s really here.

I know. Carlie smiled. I can’t believe there are only two weeks of the school year left. I can’t wait for summer vacation and hanging out on the beach—all that fun in the sun.

Morgan laughed. Well, girl, it’s plain to see you haven’t lived on the Oregon coast during summertime yet. Or else you’d know that summer and nice weather don’t always go hand in hand around here. Didn’t you guys just move here a couple months ago?

Yeah, we came up here from northern California. My dad got laid off from his old job, and my uncle wanted him to come up here and work on his fishing boat. We’ve been here since the end of March.

I’ve been hoping to get to know you, Morgan said, trying to think of why she hadn’t reached out to this girl sooner. But you usually zip off right after school. And I never see you playing outside around the trailer park.

That’s ’cause I usually watch my little brothers after school. But today Mama’s at Tia Maria’s house, so I get a break.

Who’s Tia Maria?

"My aunt Maria. Tia is Spanish for ‘aunt.’"

Oh, yeah. I don’t have any aunts. But I have a grandma. We’re living with her right now—until my mom’s business takes off better. Our house is at the west side of the park, near the entrance. You can go through our backyard straight over to the dunes, and then the Harbor is only about a ten-minute walk from there."

Cool. Our house is close to the front too, just a couple of spaces down from you.

I know. I saw you move into the Porter’s old place. I kind of like to keep track of who lives where at the park. I was even thinking about getting a paper route, but you have to be thirteen, and I won’t be until July. Morgan stopped and pointed up ahead. Look, it’s those stupid jerks again. It looks like they knocked down that new girl, what’s-her-name. We better go help.

They both started running, and Carlie easily kept up. Once again Morgan felt surprised by this girl. Up until today, Morgan had assumed that this girl with the pretty curls and cutsie clothes was too prissy to be a very good friend for her. But today she was seeing a whole different side of her.

When Morgan and Carlie reached where the new girl had been knocked down, Amy Ngo was there too. Amy was helping

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