the face on the milk carton series in order

'You're cute when your face matches your hair.' She blushed so hotly she had to put her hands over her cheeks. 'We'd like to issue an invitation for you to join us.' 'The rest of us are reading our essays aloud, Janie,' said Mr. She blushed, wondering how many times he had called her. It looked like the name you would have if you designed sequined gowns for a living, or pointed to prizes on television quiz shows. Now she took the 'h' out of Johnston and added a second 'y' to Jayne. Why, with the last name Johnson (hardly a name at all more like a page out of the phone book) had her parents chosen 'Jane'? They could have named her Scarlett, or Allegra. Her best friends-Sarah-Charlotte Sherwood and Adair O'Dell had wonderful, tongue-twisting, memorable names. To her last name-Johnson-she'd added a 't,' and later an 'e' at the end, so now she was Jayne Johnstone. Last year she'd added a 'y,' becoming Jayne, which had more personality and was sexier. Today after school he'd have a practice, or a game, but when he came home-they'd go driving! Her father was an accountant who in the fall had time to coach the middle-school soccer teams. 'Even with all the bricks I put on your head to keep you little. 'I guess you've grown up anyway, Janie,' said her father reluctantly. As her best friend, Sarah-Charlotte, said, 'Janie, that is serious hair.' Janie had fabulous hair: a wild, chaotic mane of red curls glinting gold. I'm against all this growing up.' He wound some of Janie's hair around his wrist. 'I hate when that happens,' her father grumbled. 'She's old,' said Janie's mother lightly. 'She's just a baby,' said her father, in the infuriating, affectionate way of fathers. Until last night her mother had said Janie could begin driving while her father said she could not.

Then they would come to terms, rushing to meet in the middle. Setting themselves up like a debate team, her mother and father would argue until some invisible marital timer rang. Her parents-as always-had taken opposite sides. She was having driving fantasies because of dinner last night. She felt like driving for hours taking any road at all just going.Īctually Janie was only fifteen and had barely started driving lessons.

With every leaf wrenched off its twig and whirled by the wind, Janie felt a tug. She could feel the pulse of the deep-blue skies. Whenever she was serious, he had intended the essay to be lighthearted. Whenever she joked, he wanted the essay serious.

She never knew what grade she would get in Mr.

The face on the milk carton series in order