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I essays had given her the benefit of the doubt, but maybe she didn't know. Then she studied the artwork on the cover, with the gold essays earrings that read Tracy in script, and she just froze. "What in the world..." My mother was as shocked as I was. I was shocked that she didn't know about it, and she was shocked that she was just finding out. Then I got slick and tried to downplay it. "It's just a book about some girl growing up essays in Philly, Mom." My mother ignored me and began to flip through the pages after reading the back cover summaries. "Where did you get this book?" I didn't want to tell. Tracy's book was quite mature for an eleven-year-old girl to read. It was detailed with graphic sex and hard language. So my friends had all been hiding it from their mothers. We all realized that it was hard-boiled and secretive material. "You better tell me, girl," my mother warned me.
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