Some statistics say that 40% of all homeless teens are GLBT. They're on the streets after their families have thrown them away, told them that they don't matter, that they're not normal. Well, guess what? Those families are wrong. This collection of stories by ten talented authors spans the spectrum (historical, paranormal, transgender, cutter, gay) to show that - it's okay, there are people out there that care, and these teens are perfect just the way they are.
All royalties from this 430 page anthology are being donated to Lost-n-Found Youth in Atlanta, Georgia. A wonderful charity working with these teens, helping them find their new place and get on their feet.
Buy Link: http://www.featherweightpublishing.com/ShowBook.php?YA=ANTH_LOSTNFND
Table of Contents
- Bridges and Angels by MF Kays
- A Ghost of a Chance by Diane Adams
- A Chance with a Ghost by T.A. Webb
- Protective Instincts by Tabatha Heart
- Blessing by Dakota Chase
- The Preacher's Son by Caitlin Ricci
- Clay Rocks by T.A. Webb
- Sam I Am by Jeff Erno
- Thrown Away by DC Juris
- You Have Never Mattered by Michele L. Montgomery
- I Have Always Mattered by D.H. Starr
- About the Authors
From Thrown Away by D.C. Juris
"Jeremy? Is that you?"
"Yeah, Mom." I ran up the stairs, dumped my backpack in the middle of my bed, and came back down to the dining room. She had the table all made up, her and Dad on opposite sides and me at the far end. Three place settings, each with a dinner plate, a smaller bread plate, a salad bowl, two forks, a knife, a spoon, and a glass of water. I frowned and swallowed a lump that lodged in my throat. This was going to suck so bad.
We sat down together, and I listened as they talked about "adult things." Which was just Mom's fancy name for gossip. She talked about the lady who lived next door, how she'd seen a man coming in and out of the house at all hours of the day and night. Dad said maybe he was a handy man, and Mom told him not to be ridiculous, of course he wasn't a handy man. Why would a handy man be coming by the house at three in the morning? Dad wanted to know why Mom was up snooping on the neighbors at three in the morning. Of course, that made Mom angry-it's not snooping if you're up for a glass of water and the neighbors are making enough noise for you to hear them-and the conversation finally made its way to me.
"How was school today?" Mom asked.
I looked down the table at her. So close, yet she suddenly felt so far away.
I took another deep breath and steeled myself, clenching my fork tight in my fist. "So. um." I coughed and cleared my throat. "Can I talk to you guys about something?"
"Of course you can, honey," Mom answered.
"What's on your mind?" Dad asked.
I looked down at my plate, hoping for.what? Courage? "I think. I think I-"
"Oh, no, you got someone pregnant!" My mother shrieked the words at me.
"What?" I jerked my head up and stared at her, open-mouthed. "No. No. God, no. I didn't get anyone pregnant. It's just-"
"Are you sure? Because even if you use protection-" My father rolled his eyes. "Spit it out already, Germ." Germ. My dad's pet name for me. Isn't that cute? Not.
"Okay." I turned to my mom. She'd probably be the easier of the two. "You remember last month, when we went shopping for school clothes, and I picked out those three shirts from the girls' section, and you said that you didn't understand fashion fads these days?"
Mom shook her head. "I still don't understand them. Why on Earth would you want to parade around looking like something you're not is beyond me. You're a very handsome young man. You should be proud of yourself, not pandering to what your friends think is cool."
Irony, thy name is my mother. "I'm not doing it because of my friends." I took another deep breath, let it out slowly. "Remember when I talked to you guys about my friend who thought he might be transgender? I don't have a friend like that. I was talking about me. I picked girls' clothes because.because I want to look like a girl. I want to be a girl. I think.I think I'm transgender. I looked it up online and Eric has a friend who-"
"Eric?" Mom folded her hands in front of her. "You've been hanging around with that degenerate?"
Great. As if things weren't bad enough. "Just at school, I swear."
Silence stretched out between us, hanging in the air like an invisible wall.
Dad went back to eating. Mom stared at the ceiling. No one spoke for minutes, but it felt more like hours. I sat there, looking at each of them in turn, waiting for the questions, the yelling, the anything.
"So. You never did say how school was today," Mom said.
"How..." I sputtered. "School was fine. Mom, did you hear what I said?"
[It seems really appropriate to bring this book to your attention during the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia. And if I get at least twenty comments on this post, I will donate $25 to Lost-and-Found. If I get a hundred comments or more, I'll donate $50!]