Annie's Baby: The Diary of Anonymous, a Pregnant Teenager

Annie's Baby: The Diary of Anonymous, a Pregnant Teenager

by Beatrice Sparks
Annie's Baby: The Diary of Anonymous, a Pregnant Teenager

Annie's Baby: The Diary of Anonymous, a Pregnant Teenager

by Beatrice Sparks

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Overview

When Annie discovers she's pregnant by her boyfriend, she's devastated. She has never felt so alone. With no one she can talk to, she pours her heart out to her diary, confiding her feelings of panic, self-doubt, and the desperate hope that some day she can turn her life around. She decides she wants to keep her baby and dreams of loving and caring for this little person. But after the baby is born, it's in her diary that she faces the agonizing question: Can she really raise this child on her own?


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780380791415
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 12/28/2004
Series: Avon Camelot Books Series
Pages: 256
Sales rank: 523,495
Product dimensions: 6.72(w) x 10.92(h) x 0.70(d)
Lexile: 860L (what's this?)
Age Range: 13 - 15 Years

About the Author

Beatrice Sparks is a family and adolescent therapist who edited the diary that formed the basis for Go Ask Alice, and has since edited many diaries on topics such as gangs, AIDS, and teen pregnancy in the 1988 Annie's Baby. She lives in Provo, UT.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

September 11,Monday

I can't believe I woke up this morning and it was an ordinary day: Take a shower, brush my teeth, clean my room, slap a last-minute polish on my (due yesterday) science paper, do the breakfast dishes, empty garbage, etc.... then WOW... WHAMMY ... CRASH ... BANG ...

Me! Limping off the soccer field all smelly and bruised and battered and stuff after my Volkswagen bug-diesel-truck collision with Mountain Marion Martin. I was streaked with grassy dirt, trying to push my sweaty, limp hair out of my face, and rubbing a big "owie" under my right eye, Actually, I was feeling generally like Humpty Dumpty, when HE ... came running toward the football field, suited up like a regular NFL star and gorgeous as Brad Pitt, even gorgeouser ... is that a word? If it isn't, it should be!

Anyway, he ground to a stop right in front of me like an airplane coming down the runway for a landing and said, "Hi. Should I ask how you're doin'?" Ordinary me looked around to see who he was talking to. He tapped my shoulder and started laughing. I couldn't help laughing with him. Usually I'm ... you know, really uncomfortable around boys, except the guys who are my buddies, male slugs I've grown up with. But him! Wow! Now I guess I know what hormones are!! They seemed like a strange idea in health class, but then and there-KA-POWIE-I felt like a stick of dynamite had blown up inside me.

I remember every word the gorgeously gorgeous one said. Actually, they are each forever engraved in my memory and mind for posterity! He said, "I'm new here, and ... I'm looking for a friend. A sort of, not embarrassed to be"— hesnickered — sweaty, sporty sort of friend." He looked past my grungy, stringy bangs into the very deepest part of my heart and brain, and my whole body and soul smiled back at him.

The guys on the field began yelling. As he ran off, he whispered very slowly, in a kind of husky whisper, as though it were a sacred secret, "'Bye, friend."

I'm lying here on my bed going over and over and over the awesomeness of it all. He wants me to be his friend! I want to be! I really do want to be! More than I've ever wanted anything in the world in my whole life!

September 12, Tuesday

6:32 a.m.

I got up before it was even light outside — (me! Who sometimes doesn't even hear my alarm clock go off) — showered, washed my hair and curled it on hot rods, used some of Mom's face mask, and tried on everything in my closet. I've got to look my very best today! I know he said he wants a "sweaty, sporty sort of friend," but I'm sure he wants a girl who sometimes looks like a girl's supposed to look too, at least I hope with all my heart he does. Oh please, please make him not want to see me looking, my sweaty, dirty tomboy worst like he did last time.

4:21 p.m.

All day long, every time I had a chance, I prowled up and down the halls hoping I'd see him somewhere, but it's a big school. I wonder if he's been looking for me? Maybe going down the East hall while I'm going down the West one. (I can't believe I don't even know his name.) Maybe he's sick or was in an accident or something! That's dumb!

Wasn't that a crazy dream last night when I vi-sioned us playing tennis together and me letting him win! Not likely! Mrs. Raynor says if we had a team here at middle school, I'd for sure be its captain.

Ummm ... I wonder if I would let him win because of the hormones and the macho thing?

And ... I guess I might as well face it; maybe he says to every girl what he said to me. I couldn't bear that! But I guess I could; maybe I'll have to. Ouch! That really hurts! It hurts, but it could be reality too. Goodness knows it happens often enough on TV and I've never really had a boyfriend before. I mean, no one ever seemed to like me that way ... maybe it's just the way I want him to like me.

Jenny called. She and Deanna were going to the mall, but I said I didn't feel like it. I'd rather just sit here and feel sorry for myself. I wish I hadn't told her how mushed I am about him. It makes me seem like a real nutcase, nerd, dweeb. Besides I wanted to just happen to rollerblade past the deserted schoolfield and the park and stuff ... just in case ...

I was out for about an hour and a half but no sightings. Poor me.

September 14, Thurday

4:42 p.m.

I'm trying to get over him. But it's not really getting over him! It's kind of like it was a dream or movie, or some other repeating and repeating stupid, idiotic thing. I can't believe something like this can make me feel so completely world-shatteringly, darkly empty.

September 19, Tuesday

4:17 p.m.

I used to write almost every day. Now there doesn't seem to be anything worth writing about.

September 21, Thurday

4:50 p.m.

Radder than rad news! Molly and I were coming off the soccer field, pushing each other and being silly, when I felt someone come up behind me and put their hands over my eyes. My heart literally flopped; I wanted it to be him so much, but I thought it was probably Mel or one of the other...

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