Marley Jones is starting the 5th grade: a new school; a new sport; a new home. She wanted to do dance, but instead her parents got divorced, and she ended up in after-school swimming because some quack-job counselor told her dad it was a good way to blow off steam.
And Marley hates swimming. Every practice is a gift of chlorine-scented hair, ear water, and creepy, canât-get-out-of-your-head shark facts that the popular girls keep telling her to make her squirm. The only good part about swim team is Omar, whose award-winning belly-flop could make a goat laugh.
But even Omarâs belly-flop wonât be enough to keep Marley sane if she canât fix things with popular girls, escape counseling, and stop her best friend from moving to Alaska.
âThe Deep End of Life is as charming in its shallows as it is poignant in its depths. Marleyâs story and voice leap with charm, while the struggle with her parentsâ divorce and her experience with therapy give the story weight and soul. A refreshing book for young readers and parents alike.â -ALLISON K. HYMAS, AUTHOR OF THE EXPLORERâS CODE
Marley Jones is starting the 5th grade: a new school; a new sport; a new home. She wanted to do dance, but instead her parents got divorced, and she ended up in after-school swimming because some quack-job counselor told her dad it was a good way to blow off steam.
And Marley hates swimming. Every practice is a gift of chlorine-scented hair, ear water, and creepy, canât-get-out-of-your-head shark facts that the popular girls keep telling her to make her squirm. The only good part about swim team is Omar, whose award-winning belly-flop could make a goat laugh.
But even Omarâs belly-flop wonât be enough to keep Marley sane if she canât fix things with popular girls, escape counseling, and stop her best friend from moving to Alaska.
âThe Deep End of Life is as charming in its shallows as it is poignant in its depths. Marleyâs story and voice leap with charm, while the struggle with her parentsâ divorce and her experience with therapy give the story weight and soul. A refreshing book for young readers and parents alike.â -ALLISON K. HYMAS, AUTHOR OF THE EXPLORERâS CODE
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Judithâs eyebrow started it. It soared up her too-pretty face like a volleyball in need of a good spiking, emphasizing the pounds of make-up sheâd applied to get Dadâs attention. Showing just the kind of stepmom sheâd be, if she got the chance. It was the arched eyebrow of war.
Too bad Judith wore a fancy white dress to the war. Too bad her dress was two sizes too tight. And extra too bad she had to get up from her poofy crimson chair to go to the restroom.
I wouldnât have done that. I would have held it. And I would have worn my favorite pair of jeans, ankle-cut socks, some stomp-around tennies and my âTry to Stop Meâ t-shirt if I were going to start an eyebrow war. I donât really care what I get on my favorite jeans, âcause it always washes out. And if it doesnât, thatâs just one more cool story to tell my best friend Stacey Stanbaugh.
Dadâs Judith is stupid. Itâs been too long since sheâs had her face rubbed in the playground dirt. Itâs been a long time since sheâs been in a death match with a fifth-grader. You donât pick a fight when youâre wearing white. Even first-graders know that. And you donât get up and go to the restroom in the middle of a war either.
Dadâs not paying attention. I glance over, just in case, but heâs still on his work phone, arguing with Marco about an invoice or something. The waiters arenât paying attention, either. Nobody is.
I sniff her glass, just to be sure. If itâs grape juice, I can spare a little. I love grape juice.
Pew.
Itâs not. It smells like old armpits.
Probably wine.
I take a sip.
Tastes like armpits, too.
Now I wonât feel guilty spilling it.
Dad still isnât paying attention. Heâs going to be on his phone for a while, it looks like. He thinks buying nice dinners is the same as taking care of someone, and since the divorce, heâs been even worse. Not that Momâs any better. She travels a lot, and when sheâs in town, Dennis the marine biologist comes over and I have to share Mom with Dennis and his shark movies.
At least with Dad, I donât usually have to share. Itâs all about making the right kind of mess.
Eyebrow war, phase two.
You canât just spill red wine onto an enemyâs dress. Thatâs juvenile, amateur, the sort of thing Omar would do, though heâd probably trip and make it look funny, and everyone would laugh.
And you canât throw it in her face, like the official challenge to an epic duel.
But Dad always says to go for gold.
So I do.
I slide Judithâs wine glass to the edge of the table, and lower it carefully toward the plush, pillowy seat. I push my finger down to create a divot in the fabric, right where I estimate her butt will land. Not that itâs going to be a hard target to hit. I empty about half the glass, more than I meant to, watching it soak in. Then I lift my finger and wipe it off in Judithâs napkin.
Iâm eating my peas, continental styleâwith the knife in my right hand and the fork in my leftâwhen Judith gets back. I watch her adjust that too-tight white dress before she sits. No smile. She just raises her eyebrow at me. Again!
She slinks down into her chair, picks up her fork, and freezes halfway to her pork chop, eyes growing melon-sized. Her fork trembles slightly as she turns to look at me.
âWhatâs wrong, Judith?â I ask.
âMarco, I have to go,â Dad says suddenly to his cell phone. The word âwrongâ has a special meaning between him and me. Whatâs wrong, Misty? Whatâs wrong, Evelyn? Whatâs wrong. . . Judith.
I can see him replaying his mental tape for the last few minutes of phone time, or whatever it is dads do when theyâre figuring out what they missed.
My dadâs pretty good at this. His eyes flit from Judithâs wine glass to me and then back to Judith. âJudith, donât move,â he says.
Judith doesnât listen. In just a few visits, itâs easy to see that Judith isnât the type who listens to what other people say. Instead, she does the worst thing possible. And by worst, I mean best. She stands up and turns to see whatâs in her chair.
I try not to giggle.
âDonât look, Bob,â an old lady near us says, warning her husband.
So, of course, he looks. . . His eyes go empire-wide, certainly wider than theyâve been all evening, talking to his boring wife.
âJudith,â Dad says. Thereâs an edge in his voice that adults use when they donât want everyoneâs attention but they want to be taken seriously. Judith stops staring at her chair, at nothing because the cushion was already red, and sees the cloth napkin Dadâs trying to hand to her. Thatâs when she checks her six and sees the giant red spot on her butt. âOh, my . . .â
When she looks at me, her face is as red as her missing wine. I donât back down. I donât look away. I never do.
Dad says you can win a battle but lose a war. When he looks at me, I know Iâve lost something.
Eleven-year-old Marley is a spunky, spirited girl who is struggling with the pain of her parentsâ divorce two years earlier. In an attempt to channel her anxiety and anger, Marleyâs parents enroll her in after-school swimming at the nearby Jefferson Street Pool. Marleyâs older sister Violet was a star swimmer, but Marley is far from comfortable in the water. To make matters worse, Marley feels the pull of the deep end as though a shark is hiding in its depths, waiting to ambush her when she least expects it. As her world falls apart around her, Marley gets pulled beneath the surface of her life and she must make dramatic strides to be able to breathe again.
The writing in this story is well-crafted, pulling readers immediately into Marleyâs unique and memorable personality. Despite Marleyâs difficulty managing her situation, she often makes witty comments and statements that endear readers to her. She observes the world through the pain she feels, wondering if she will ever be good enough to earn the affection she craves so much. Through a balanced blend of emotion and humor, this story examines both the psychological challenges young people face and their resilience in moving through those challenges.
Marleyâs experience as the youngest child of divorced parents is one that is common, especially as her parents did not detail the reasons behind their separation. In the absence of tangible information, Marley fills in the blanks, believing herself to be the primary catalyst. Her anger and fear become difficult to manage, causing her to lash out at others and behave in ways she otherwise would not. Therapy is a necessary avenue for Marley, and though she is initially skeptical, she discovers that with the right person, her sessions can be more beneficial than she expected.
The murky, deep end of the community pool is an apt and poignant metaphor for the myriad unknowns obscuring Marleyâs life. It becomes another character in the story, one that lurks behind many of the behaviors of Marley and her companions. Young readers will empathize with many of Marleyâs feelings, increasing their understanding and management of bullying, its causes, and its repercussions. Through quality writing and a concise plot, Marleyâs story is one that will help middle grade readers grow both their own internal confidence and their empathy toward others.