By Brian Francis
Thirteen-year-old Peter Paddington is obese, the topic of his classmates' ridicule, and the sufferer of too many undesirable movie-of-the-week storylines. while his nipples start talking to him at some point and tell him in their diabolical plan to show his mystery wishes, Peter unearths himself cornered in an international that turns out to haven't any tolerance for distinction. Peter's purely solace is "The Bedtime videos" - perfect-world fantasies that lull him to sleep each evening. but if the traces among Peter's fantasies and his fact start to blur, his hilarious adventures in overeating, relatives disorder, and the terrifying global of sexual awakening relatively commence.
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Extra resources for Fruit: A Novel about a Boy and His Nipples
She turned to my dad. ” “You’re not adopted, Christine,” my dad said. “We’ve been over this a million times. And you’re not getting any more new clothes, either. ” Christine cried. “Everything I own is too casual. ” my mom shrieked. ” “In case I didn’t make this clear, Mother, I’m interviewing with Peoples Jewellers. ” My parents refused to buy Christine a new suit. Instead, she borrowed a pink jacket and white skirt from Mrs. LaFlamme. The day of her interview, she had so much lip gloss on, her mouth kept sliding all over the place.
I just knew I’d have to stop her from going into that pageant and embarrassing herself, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it without hurting her feelings. Maybe I could write the Basilico Club a sinister note with letters cut out from magazines. ” it would read. “Death to all beauty queens! ” Or what if I could convince the judges that Mr. and Mrs. Bertoli weren’t really Daniela’s parents, that Daniela was born white and had been thrown into a dumpster behind Mr. Bertoli’s restaurant by her white low-class mom and the Bertolis had found her and raised her as the Italian daughter they never had?
Uncle Ed smells kind of funny some days, too. He’s my mother’s younger brother and lives in a small apartment above a mechanic’s shop. Uncle Ed works in Chemical Valley too, but he doesn’t wear a uniform. He must work in an office. I don’t know for sure because I’ve never asked him. I don’t ask Uncle Ed much because once he starts talking, he has a hard time stopping. FRUIT_mary_5 3/23/04 4:29 PM Page 26 brian francis “Verbal diarrhea,” my mother always says, which makes my father roll his eyes and say that’s the pot calling the kettle black.