Excerpt from Harmony by Carolyn Parkhurst, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

While I'm peeing, I look around the bathroom. There's no bathtub, just a nasty-looking shower stall. There are rust marks in the sink, and the blue plastic shower curtain is spattered with uneven white dots along its bottom edge. The toilet flushes with one of those sticks that you step on, like it's a public restroom. I wonder how many feet have stood on that dirty-white plastic shower platform, sending dirt and hair and who knows what else down the drain. How many mouths have spit into that sink? I feel like throwing up.

When I come out, my mom and Tilly are sitting on the couch. Tilly is crying in long soft moans, and my mom is trying to put an arm around her, but it's hard because Tilly keeps jerking her body around. My mom looks at me over Tilly's head and smiles in this kind of sad way. She wants me to be more mature, to be the big sister even though I'm the little sister, but I'm not going to do it. I stand there hating them both for a minute, hating hating hating everything, and then it's like the hard yellow stuff melts back into liquid, and I'm crying like I'm never going to stop. My mom holds out her other arm, and I sink down next to her and press my face to her shoulder. I let her hold on to me and whisper soft things to both of us, as if it could make even the tiniest bit of difference.

Excerpted from Harmony by Carolyn Parkhurst. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.