Ungekürzte Ausgabe

**Praise for *Clean Getaway:

***"A road novel that serves in part as a primer on important scenes and themes of the civil-rights movement... [A] poignant caper." —The Wall Street Journal 

"An absolute firecracker of a book." —Booklist, starred review

“A heartwarming, family-centered adventure that will leave readers guessing until the end.” —*Publishers Weekly, starred review
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"Rich in history, Stone's middle-grade debut entertains and informs young readers....A road trip to remember." —***Kirkus Reviews

"Stone has crafted a history lesson in road-trip form....a good addition for school ­libraries seeking unconventional approaches to history.” —School Library Journal

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Praise for *Dear Martin:

"Powerful, wrenching." —John Green, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Turtles All the Way Down

"Absolutely incredible, honest, gut-wrenching. A must read!" —Angie Thomas, New York Times bestselling author of The Hate U Give

"Painfully timely and deeply moving." —Jodi Picoult

"Raw and gripping." —Jason Reynolds, New York Times bestselling coauthor of All American Boys

Autorentext
Nic Stone is an Atlanta native and a Spelman College graduate. After working extensively in teen mentoring and living in Israel for several years, she returned to the United States to write full-time. Nic's debut novel for young adults, Dear Martin, was a New York Times bestseller and a William C. Morris Award finalist. She is also the author of the teen titles Odd One Out, a novel about discovering oneself and who it is okay to love, which was an NPR Best Book of the Year and a Rainbow Book List Top Ten selection, and Jackpot, a love-ish story that takes a searing look at economic inequality.

Clean Getaway, Nic's first middle-grade novel, deals with coming to grips with the pain of the past and facing the humanity of our heroes. Nic lives in Atlanta with her adorable little family.

nicstone.info

Klappentext

From #1 New York Times bestselling author Nic Stone comes a middle-grade road-trip story through American race relations past and present, perfect for fans of Jacqueline Woodson and Jason Reynolds.

How to Go on an Unplanned Road Trip with Your Grandma:
Grab a Suitcase: Prepacked from the big spring break trip that got CANCELLED.
Fasten Your Seatbelt: G'ma's never conventional, so this trip won't be either.
Use the Green Book: G'ma's most treasured possession. It holds history, memories, and most important, the way home.

What Not to Bring:
A Cell Phone: Avoid contact with Dad at all costs. Even when G'ma starts acting stranger than usual.

Set against the backdrop of the segregation history of the American South, take a trip with this New York Times bestseller and an eleven-year-old boy who is about to discover that the world hasn't always been a welcoming place for kids like him, and things aren't always what they seem--his G'ma included."

Zusammenfassung
From #1 New York Times bestselling author Nic Stone comes a timely middle-grade road-trip story through landmarks of the Civil Rights movement and the map they lay for contemporary race relations.

**How to Go on an Unplanned Road Trip with Your Grandma:**
Grab a Suitcase: Prepacked from the big spring break trip that got CANCELLED.
Fasten Your Seatbelt: G'ma's never conventional, so this trip won't be either.
Use the Green Book: G'ma's most treasured possession. It holds history, memories, and most important, the way home.

**What Not to Bring:**
A Cell Phone: Avoid contact with Dad at all costs. Even when G'ma starts acting stranger than usual.

Set against the backdrop of the segregation history of the American South, take a trip with this New York Times bestseller and an eleven-year-old boy who is about to discover that the world hasn't always been a welcoming place for kids like him, and things aren't always what they seem--his G'ma included.

"Truly a delight." -Christopher Paul Curtis, author of Newbery Medal winner Bud, Not Buddy

Leseprobe

1

Quite a Ways to Go

It might sound silly, but to William Scoob Lamar, the Welcome to Alabama the Beautiful sign looks . . . well, beautiful. Not as beautiful as his best friend Shenice Lockwood in her yellow sundress, but beautiful enough to make Scoob tip his head back, close his eyes, and sigh into the breeze blowing through the open passenger-side window of G ma s Winnebago.

Exhale Dad s lockdown. Inhale the sweet fragrance of freedom. Which smells like pine mixed with a little bit of truck exhaust.

You all right over there, Scoob-a-doob? G ma says from the driver s seat. She s propped up on the gingham-covered foam wedge she uses to see over the steering wheel, pale, polka-dotted little hands perfectly positioned at ten and two. She s only four feet, eleven inches tall, G ma is.

Hearing his full nickname makes Scoob cringe. G ma gave it to him when he was five years old and obsessed with an old cartoon he used to watch at her house about a dog who liked to solve mysteries. G ma thought it was just too adorable! that he couldn t pronounce Scooby-Doo. And because Shenice was G ma s neighbor, she picked up on the nickname and started using it at school. So it stuck.

Well, the Scoob part did. Which is fine. Kinda cool, even.

Scoob-a-doob, though?

G ma, he says, you mind if we stick to Scoob? The rest is a little . . . babyish. No offense, he adds.

Oh, none taken! G ma says. My apologies, Mr. Scoob.

I mean . . . you can drop the mister, too, Scoob goes on.

This makes G ma laugh.

Which makes Scoob smile. He d never tell anybody, but there s really no sound in the world he loves more than his grandmother s barking laughter. Dad s not a fan; says it grates on him because it s the one reminder of G ma s past smoking days and potential future lung cancer, but it reminds Scoob of elementary school days playing card games she taught him that he wasn t supposed to know the rules for--like Texas Hold em and blackjack. Even now, it blows Scoob s mind that a harsh, booming sound like that could come out of a person as little as G ma.

I mean it, though, she says. You feeling all right? I m not driving too fast, am I? She kicks him a wrinkly wink.

Now Scoob s the one laughing. He looks up from the brand-new road map she handed him once they were both settled and seat-belted: according to the speedometer, the brand-new Winnebago he and G ma are in has a max speed of 120 miles per hour, but G ma has yet to push the needle to 60. Definitely not too fast, G ma. Though I do wonder if there s a minimum-speed-limit law you re breaking.

Oh you hush, she says. Speaking of which, you never said if you liked my new sweet ride or not. That s what you kids call it these days, right? A sweet ride? She says it in a way that makes her sound like a smarmy used-car salesman with oil-slicked hair.

Scoob chuckles and shakes his head. Then he peeks over his shoulder into the back.

Truthfully, when G ma popped up out of the blue and asked if Scoob wanted to go on a little adventure, he was too geeked at the thought of a loophole in his punishment to give much thought to anything else, their destination included. Especially when she said he d probably miss a couple days of school. (Bonus!) He finished item three--empty the dishwasher--on the to-do list Dad left for him on the kitchen whiteboard every day, and grabbed his suitcase. Then, after scribbling Dad a q