17 A Bad Luck Streak

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN A BAD LUCK STREAK Cohesion (noun). How well a bunch of molecules stick together. It's like when a coach calls for a huddle in soccer. Can the team bunch together and listen? Or is everyone doing their own thing? EVERYTHING WAS FALLING apart. Avery stood in the back row of the auditorium with Phoenix. I could hear Avery whispering and giggling. She was probably laughing at me. That was enough. I marched right up to Avery. "Thanks a lot for stealing my Cheetos!" "Your Cheetos? What are you talking about?" "They were there." I pointed to my backpack. "And now they're gone. Give them back." "I don't have them!" On the side of the stage, Mrs. Hansberry stood discussing something with Ms. Daly. "This isn't funny, Avery. I need them." "Wow. Someone really needs a snack," said Elijah from the lighting booth.

"The Cheetos aren't for me to eat. They're for the special effects for the dragons." I put out my hand, palm facing up. "Give. Them. To. Me." Avery stomped her foot. "I already told you, I don't have them." Phoenix jiggled her charm bracelet. "Avery doesn't even like Cheetos. She wouldn't take them." "Wouldn't take what?" asked Mrs. Hansberry from the stage. Next to her, Ms. Daly stared at me in surprise. "Cheetos," said Avery, rolling her eyes. "Kate thinks I took them. Just because she can't find them." "Well, I don't know where else they could be." I once again rummaged through my backpack. "The bag was in here. I promise." I glanced up apologetically at Ms. Daly, who came in especially to help me out today. "I'm so sorry," I said, my cheeks heating up. I could practically feel that hormone signaling my veins to open up. My cheeks were probably now phenol red. That's a special dye that chemists use to see if something is an acid or a base. "I don't know what happened." My eyes darted over at Avery. It had to be her.

"I would send someone to the store to buy a bag, but there just isn't enough time," said Mrs. Hansberry. "Well, we have plenty of other things to do." "I can come back tomorrow," said Ms. Daly. "Sorry," I mumbled, staring at the floor, which was dusty. That was probably my fault, too. I should have noticed and swept it up so that none of the crew slid while they were working in the dark. "It's okay," said Ms. Daly. But it wasn't. I could hear the disappointment in her voice. "I guess we should get back to work, folks," said Mrs. Hansberry. The cast headed back onstage. Only as soon as Birdie whinnied and threw back her mane, her unicorn horn slid off her forehead and toppled onto the floor. "I'll re-glue. Don't worry." I grabbed a bottle of the stage glue donated by Avery's dads. Then I

squirted a blob on the end of the horn and handed it to Birdie. "There. Just hold it in place." "I hope this works," Birdie wished out loud. Another groan. This time from Mia. Her horn slid all the way down her forehead. It bumped over the top of her nose, dangling on her chin until she pulled it off. "Oh. Hold it! I'll grab more glue for you, Mia." Soon the rest of the horns toppled off as well. And no extra amount of glue helped. The horns just got more slippery. "The glue's not working," stated Mia, which was pretty obvious. "It can't be dragons vs. horses," moaned Jeremy. Mrs. Hansberry strolled closer, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you're right—Dragons vs. Horses doesn't quite have the same ring to it." Avery wrinkled her nose. "I don't get why this is happening." "It's probably just not strong enough glue," I said. "But it's theatrical quality," said Avery with a huff. "My dads use it to stick feathers on masks." "Masks, did you say?" said Mrs. Hansberry. She inspected the bottle. "Hmm, perhaps this is the

wrong sort of glue. Since ours needs to act as an adhesive on skin." "But not peel anyone's skin off," I said. "We could tie rubber bands to the horns," suggested Mia. "Or stick them on headbands." "But these golden horns are perfect," said Birdie. "And the rubber bands or headbands would look so goofy." "These horns have to work," I said. Suddenly, the stage went completely dark. "Sorry!" yelled Elijah. "Something's wonky with the lights." "How are we going to rehearse the dance?" cried Birdie. "With the dragons and unicorns. I mean horses. We can't even see!" She did have a point. "Oh my. Children, let's try to remain calm." Mrs. Hansberry sighed dramatically. "I can see that things are heading in the wrong direction." "And I didn't even say good luck." I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh. Sorry! Didn't mean to say that." Birdie rolled her eyes, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. What bad thing was going to happen next?