17 Bad Atmosphere

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN BAD ATMOSPHERE Atmospheric particles (noun). These are teeny-tiny particles (like dust) suspended in the air. And guess what? Snowflakes form when supercold water droplets freeze onto these particles. particles. So even though particles are small, they can have mighty jobs to do. IT WAS 12:25. I was supposed to leave at 12:15 to pick up Liam's ice cream cake. But I had forgotten to reset the alarm on my watch. My rocket was ready, but it didn't matter; I had to leave. "Got to go!" I yelled. "But your rocket!" Tala pointed at my packet of fuel. "It's all ready to go now." "You can do it for me. Take a video!" I shouted. "I'll meet you guys at Brewster's in a bit. I've got to get to my brother's birthday party." And pick up the cake. But I didn't say that part. There really wasn't time to explain. At the edge of the parking lot, I grabbed my wagon and bolted. On the field, I heard the chemistry club members counting down, "Ten, nine, eight..." and I thought about how I had my own countdown.

"Three, two, one. Blastoff!" everyone shouted. Turning my head, I watched in awe as the rockets fizzed and whooshed upward! Kids whooped, clapped, and cheered. The rockets soared straight up, going well over the two-story school before arcing back down. It was an amazing sight. But I didn't feel as happy as I should have. The sun slid behind a cloud. The wind picked up, and the sky took on a pink hue, the way it does before the flurries come down. I learned from Dr. Caroline that light bouncing off clouds and particles is scattered. This means that we can see longer wavelengths of color, like pink. Usually, I loved pink. My cowboy boots I was wearing were pink. My quilt had pink in it. But I didn't want a pink snow-sky because that meant trouble. And there was already enough of it today. No. No. Nooooo. Not a snowstorm, too. I charged past some older Victorian houses by the school. They looked like dollhouses,

with their towers, turrets, and wraparound porches. If Birdie were with me, she'd slow down and get a dreamy look on her face. Like she wanted to shrink the houses and put one in her bedroom. That was what she'd done when we were younger, when she still played with stuffed animals and dolls. I flew past the little cemetery where Birdie always holds her breath. Because she says it's a thing you're supposed to do. Right now, I would do anything if she could be with me. Somehow, she'd make me feel calmer. Glancing down at my watch, I noted with horror that it was already 12:29. Just one minute to get to McSweeny's, and it was ten blocks away. If I were on my bike, I could get there in five minutes. If I were in a spaceship, I'd already be there. The wagon clunked over pebbles on the sidewalk and chunks of ice. I navigated along the narrow path on the sidewalk as fast as I could go. I imagined myself on the soccer field in the spring, running with my coach yelling at us during warm-ups around the field. I pushed myself to go faster and faster until suddenly, I was sliding. Black ice. No. No. No. I started to tumble down, but I was able to grab on to a mailbox for balance. My head slammed against the

mailbox but thankfully not too hard. Standing back up, I brushed myself off and blinked away the pain. I'm fine, I told myself. Just fine. And there across the street was the ice cream store on the corner. McSweeny's looked dark, like nobody was there. But Mr. Arvanites was known for not turning on the lights. "Natural sunlight," he would say. "Good for your skin. And saves electric bills." When I reached the store, I noticed a sign that said CLOSED. And there was a note stuck on the door. Waited 10 minutes but had to run to the dentist. Be back in 2 hours. Should still be more than enough time for you to have cake after dinner! Dinner! This cake was supposed to be for right after lunch! I could feel tears welling up. No. No. No. Somehow, I had once again messed up my brother's birthday. Not because he was born on December thirteenth. But because he got me as a sister. I was bad luck. My face, even in the cold, felt hot. My throat closed up. I plopped on the stoop of the ice cream store, my head in my hands. At that moment, I realized something that was quantifiable, observable, and true.

I was the worst sister in the entire world. I let my brother down. I let my new friend down. And I didn't even get a chance to launch my rocket. This was the worst day ever.