Narrator's Point of View Activity 3

Princess Rina found her gold crown on the head of a green frog. She felt her cheeks grow hot. The frog sat on the lily pad and said, "Finders keepers." Rina knew a princess should not argue with pond animals, but she wanted her crown back before the banquet. She held out a cookie. The frog blinked twice, then hopped closer.

Imani stepped onto the roof with a red kite under one arm. Felix stood by the clothesline holding a spool of string. Wind blew their loose shirts wildly. "Now?" Felix asked. Imani nodded and lifted the kite above her head. Felix backed across the roof while the string spun from the spool. The kite snapped upward, bumped the water tank, and tore loose into the sky. Imani grabbed the empty string. Felix pointed over the edge and shouted, "Look out!"

My job was supposed to be easy: just stack the clear rain jars. That was my role at the Weather Factory. And it was pretty easy, until one day a thunder jar rolled off the shelf and cracked open on the floor. I felt my stomach drop. The factory darkened. Gray clouds puffed around my shoes. My boss shouted, "You need to catch that storm quickly!" So I did what any reasonable Weather Factory worker would do. I grabbed a butterfly net and ran after the raging rain cloud.

Are you having a bad day? You may need to make emergency nachos. You will find that this is quite easy to do. First, you spread chips on a plate. Next, you sprinkle cheese over the chips like falling snow flakes. Then, you can add beans, salsa, or anything else to customize the nachos to your taste. Now, heat the plate until the cheese melts. That should be about it. The last thing you will want to do is to sit down, take a bite, and remind yourself that tomorrow is a new day. You can start fresh then and make more emergency nachos if you want.

Rafi pushed the noodle cart down the empty street. Celeste walked beside him with a lantern. The cart bell rang by itself as the wheels bounced on the cobblestone road. Rafi stopped. Celeste lifted the lantern higher. A tiny blue dragon poked its head out of the soup pot. "No customers after midnight," Celeste said. The dragon sneezed steam onto the lid.

Pippa lifted the blanket and could not believe her eyes! There was a tiny kingdom under her bed. There were shops, homes, a castle, and even some kind of temple or shrine or something but Pippa couldn't quite tell. She was amazed at the craftsmanship of the town. She was also a little annoyed because the kingdom was arranged around her missing sock. King Moth looked up from his crumb-sized throne. The normally proud king felt concerned. He was worried about the giant girl. He had prepared for war with the bugs, but nothing could prepare him for Pippa. Meanwhile, Pippa wanted her sock back.

I followed my grandfather into his garden after dinner. He pointed to the entrance of the hedge maze and smiled. "First one out wins a slice of pie," he said. I marched in with a flashlight. The hedges towered over my head. I took a left, then a right, then another right. The path kept twisting. After ten minutes, I realized I had not heard my grandfather laugh once. I stopped walking. The hedge in front of me had not been there a moment ago. My flashlight flickered, and I started to wonder if I would ever taste that pie.

Mateo sat on one side of the chess board. Yuki sat on the other. The clock on the table ticked between them. Mateo moved his rook two squares. He pressed the clock. Yuki moved her knight. She pressed the clock. The crowd around table three leaned in over the rope. Mateo took a long sip of water. The clock made an audible tick. He slid his queen all the way across the board and cracked a smile. Yuki narrowed her eyes.

Kelly walked slowly down the row of cages at the shelter. She hoped she would know the right dog when she saw him. Halfway down the row, a small brown dog named Biscuit watched the door and waited. He wanted someone to pick him today. His cage by the window had begun to feel like a very small place to him. He had seen puppies get chosen before. It was all he wanted. Suddenly, Kelly stopped in front of Biscuit's cage. She felt her chest get warm. She wondered if this was the right dog for her. Meanwhile, Biscuit pressed his nose against the wire and decided that this girl looked exactly right to him.

Keith stood on the small stage with a quarter in his right hand. His heart drummed in his ears. He had practiced the trick a hundred times in front of the bathroom mirror, but the bathroom mirror did not have eighty kids in it. Jalen, his classmate, walked up the steps to volunteer. Keith hoped his hands would not shake. He held the quarter up, snapped his fingers, and opened his palm. The quarter was gone. Jalen gasped. Keith let himself breathe for the first time all morning.

Tommy stood behind his lemonade stand on the sunny side of Maple Street. He counted his cups. Only four sold. He felt sure that Lucia was winning. Across the street, Lucia stood behind her stand on the shady side. She counted her cups too. Only three sold. She felt sure that Tommy was winning. A small crowd of bikes turned the corner. Both vendors stood up straight. Tommy hoped the bikes would stop at his stand. Likewise, Lucia was hoping that the bikes would stop at hers.

You stop in front of the giant dinosaur skeleton and notice that the room is suddenly quiet. Too quiet. The lights flicker off in the next wing. Your field trip group is gone. You hear a guard click a door shut somewhere down the hall. You have two options. You can race for the side exit before it locks. Or you can sneak down to the cafeteria and look for your friend, Robbie. If you run for the side exit, turn to page 12. If you head to the cafeteria, turn to page 18.

Wendell the troll stood at the corner in a bright yellow vest. He held his stop sign high. After three hundred years under a bridge, he liked seeing kids in daylight. Mary ran up to the intersection. She felt nervous about being late but was also curious about the very tall crossing guard with the green ears. "Walk fast, do not run," Wendell said in his deep, kind voice. Mary nodded and crossed the street. Wendell watched her go and decided this was the best job he had ever had.

We rolled our homemade soapbox car to the top of the hill. Tomas, Bea, and I had built it from scrap wood and old bike wheels all summer. The number painted on the side was eleven. A race official raised a yellow flag and counted us down. We climbed in. I gripped the rope that worked the steering. The flag dropped. Our car shot down the hill so fast that the wind made my eyes water. Bea hooted behind me. The white finish line came up fast.

Tariq stood on the subway platform and looked up at the colored signs. His class was gone. His teacher was gone. The Red Line train rumbled away into the tunnel. Tariq felt his stomach twist. A woman with a briefcase stood near the platform map. She did not look at him. Tariq tried to remember the name of the station where his field trip had started. He patted his back pocket for his transit card. He felt very small.

Did your haircut go wrong? You are not alone. Most people have lived through at least one bad haircut. Here is what you do. First, you take a deep breath. Hair grows back. Next, you check the damage in the mirror. Is it short on one side? Wear a hat. Is it short everywhere? Wear a fancier hat. Then, you tell yourself that fashion is just a guess. The most important step is to act like you wanted it this way. Stand up straight. Confidence makes any haircut look better.

I gripped the sub's joystick with both hands as we dropped past three thousand feet. Captain Vega tapped the radar screen and frowned. The deep ocean was dark and quiet. I had practiced this dive in the simulator a hundred times, but the simulator did not have the real ocean's groan around the hull. A green dot blipped on our screen. "That should not be here," Vega said. I nudged the joystick and pointed our lights into the deep.

Daniel sat behind the drum kit with sticks in his hands. Polly stood at the microphone with a guitar over her shoulder. The red light above the door clicked on. "Take twelve," said the voice from the speakers. Daniel nodded his head to the beat. Polly began to play and sing. Halfway through the verse, her guitar string snapped, making a metal twang. She stopped. Daniel set his sticks across the snare. "Get a new string," the voice said. Polly nodded and left the booth.

Welcome to Level 7 of Pyramid Pursuit. This is a hard one. First, you enter the tomb through the cracked wall on the left. Do not use the front door. The mummies will see you. Next, move the table. This will reveal an extra health container. Grab that, then slide down the sand chute on the right. Steer past the spikes as you descend. At the bottom, you walk into the torch on the right to open the secret door to the next room. Make sure you save your game before the boss fight.

Sonya checked the temperature gauge inside Greenhouse Six. The lights had flickered twice already. She felt her stomach tighten. The strawberries needed the lamps to stay bright, or the whole crop would freeze by morning. Behind her, Captain Reza tapped on a clipboard. "How long do we have?" he asked. Sonya looked at the dimming bulbs and tried to keep her voice steady. "Twenty minutes," she said. Sonya wished she had a wrench in her hand more than anything. This job would have been hard enough to do with proper tools.

Princess Rina found her gold crown tilted sideways on the head of a green frog in the palace pond. She felt heat climb into her cheeks. In twenty minutes, the royal banquet would begin, and she did not want to explain why her crown smelled like pond water. The frog sat on a lily pad and said, "Finders keepers." Rina knew a princess should not bargain with a frog who had poor manners, but she was running out of time. She pulled a cookie from her pocket and offered it to the frog. He blinked twice, tucked one webbed foot under the crown, and hopped closer.

Imani stepped through the metal roof door with a red kite tucked under her arm. Felix stood beside the clothesline holding a wooden spool of string. Wind slapped two white sheets against the brick wall. "Now?" Felix asked. Imani nodded and raised the kite over her head. Felix jogged backward across the roof while the string spun from the spool. The kite jumped, dipped, and then shot upward. It scraped the side of the water tank, twisted once, and broke free. Imani grabbed the loose string end with both hands. Felix pointed toward the street below and shouted, "Look out!"

My job was supposed to be easy: just stack the clear rain jars. That was my entire summer job at the Weather Factory. And it was pretty easy, until a thunder jar rolled off the metal shelf, hit the floor, and cracked open with a sharp pop. I felt my stomach drop. The factory darkened. Gray clouds puffed around my shoes. My supervisor shouted, "You need to catch that storm quickly before it reaches the lobby!" I grabbed the nearest butterfly net and ran after the raging rain cloud as it rolled toward the exit.

Has your day gone wrong in several dramatic ways? You may need to make emergency nachos. You will find that this is quite easy to do. First, you spread a layer of chips across a microwave-safe plate. Try not to stack them in a mountain unless you want the bottom chips to remain cheese-free. Next, sprinkle shredded cheese over the chips like falling snowflakes. Then, you can add beans, salsa, peppers, or anything else to customize the nachos to your taste. Now, heat the plate until the cheese melts. That should be about it. The last thing you will want to do is to sit down, take a bite, and remind yourself that tomorrow is a new day. You can start fresh again and make more emergency nachos if the world conspires against your happiness once again.

Rafi pushed the noodle cart down the empty street while Celeste walked beside him with a brass lantern. The cart bell rang by itself as the wheels bounced on the cobblestone road. Rafi stopped beside a cracked stone fountain. Celeste lifted the lantern until yellow light spilled across the soup pot. The lid rattled twice. A tiny blue dragon poked its head out and blinked at them. "No customers after midnight," Celeste said. The dragon sneezed a puff of steam onto the lid and sank back into the noodles.

Pippa lifted the blanket and could not believe her eyes! She had discovered a tiny kingdom under her bed. She felt amazed at first, then annoyed, because the kingdom was arranged around her missing striped sock. There were shops, well-maintained homes, a castle, and even some kind of temple or shrine or something but Pippa couldn't quite tell. King Moth looked up from his crumb-sized throne and adjusted his acorn cap. The normally proud king felt concerned. He was worried about the giant girl. He had prepared for war with the bugs, but nothing could prepare him for Pippa. Meanwhile, Pippa wanted her sock back before school started.

I followed my grandfather into his garden after dinner. He pointed to the entrance of the hedge maze and smiled the way only grandfathers can. "First one out wins a slice of pie," he said, and tapped his watch. I marched in with a flashlight. The hedges towered over my head and smelled faintly of rain. I took a left, then a right, then another right just to be safe. The path kept twisting in places and, after about ten minutes, I realized I had not heard my grandfather laugh once. This was concerning as he was the kind of grandfather who laughed at his own jokes to keep himself company. I stopped walking. The hedge in front of me had not been there a moment ago. I was almost sure of it. My flashlight flickered. I started to wonder if I would ever taste that pie.

Mateo sat on one side of the chess board at table three. Yuki sat on the other. The clock between them ticked monotonously. Mateo moved his rook two squares forward and pressed the clock with two fingers. Yuki moved her knight to the edge of the board and also pressed the clock. The small crowd around table three leaned in over the rope. Mateo took a long sip from the water bottle beside his elbow and set it down without a sound. Then he reached out and slid his queen all the way across the board to the far corner. He cracked a smile. Yuki narrowed her eyes and looked at the board while the clock continued ticking.

Kelly walked slowly down the row of cages at the animal shelter. She hoped she would know the right dog when she saw him. Halfway down the row, a small brown dog named Biscuit watched the door and waited. His cage by the window had begun to feel like a very small place to him. He had seen puppies get chosen before. All he wanted was for someone to choose him today. Kelly stopped in front of his cage. Her chest grew warm in a way she had not felt with any other dog in the shelter. Biscuit pressed his nose against the wire and decided that this girl looked exactly right to him.

Keith stood on the small stage in the cafeteria with a quarter pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. His heart drummed in his ears so loudly that he was sure the microphone would pick it up. He had practiced the vanishing coin trick a hundred times in front of the bathroom mirror, but the bathroom mirror did not have eighty kids in it. Jalen, his classmate, walked up the wooden steps to volunteer. Keith hoped his hands would not shake hard enough to ruin the misdirection. He held the quarter up where Jalen could see it, snapped his fingers in a loud, confident pop, and opened his empty palm. The quarter was gone. Jalen gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. Keith let himself breathe for the first time all morning.

Tommy stood behind his lemonade stand on the sunny side of Maple Street with both hands flat on the counter. He counted his stack of empty cups again. Four sold. He felt certain Lucia was winning across the street, and he hated that he had agreed to the bet in the first place. Lucia stood behind her stand in the cool shade of a maple tree. She counted her own stack of empty cups and felt her stomach drop. Only three sold. She felt certain Tommy was winning over there in the sun. A small swarm of bikes turned onto Maple Street. Both lemonade vendors stood up straighter. Tommy hoped the bikes would stop at his stand and, likewise, Lucia hoped they would stop at hers.

You step away from the giant dinosaur skeleton and notice that the room has gone suddenly quiet. Too quiet. The overhead lights flicker off in the next wing, leaving the bones in pale shadow. Your field trip group is nowhere. You hear the slow click of a guard locking a heavy door somewhere down the hall. The information desk is empty. The gift shop gate is rolling shut with a clatter. You have about thirty seconds to make a decision. You can race for the side exit before it locks for the night. Or you can sneak down to the basement cafeteria first and look for your friend, Robbie. If you run for the side exit, turn to page 12. If you head to the cafeteria, turn to page 18.

Wendell the troll stood at the corner of Maple and Third in a bright yellow vest. He held his stop sign high. He was enjoying his new job. After spending the last three hundred years under a bridge, he liked seeing kids in daylight. Mary ran up to the intersection. She felt nervous about being late for school but was also intrigued by the tall crossing guard with moss-green ears. "Walk fast, but do not run," Wendell said in his deep, kind voice. Mary nodded and crossed the street with quick steps. Wendell watched her make it safely to the other curb and decided this was the best job he had ever had.

We rolled our homemade soapbox car to the top of the hill and lined up at the starting square. Tomas, Bea, and I had spent all summer building it from scrap wood, two old bike wheels, and an unreasonable amount of duct tape. The number painted on the side was eleven, even though Tomas had insisted on seventeen. A race official lifted a yellow flag and counted us down. We climbed into our positions. I gripped the rope that worked the front-wheel steering. The flag dropped. Our car shot down the long hill so fast that the wind made my eyes water and pushed my hair flat against my head. Bea hooted behind me. The white finish line came up faster than we had planned.

Tariq stood on the subway platform and stared up at the colored signs over the tracks. His whole class was gone. His teacher was gone. The Red Line train rumbled away into the tunnel and took most of his fifth grade with it. He felt his stomach twist into a tight little knot. A woman in a long coat with a briefcase stood near the platform map, reading the schedule. She did not look at him. Tariq tried hard to remember the name of the station where his field trip had started that morning. He patted his back pocket for his transit card and felt the cardboard edge of it through his jeans. He felt very small under the high concrete ceiling.

Did your haircut go wrong? You are not alone in the world. Almost everyone has lived through at least one bad haircut, and most people have survived two or three. Here is what you do. First, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that hair grows back. Next, you check the damage in the mirror with calm, scientific interest, the way a detective inspects a fresh clue. Is it short on one side? Wear a hat. Is it short everywhere? Wear a fancier hat. Then, you tell yourself that fashion is mostly a guess made by strangers. The most important step is to act like you wanted it this way. Stand up straight. Make eye contact with people. Confidence makes any haircut look intentional.

I gripped the sub's joystick with both hands as we dropped past three thousand feet. Captain Vega tapped the cracked radar screen and frowned. The deep ocean outside was so dark that our floodlights only lit a thin tunnel of water in front of the porthole. I had practiced this dive in the simulator a hundred times, but the simulator did not capture the drag of the metal hull at full depth. A small green dot blipped onto our screen, low and to the left. "That should not be here," Vega said. I nudged the joystick to angle our lights toward whatever the dot was, and the sub creaked like an old door.

Daniel sat behind the drum kit with both sticks resting on the snare. Polly stood at the microphone with her yellow guitar over her shoulder. The red light above the soundproof door clicked on. "Take twelve," said the voice from the booth speaker. Daniel nodded his head to the beat. Polly began to play and sing. Halfway through the second line, her high E string snapped with a sharp metal twang and curled into the air. She stopped. Daniel laid his sticks flat across the snare. "Get a new string," the voice in the booth said. Polly nodded once, set her guitar against the amp, and walked out of the recording room.

Welcome to Level 7 of Pyramid Pursuit, also known as the Tomb of Whispers. This is the toughest level so far, so make sure that you read this twice. First, enter the tomb through the cracked wall on the left side of the courtyard. Do not use the front door. The mummies will spot you instantly and you are unlikely to be able to handle them all. Next, move the table to reveal the extra health container. Then, slide down the sand chute on the right wall. Steer past the spike traps as you descend. At the bottom, you walk into the torch on the right to open the secret door to the next room. Make sure you save your game before the boss fight as you are unlikely to defeat Gorlon in one shot.

Sonya checked the temperature gauge inside Greenhouse Six and watched the needle drop another degree. The grow lights had flickered twice already. Her stomach tightened with every flicker. The strawberries needed the lamps to stay bright through the night cycle or the entire crop would freeze before morning. Behind her, Captain Reza tapped a pen against his clipboard. "How long do we have?" he asked. Sonya glanced up at the dimming bulbs along the ceiling and tried to keep her voice steady. "Twenty minutes," she said. Sonya wished she had a wrench in her hand more than anything. This job would have been hard enough to do with proper tools.

Princess Rina discovered her gold crown at the center of the palace pond, balanced crookedly on the head of a green frog. For one stunned second, she simply stared at it. Then heat climbed into her cheeks. The royal banquet began in twenty minutes and Rina could already imagine the lords and ladies whispering about the princess who arrived smelling faintly of algae. The frog settled deeper into its lily pad and said, "Finders keepers." Rina knew that a princess should not negotiate with a pond animal who had terrible manners, but she could not wear her dignity on top of her head. So she reached into her sleeve and pulled out the emergency cookie she kept for long speeches. Then she held it over the water. The frog blinked twice, placed one webbed foot on the crown, and hopped closer.

Imani pushed open the metal roof door and stepped into the wind with a red kite tucked beneath one arm. Felix waited near the clothesline, a wooden spool of string balanced in both hands. The wind blew wildly and two white sheets snapped against the brick wall. "Now?" Felix asked. Imani nodded once and lifted the kite over her head. Felix jogged backward across the black roof tar as the string spun from the spool in a pale blur. The kite rose, dropped, caught another gust, and shot upward toward the water tank. Its tail scraped the rusted metal, tangled for one second, and tore free. Imani caught the loose string end against her palm. Felix pointed toward the street below. "Look out!" he shouted as the red kite sailed toward the street.

My job was supposed to be easy: just stack the clear rain jars. That was my entire summer job at the Weather Factory. And it was pretty easy, until a thunder jar rolled from the top shelf, struck the floor, and split open with a sound like a cymbal crash inside a bottle. I felt my stomach drop. The factory darkened. Gray cloud-smoke curled around my ankles. My supervisor spun around from the pressure gauge and shouted, "You need to catch that storm before it reaches the lobby!" I grabbed the nearest butterfly net and ran after the raging rain cloud as it rolled toward the customer waiting area.

Has your day gone wrong in a series of small, irritating disasters? You may need to make a batch of emergency nachos. You will find that this is quite easy to do. First, you get a microwave-safe plate and spread the chips in one even layer. Resist the urge to pile them into a tower. This is how people end up with plain chips under all the good toppings, which may strike you as an undesirable outcome. Next, you scatter shredded cheese across the surface. Then, you can add beans, salsa, peppers, or anything else to customize the nachos to your taste. Now, heat the plate until the cheese melts. That should be about it. The last thing you will want to do is to sit down, take a bite, and remind yourself that tomorrow is a new day. You can start fresh again and make more emergency nachos if the world conspires against your happiness yet again.

Rafi pushed the noodle cart down the empty street, its wooden wheels clicking over the old cobblestones. Celeste walked beside him with a brass lantern, sending thin strips of yellow light across shuttered windows and rain gutters. Rafi stopped beside the cracked fountain in the square. Celeste lifted the lantern higher. The soup pot lid rattled twice, spun in place, and tipped sideways. A tiny blue dragon poked its head out of the broth and blinked at them through the steam. "No customers after midnight," Celeste said. The dragon sneezed and then sank back into the noodles. Rafi tightened both hands on the cart handle, and Celeste lowered the lantern as the bell rang again.

Pippa lifted the blanket and could not believe her eyes! She had discovered a tiny kingdom under her bed complete with matchbox houses, a thimble fountain, and a castle built from puzzle pieces she had been blamed for losing. At first, she felt pure wonder. Then she noticed that the castle stood directly on top of her missing sock and wonder gave way to irritation. King Moth rose from his crumb-sized throne and adjusted his acorn cap. The normally proud king felt concerned. He was worried about the giant girl. He had prepared for war with the bugs, but nothing could prepare him for Pippa. Meanwhile, Pippa wanted her sock back before the bus came.

I followed my grandfather into his garden after dinner. He pointed to the entrance of the hedge maze and smiled like he was sharing a secret with me. "First one out wins a slice of pie," he said, and tapped the dial of his old watch. I marched in with a flashlight clutched against my hip. The hedges towered over my head, dense and dark and smelling faintly of rain. I took a left, then a right, then another right just to be safe. The path kept twisting in places I did not remember and, after about ten minutes, I realized I had not heard my grandfather laugh once. This concerned me as he was the kind of grandfather who laughed at his own jokes to keep himself company. I stopped walking. The hedge directly in front of me had not been there a moment earlier. I was certain of this. My flashlight flickered, steadied, and flickered again. I began to wonder, very seriously, whether I would ever taste that slice of pie.

Mateo sat on one side of the chess board at table three. Yuki sat on the other. The clock between them ticked monotonously. Around them, twenty other tables hummed with quieter games, but the crowd was pressed up against the rope on this game. Mateo moved his rook two squares forward and pressed the clock with two fingers. Yuki moved her knight to the edge of the board and also pressed the clock. The small crowd leaned in. Mateo took a long sip from his water bottle and set it down without a sound. Then he reached out and slid his queen all the way across the board to the far corner. He cracked a smile. Yuki narrowed her eyes and looked at the board for a long moment while the clock continued ticking.

Kelly walked slowly down the row of cages at the animal shelter. She hoped she would simply know which dog was the right one when she saw him, the way her mother told her that she might in the parking lot. Halfway down the row, a small brown dog named Biscuit watched the door and waited. He had been waiting all morning. He had been waiting for many days, and now his cage by the window had begun to feel like a very small place even for a very small dog. Biscuit wanted someone to choose him today. Kelly stopped in front of his cage. Her chest grew warm in a way she had not felt with any other dog, and her mother, standing behind her, did not have to say a word. Biscuit pressed his nose against the wire and decided, with the certainty dogs are uniquely allowed, that this particular girl looked exactly right.

Keith stood at the center of the cafeteria stage with a quarter pinched between his thumb and index finger. His heart drummed in his ears so loudly he was certain the microphone clipped to his collar would broadcast it. He had practiced the vanishing coin trick exactly one hundred and twelve times in front of the bathroom mirror, but the bathroom mirror had never contained eighty of his classmates. Jalen climbed the wooden steps to volunteer. Keith held the quarter up where Jalen could see it, drew in one long breath, and snapped his fingers in a loud, confident pop. When he opened his palm, the quarter was gone. Jalen gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. Keith let himself breathe for the first time all morning.

Tommy stood behind his lemonade stand on the sunny side of Maple Street with both hands flat on the cardboard counter and the late June sun pinking the back of his neck. He counted his stack of empty cups again, slowly, as if a fifth might appear if he was patient. Four. Four sold. He felt absolutely certain that Lucia was winning across the street, and he hated that he had ever agreed to the bet. Across the street, Lucia stood behind her stand in the cool shade of the corner maple. She counted her empty cups for the third time and felt her stomach drop another inch. Three. Only three sold. She felt sure Tommy was crushing her over there in the sun. A small swarm of bikes turned onto Maple Street and slowed. Both lemonade vendors stood up straighter. Tommy hoped the bikes would stop at his stand and, likewise, Lucia hoped they would stop at hers.

You step away from the giant dinosaur skeleton and notice that the museum has gone suddenly, completely quiet. Too quiet. The overhead lights flicker off in the next wing, leaving the bones in deep blue shadow and the wall plaques unreadable. Your field trip group is nowhere. Your bus chaperone, who counted heads exactly once two hours ago, is presumably already on the bus, congratulating herself on a job well done. You hear the slow click of a guard locking a heavy oak door somewhere down the hall. The information desk is empty. The gift shop gate is rolling shut with a clatter you can feel in your sneakers. You have, by your best estimate, about thirty seconds to make a decision. You can sprint for the side exit by the planetarium before the night locks click into place. Or you can detour through the basement cafeteria and look for your friend, Robbie. If you run for the side exit, turn to page 12. If you head to the cafeteria, turn to page 18.

Wendell the troll stood at the corner of Maple Avenue and Third Street in a bright yellow safety vest. He held his stop sign high above his enormous green head. He was enjoying his new job. After spending three hundred years under a bridge, he enjoyed seeing children in daylight. Mary ran up to the corner with her backpack flopping wildly behind her. She was a little nervous about being late but also curious about the very tall crossing guard with the moss-green ears and the surprisingly neat bow tie. "Walk fast, but do not run," Wendell said in his deep, kind voice. Mary nodded once and crossed the street in quick, careful steps. Wendell watched her make it safely to the other curb and decided that this was the best job he had ever held.

We rolled our homemade soapbox car to the top of the hill and lined it up at the chalked starting square. Tomas, Bea, and I had built it from scrap wood, two old bike wheels, and an unreasonable amount of silver duct tape during the summer in Bea's driveway. The number painted on the side was eleven, even though Tomas had insisted on seventeen. We climbed into our positions and I gripped the rope that controlled our front-wheel steering, trying not to think about the wobble we had never quite fixed. The flag dropped. Our car shot down the long hill so fast that the wind made my eyes water and pushed my hair flat against my head. Bea hooted somewhere behind me. The white finish line came up faster than we had planned, and the rope in my hand suddenly felt very short.

Tariq stood on the subway platform and stared up at the colored signs over the tracks. His whole class was gone. His teacher was gone. The Red Line train rumbled away into the tunnel and took most of his fifth grade class with it. He felt his stomach twist into a tight little knot, the kind he had only ever felt the time he forgot his solo at the spring concert. A woman in a long coat with a briefcase stood near the platform map, reading the schedule. She did not look at him. Tariq tried hard to remember the name of the station where his field trip had started that morning, but the names on the wall blurred into colors. He patted his back pocket for his transit card and felt the cardboard edge of it through his jeans. He felt very small under the high concrete ceiling.

Did your haircut go absolutely, spectacularly wrong? You are not alone. Almost everyone has lived through at least one bad haircut, and most people have survived two or three. Here is what you do. First, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that hair, miraculously, grows back. Next, you check the damage in the mirror with calm, scientific interest, the way a detective inspects a fresh clue. Is it short on one side and long on the other? Wear a hat. Is it short everywhere? Wear a fancier hat. Then, tell yourself that fashion is mostly a guess made by strangers in a back room somewhere. The most important step, and the only one that really matters, is to act like you wanted it this way. Stand up straight. Make eye contact with everyone. Confidence makes any haircut, even a tragic one, look entirely intentional.

I gripped the sub's joystick with both hands as we sank past three thousand feet. Captain Vega tapped the radar screen with a knuckle and frowned at the readout. Beyond the porthole, the deep ocean was so dark that our floodlights only lit a thin tunnel of water in front of us; everything else was the kind of black that felt heavy on my chest. I had practiced this dive in the simulator a hundred times, but the simulator did not include the drag that the real hull made at full depth, or the way the metal seemed to be reminding us that we were guests down here. A small green dot blipped on screen, low and to the port side. "That should not be here," Vega said. I nudged the joystick to angle our lights toward whatever the dot was, and the sub creaked like an old wooden door in a very strong wind.

Daniel sat behind the kit with both drumsticks resting across the snare. Polly stood at the floor microphone with her yellow guitar slung over her shoulder. The red light above the heavy soundproof door clicked on. "Take twelve," said the voice from the booth speaker. Daniel nodded his head to the beat, tapping along on the rim of the snare. Polly leaned into the microphone and began playing and singing the chorus. Halfway through the second line, her high E string snapped with a sharp metal twang and curled into the air above the headstock. She stopped singing and let her right hand fall to her side. Daniel set his sticks flat across the snare and looked toward the booth window. "Get a new string," the voice in the booth said over the speaker. Polly nodded once, leaned her guitar against the amp, and walked out of the booth.

Welcome to Level 7 of Pyramid Pursuit, also known as the Tomb of Whispers. This is the toughest level so far, so make sure that you read this guide twice before you begin. First, you enter the tomb through the cracked wall on the left side of the courtyard, not through the front door. The mummies will spot you instantly through the main entrance, and swarm you before you get anywhere near the exit. Next, move the table to reveal a hidden health container. Grab that, then slide down the sand chute on the right. Steer past the spikes as you descend. At the bottom, you walk into the torch on the right to open the secret door to the next room. Make sure you save your game before the boss fight as Gorlon is likely to end your game quickly until you learn his patterns.

Sonya checked the temperature gauge mounted beside the door of Greenhouse Six and watched the needle drop another half-degree. The grow lights along the ceiling had flickered twice in the past minute. She could feel her stomach tighten with every dim pulse. The strawberries needed the lamps to stay bright through the entire night cycle or the whole crop would frost over before the morning shift arrived. Behind her Captain Reza tapped a pen against his clipboard in a steady, irritating rhythm. "How long do we have, kid?" he asked. Sonya glanced at the bulbs flickering in their long rows above and tried to keep her voice steady. "Twenty minutes," she said. Sonya had never wanted a wrench in her hand so badly. This job would have been hard enough to do with proper tools.