by Erin Teagan
“Hurry and go check in,” Ella urged. “I can’t wait to show you our cottage!”
I grabbed Dad and pulled him toward the hangar where there was a giant “REGISTER HERE” sign. Inside the hangar, equipment and workstations filled an open space wide enough for the biggest planes. As I took in the enormous room, from its cool concrete floors to the stories-high ceiling, the entire place echoed with the voices of kids and families. There was a greenhouse in the middle of the hangar; a computer station with monitors climbing up the wall; something that looked like an engine, all falling apart on a table; machines big and small everywhere; and a cylinder as tall and wide as a house in the corner of the room. I was pretty sure that was the underwater astronaut training pool.
Dad squeezed my hand and we followed a mom and kid toward the front of the hangar with a wall of windows looking out to the bay. Registration was on a long table with three signs. “AVIATION.” “ROCKET SCIENCE.” “CETUS.”
I marched us over to the “CETUS” sign where a woman holding a clipboard stood up. Her name tag said “Sarah.”
“I’m Luciana Vega,” I said, waving.
“It’s so nice to meet you.” She made a check next to my name and shook our hands. “I’m Sarah, one of your Cetus counselors. Here’s the key to your cottage, a map of the camp, and your name badge.” She tapped her clipboard. “We’re just waiting for one more person and then we’ll beach-buggy over to the ocean side together for a welcome bonfire on the beach.”
I was going to ride in a beach buggy! For a welcome bonfire! I clapped. I couldn’t help it.
Sarah laughed. “Go ahead and unpack and get settled. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
When we got back outside, Mom waved to us from the beach.
Isadora was awake, pressing her little toes deep into the pale sand and when I sat next to her, she plopped into my lap. I hugged her and kissed her cheeks. Suddenly, sitting here with my new baby sister made beach buggies and yellow cottages in the sand feel not so exciting.
“I’m going to miss Izzy so much,” I said.
“This program is an amazing opportunity for you,” Mom said. “You’ll have a wonderful time.”
I nodded. The underwater habitat was normally reserved for training real astronauts who were preparing to go to space. The youth training program had special permission to use the underwater habitat so kids could feel what it was like to be an actual astronaut. It was an amazing opportunity for someone like me.
“Want us to help you unpack?” Dad asked as Mom stood up and dusted the sand off her legs.
I shook my head. “It’s okay.” The sun was starting to get low in the sky. I knew they had a long drive back. I took a breath. “I’ve got it.”
“Don’t forget, you can call us anytime,” Mom said. We hugged, and then I watched my family as they walked to the parking lot, Isadora laying her head on Dad’s shoulder. For a minute, watching them leave, I felt overwhelmed with homesickness, but then Ella burst out of one of the cottages and ran to me. “I saved you a bottom bunk. Come on!”
I jogged along the sand with her to the first cottage, squinting past the bright yellow paint to read the sign over the door: “Chincoteague.” Inside there were two sets of bunk beds pushed against the wall, a bathroom, and a dresser for all of our clothes.
Ella patted a bottom bunk. “Take this one so we can be next to each other.” She had already claimed the other one, her stars and moon bedding neatly laid out.
But just as I was about to throw my sheets onto the bed, we heard a helicopter. The whirring sound got closer and closer until it seemed as though the helicopter was right overhead. We bounced up and looked out the window. Kids were gathering around the grassy area where I saw a helicopter pad.
“I think it’s landing here!” I said.
“Does that say Mars Extreme?” Ella asked, her mouth open.
“Mars what?” I asked.
“It does. It says Mars Extreme!” Ella hopped up and down, something I’d never seen Ella do before. The Ella I knew from Space Camp was serious. And definitely not prone to overexcitement.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, laughing.
“You don’t know Mars Extreme?” Ella said. “The company owned by Lance Jacobs? The famous space inventor?”
“Oh!” I said. Suddenly, I knew who she was talking about: the guy I’d seen on TV with all of his fancy electric cars and on the cover of a science magazine wearing a space suit. He was the guy who promised to send the first people to Mars.
“Do you think it’s really him?” Ella said.
I tossed my sheets and blanket onto my bed. “Let’s find out.”
We ran out of the cabin just as the helicopter touched down. Ella grabbed my hand, and we held our breaths, waiting to see who would come out.
Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Book design by Suzanne LaGasa
Author photo by Patty Schuchman
Cover and interior illustrations by Lucy Truman
All American Girl marks, Luciana™, Luciana Vega™, and Girl of the Year™ are trademarks of American Girl. Used under license by Scholastic Inc.
First printing 2018
e-ISBN 978-1-338-18649-9
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