Mrs. Ruiz nods in my direction. Tailee looks right at me, her large brown eyes locked on my face as if debating whether or not I’m really standing in front of her.
“Hey, Tailee.”
Mrs. Ruiz leaves us without a word, Pepe barking after her. Tailee closes the front door and wraps her arms around herself to stop from shivering. “What are you doing here?”
I close my eyes, willing myself to stay put and not run all the way home. The script Dr. Miles and I rehearsed over and over bubbles to the surface of my brain. “I didn’t act like a good friend and I shouldn’t have ignored you. It wasn’t a nice thing to do. It was hard for me to talk after the accident, and I started to clam up and not act like myself.” I swallow and keep my eyes squeezed tight. The rest of what Dr. Miles and I practiced flies from my mind.
Silence.
Keep going, Luna, I think. “I got your Christmas present and I’m going into surgery today and wanted to say thank you.” I shuffle from side to side, old snow crunching under my boots. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend now after everything.” I open my eyes. Tailee’s still standing there, her lips pressed together.
The crisp air seeps under my jacket and chills my skin. Tailee shivers, her giant Rutgers hoodie doing little to keep her warm. She shakes her head. “Luna, I want to be your friend, but it feels like you don’t want to be mine. You cut me out.” Tailee tugs a gold chain out from underneath her hoodie. The other half of the best friend pendant she sent me dangles in the air. “You looked so angry outside the deli that day I saw you. It made me mad because I tried to be there for you.”
“I know you were there for me. Even when I wasn’t a good friend to you.”
“You weren’t. At all.” Her voice hitches a bit. I look up, and her eyes are narrowed. That same look she gave to the boy who pushed me down on the playground years ago. I flinch. It doesn’t feel good having Tailee look at me like that.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to get better at trying,” I say. “But I’m not going to be the old Luna. I can’t pretend to be that happy or relaxed when I’m not there yet. But I’m learning how to feel better and how to express myself. The new Luna won’t be so bad. I promise.”
Tailee tilts her head to the side as if trying to see through me to the truth. “I missed you. I know you’ve been through a lot, but you could’ve trusted me.”
“I should have,” I say.
I stare past Tailee at the Ruizes’ cheery yellow door. It looks out of place surrounded by dirty and melting snow, but it still somehow fits.
“Can we try being best friends again?” I ask, my voice soft. “I promise I won’t disappear.”
A chill kicks up and Tailee blows into her hands, rubbing them on her arms.
“I think so,” she says. “I love you, Luna. As long as you pinkie promise to let me know what’s going on. Let me be there for you.”
I stick out my pinkie, and Tailee wraps hers around mine, squeezing tight.
“You said you’ve got surgery today?”
“Yeah, and I’m terrified. What if I never look the same?”
Tailee shrugs. “You’ll still be you.”
I wrap Tailee in a big hug, squeezing her tight. She wraps her arms around me too. Relief floods my body. “I’m sorry for not giving you a chance.” We pull apart, and it feels like I could float away. “I should’ve known.”
“You definitely should have,” she says. “You’re my best friend. I don’t care if you have three heads and forty toes. It would be kind of cool if you did actually.”
I roll my eyes. The smile on my face is so big that it’s starting to hurt. “Maybe I’ll ask Dr. Tucker if he can give me a pair of wings.”
She scrunches her nose. “Then you’d have to cut holes in all your shirts.”
I look down at my watch. Mom will be mad if she knows I snuck out. “I need to go, but can I call you once I’m feeling better? Can we have a sleepover soon?” I think about Alessandro and Chiara. About the spazzatrici. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”
Tailee nods, her own lips turned up in a smile. “Just don’t take months this time. Please?”
“Deal.”
We hug again once more before I run back home. My heart races as I speed around the corner and down my street. Chilly air whips against my face and wraps around my body, but I don’t feel cold. Not at all.
I take the stairs up to my house two at a time and swing the door open. “Luna Andrea Marie Bianchini, what on earth were you doing outside?” Mom yells from the kitchen as I race down the hall to my bedroom.
I pause and run back to the stairs. “I went to Tailee’s! We’re going to be friends again.”
“Really?” Mom laughs. “Good. But you still shouldn’t have been outside.”
“Sorry.” I run back down the hall to my room.
“We need to leave soon. I just need to finish getting your dad ready.” Mom’s voice trails after me.
I hurry into my room and grab my hoodie off the window bench when a piece of paper fluttering in the breeze catches my eye. Attached to a rock sitting on my windowsill is an envelope and a small brown package. I open the window and grab the letter and package, staring at Alessandro’s darkened window. Scrawled in his now familiar handwriting is my name and a little drawing of the moon. Underneath, he wrote: Open the package first.
I slide my thumbnail under the tape holding the crisp paper together and tug the small rectangular case out. It’s a beautiful blue velvet, similar to the jewelry box Tailee’s best friend necklace came in. It opens with a small creak. Sitting on a silk pillow is a spazzatrici crest, just like Chiara’s, except it’s on a silver bracelet.
Dear Luna,
Good luck today. Even though you don’t need it.
Love,
Alessandro and Chiara
P.S. We hope you like your gift. It’s made from moon rock. Just like ours. You’re an honorary spazzatrici and should have the crest too.
I put on the bracelet and shake out my wrist, watching as the small diamonds in the crest glitter in the sunlight.
A knock bounces off my bedroom door. I quickly take off the bracelet and put it back in its box, along with my cornicello and Tailee’s best friend necklace. Dr. Tucker said no jewelry would be allowed during surgery. Mom pokes her head in. “Ready?”
I nod.
She smiles again, this time a little more forced. As if she’s putting on her brave face just for me. Mom probably got as much sleep as I did.
We make our way down the hall. She takes hold of my hand and squeezes. I squeeze back.
Luna Bianchini
236 Marigold Court
Staten Island, NY 10301
Chapter 28
It’s been three weeks since my surgery and tomorrow’s my first day back at school. Even though sleeping has gotten easier and the nightmares are happening less and less, there’s no way I’ll get any sleep tonight.
I drag my desk lamp closer to the last page in a big book of spazzatrici drawings. The silver and gold sparkle in the lamplight, threading together to create a tapestry of brilliantly shining stars on the rich black background of space. I smile and put down my pencil, carefully closing the book. Le Spazzatrici is scrawled across the cover in gold cursive. Tailee’s very late Christmas present.
I grab my mug and stare at the window. My reflection looks back at me. It’s not the face I had before the accident, but it’s not the one I had right after, either. Dr. Tucker said I didn’t need to wear the mask anymore. There’s some swelling and bruising from surgery. There’re scars and burns left behind, and Dr. Tucker said my nose will have a little bend to it. Not the Bianchini beak, but that’s okay. This new face and I are still getting used to each other, but we’re settling in. Patience, like the shooting star said.
There’s another surgery I need in the summer to help correct some more breathing issues. But I’m not as scared anymore. Plus, Dad said we could plan a trip to Italy once he finishes up phy
sical therapy and my surgery is over. I hold on to my cornicello and take a sip of my tea.
Drawing comes easy tonight. The four spazzatrici towers revealing themselves as the sketch progresses. Sharp, tall towers like I saw in Alessandro and Chiara’s book. In one of the windows is a pair of spazzatrici, peering up into the glittering night sky through a giant telescope.
A soft knock on my window rouses me from my drawing. I look past my reflection to see Alessandro waving wildly from the platform in my tree. The ship floats behind him, lit up by hundreds of fireflies.
I open my window and let the familiar warm breeze into my room.
“Hey,” I yell.
“It’s been a long time,” Alessandro says.
“It has,” I say. “What’re you doing out here?”
I lean farther out the window. The air tickles the right side of my face. I smile. The sweaty mask really is gone for good.
“It’s nice seeing you happy.” Alessandro notices the spazzatrici crest hanging from my wrist. He grins. “Heading up to the heavens one last time.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re leaving for home tomorrow.” He nods back toward the Stella Cadente bobbing up and down behind him.
Leaving. The word echoes across the short distance between us. My heart flutters in my chest like a moth bumping around a streetlamp. “But you can’t leave.” I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“We can write each other,” he says. “It’s not like we’ll disappear.”
“Will you come back to Staten Island?”
Alessandro shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, well, writing’s not the same as hanging out every night.” I stare at my hands. “I’m really going to miss you.”
He burrows his flushed face beneath his jacket collar.
“Do you have a second?” Before he can say anything, I rush over to my desk and tear out one of the pages from Tailee’s Le Spazzatrici book. “I drew this for my friend, but it’s of you. So you should have it. I can draw her another picture.”
The blush creeps farther up Alessandro’s face upon looking at the drawing. “That’s me?”
“It is,” I say. “Flying around in your ship.”
“The hero of the heavens.” He reads the caption aloud.
“Well, you pretty much are.”
“I’m sorry about the shooting star.” Alessandro scratches the back of his neck. “Maybe next time we can help you catch another one. One that’ll grant your wish.”
I peer up at the sky. The moon and stars watch us from the heavens. “It’s okay. I didn’t need the wish anyway. He was right. I can do it on my own.”
“I’m glad you’re figuring it out.”
The breeze picks up, rocking the ship back and forth under its giant black balloon.
“Where’s Chiara?” I ask.
“She’s getting the ship ready. She said you’d better come up with us or she’s going to need to have a talk with you again.”
I grin. “Let me grab my coat.”
“And your sketch pad?”
“Of course.”
Alessandro takes hold of my hands and helps me aboard. As I step onto the Stella Cadente, the warm air vibrates around me. Back in my bedroom, the pages of Tailee’s Le Spazzatrici book flutter on my desk. One last adventure to the sky and then they’ll be gone. My chest tightens.
Not gone forever. As long as I remember to look up, I’ll see them, flying among the stars.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people I want to thank for helping this book become a reality. A real live book! First and foremost, I’m endlessly thankful for Dhonielle Clayton, Sona Charaipotra, Victoria Marini, and the rest of the Cake Literary team. They made my dream of becoming a published author come true and I get a little teary-eyed whenever I think about them. They guided the entire process, providing a listening ear (for ideas and for venting). Words cannot describe what they mean to me.
To my lovely editor, Liz Kossnar, who did so much to make this story what it is. I’m forever grateful for her encouraging notes and for kindly telling me when something wasn’t working. To Kate Zelic for reading over all the therapy scenes. To the fabulous Simon & Schuster team: Andre Wheeler, Justin Chanda, Jenica Nasworthy, and Lucy Ruth Cummins, Milena Giunco, and Dana Wulfekotte. Thank you all for bringing this book to life and loving Luna as much as I do.
To my sweet and (mostly) patient fiancé, Dan Gardon. He’s one of my biggest supporters and helped me buckle down and finish writing this book. No matter how much I’d whine or procrastinate, Dan did his best to keep me focused. And most of the time, I’d listen to him and get back to work (maybe not most, but a good number of times). He cheers me on, supports my dreams, and always makes sure our cats, Gloom and Doom, don’t pester me too much when I’m writing. He always listened to me read things out loud without getting too annoyed when I went off on tangents about things like what a shooting star sounds like and if magic is powerful enough to keep a human from exploding in outer space.
I’m not sure where I’d be without my sisters, Andrea Cannistra and Allyson Lynch. I realize I was the pesky little sister growing up (very much a Chiara) and we didn’t always see eye to eye, but I’m so happy I had them to protect me and prepare me for the world. You still look out for me and keep me going strong. They’re the best sisters a girl could have.
My dad, John Cannistra, has done so much to build me up. He never once doubted my dream to become a writer and he’s always quick to remind me of how proud he is. Being his daughter has made me a brave, ambitious, and resilient person. I’m so thankful for him caring so much about me.
Anne Ursu, Swati Avasthi, Kelly Easton, Laura Ruby, the Hamline Hamsters, and all the other faculty, staff, and students at Hamline University pushed me to be the best writer I could be and made me go beyond the surface level and straight into the heart of what matters. There were so many times I didn’t feel like I could write, but they taught me to push that voice aside and keep going. I’ll never forget my first day at Hamline and how nervous I was. But they all taught me to be kind to myself and helped me find my voice. I wouldn’t be the writer I am without them.
None of this would have been possible without my big, beautiful family—the Cannistras and DeSarios. Growing up with so many people all up in your business seems like a pain, but really I couldn’t be more grateful. They’re all so important to me and I’m lucky to have them in my life. This book is for them.
Even though she wasn’t here to see my first book printed, I want to thank my mom. She always encouraged me to write and was so proud of all my stories and poems—even hanging them up in the kitchen (much to my embarrassment). She taught me to be creative and to take risks. She was a bright light in my life, and I’m sad I can’t share this moment with her, but fortunate enough to have her as my mom.
And to my readers: Thank you for reading my debut novel. It’s scary taking a chance on an idea and putting your soul out there for all to see. I’m so grateful you picked up my book. I hope it brought as much magic to your life as it did mine. I love you all.
About the Author
Meg Cannistra grew up in Sarasota, Florida, where she spent her childhood chasing after older sisters and cousins and learning how to cook. After living in New York City and North New Jersey for a few years, Meg now resides with her two cats, Gloom and Doom, in Charlotte, North Carolina. She has a BA in English literature from Flagler College and an MFA in creative writing from Hamline University. When she's not taking pictures of her cats or wandering around grocery stores, she writes magical, mysterious, and sometimes scary stories. The Trouble with Shooting Stars is her first novel. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram at @MegCannistra, and learn more about her books at megcannistra.com.
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Simon & Schuster · New York
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/kids
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Meg-Cannistra<
br />
SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by CAKE Literary LLC
Jacket and interior illustrations copyright © 2019 by Dana Wulfekotte
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected].
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event.
For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Jacket design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
Interior design by Hilary Zarycky
Jacket Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Dana Wulfekotte
Jacket design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Cannistra, Meg, author.
Title: The trouble with shooting stars / Meg Cannistra.
Description: First edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2019] | Summary: Twelve-year-old Luna, who is recovering from a disfiguring car accident, is inspired to heal by two magical neighbors who take her up to the heavens to sweep the moon and stars.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018049035| ISBN 9781534428966 (hardback) | ISBN 9781534428980 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Stars—Fiction. | Magic—Fiction. | Disfigured persons—Fiction. | Self-esteem—Fiction. | Family problems—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance. | JUVENILE FICTION / Family / General (see also headings under Social Issues). | JUVENILE FICTION / Fairy Tales & Folklore / Country & Ethnic.
The Trouble with Shooting Stars Page 21