The World Ends in April

by Stacy McAnulty

  For the first time in months, my room—my life—is prepper-free and without reminders of the apocalypse. The world didn’t end. And that’s something I have to live with. We all do.

  There’s just one more thing I need to take care of.

  It’s been over two weeks since the world didn’t end. Some people still glare as they pass me in the halls, but the evil comments are less common. Every day, Mack, Londyn, and I eat lunch alone, but not in the locker room. We sit in the booth that Londyn once claimed as her own. Maybe this is just how it’s meant to be. That doesn’t mean I can’t try to make things better.

  Before homeroom, I pull Mack and Londyn into a huddle.

  “We need one more Nature Club meeting,” I tell them.

  “Dude, no way Mrs. Walsh is going to allow that. I don’t think teachers trust you anymore.” He twists Candy in his hands.

  “Not at school.”

  “Where?” Londyn asks.

  “Molly’s Ice Cream Shop. Saturday.”

  Londyn’s eyes grow big, and a slow smile spreads across her face.

  “We have a few things left on our bucket list,” I continue. “Mack, can you spread the word? For some reason, people still like and trust you.”

  “Yeah,” Londyn agrees. “Norie and I are like the plague.”

  “I got this.” Mack holds out his right hand, and both Londyn and I place ours on top.

  * * *

  • • •

  On the last Saturday of April, Dad drives Londyn and me to Molly’s Ice Cream Shop. We’re ten minutes early on purpose. I want to put in our order before everyone arrives. This is my treat, even if it will cost almost all the money I have left from Christmas.

  Mack arrives next. His mom holds open the door, and when she sees me, she nods before leaving. I guess she’s not mad anymore.

  “Over here!” I yell.

  Candy taps across the tiled floor. I love that sound. I’m going to miss that sound. Londyn guides him to a seat at the table.

  Jade and Izabell walk in together. They aren’t smiling and happy like Mack. But they came, and that’s something.

  Londyn pats me on the back and whispers in my ear, “Even if this is a disaster, remember, we’re getting ice cream.”

  I laugh.

  Spencer, Ajay, and Dominic arrive next. They’re joking around and trying to yank each other’s hoods up. But when Dominic sees me, his expression hardens.

  “Thanks to you, I might have to repeat seventh grade!” He slumps down in a seat. “I’m behind in everything because you said there would be no grades and no end-of-the-year testing.”

  I stare at my shoes.

  Once Wyatt and Brent show up, the ten of us crowd around a table made for six. I don’t take a seat. They want to order ice cream, but I tell them to wait.

  “What is this ‘meeting’ about?” Spencer asks, doing air quotes around the word meeting. “Are you going to tell us about another catastrophe? Maybe an alien invasion.”

  “Maybe the sun is about to burn out,” Dominic says. “The world will fall into darkness.”

  “Stop.” I hold out my hands.

  “If the sun dies,” Ajay explains, “darkness will not be the problem. The sun’s expanding mass will first engulf Mercury and then—”

  “I don’t care,” Jade cuts him off. Suddenly, Ajay is on the receiving end of Jade’s disgusted looks.

  “I forgot.” Ajay slaps himself in the forehead. “You are obsessed with global warming. That is how you want the world to go.”

  “Please stop.” I set my hands on the sticky table and lean forward.

  “Nuclear war. That’s what’s going to do us in,” Dominic says.

  “Ebola!” Spencer yells.

  “A robot revolution,” Brent adds.

  “Thanks for coming!” I shout to get their attention. The whole restaurant goes quiet for a second and looks our way. My face burns.

  Londyn stares at me. When I meet her eyes, she nods and smiles.

  I clear my throat. “I know April seventh didn’t turn out like we thought it would.”

  “Like you thought!” Spencer snaps.

  “Come on, dude,” Mack says, rocking in his chair. “You all bought it. You all thought the world was going to go boooooom! None of you came to school on the seventh.”

  Spencer grunts.

  I say, “It’s okay. I get it. I started this, um…” Lie? Conspiracy? “I brought it up. And I kept bringing it up.”

  Everyone’s glaring at me. Only Londyn, Mack, and Wyatt look like they don’t want to strangle me.

  “I believed Dr. Cologne. Even after my dad said it wasn’t true and Mrs. Walsh said it wasn’t true. I believed it all.” I ball my hands into fists. I’ve never publicly declared that I acted like an idiot before.

  “I wanted it to be true,” I continue. “I don’t always like school. I’d be happy for it to end.”

  Dominic sighs. “Me too.”

  I swallow hard. “And the thought of facing each day without…my best friend, well…living off canned foods for a few years seemed like a better deal than going to school without Mack.”

  I focus on the ceiling because I don’t want to know if they’re giving me hateful stares.

  “But then we started Nature Club and things got better. I looked forward to our meetings. It was my favorite part of school.”

  I risk a glance. Izabell gives me a half smile.

  “And you guys seemed to like the club too. Right?”

  “I did,” Mack says.

  “But you like everything,” Londyn jokes.

  “Doesn’t matter if I liked it,” Dominic cuts in. “I’m failing.”

  “You wanted TEOTWAWKI to be true too,” Londyn says. “You’d rather the world end than do more math homework. Admit it.” She picks at her nails. “We all had a reason for believing.”

  “I just thought it would be cool,” Spencer says with a shrug.

  Londyn rolls her eyes. “None of you were forced to go to Nature Club. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “If we could just focus on me. This is about me.” No one laughs at my joke. “I can admit that I wanted this asteroid to hit. Not anywhere close to Hamilton. Siberia would have been good. I didn’t think I could handle school alone.”

  “Aw, Elle…” Mack’s voice trails off.

  “But once we had the club, I hated school a little bit less.” I hold my thumb and finger about an inch apart. “I liked showing you guys stuff about prepping, and getting ready for the end.”

  “So you were doing it to have us follow you around?” Spencer asks.

  “No. I believed it. One thousand percent believed it,” I say. “I guess I’m trying to say I’m sorry. Sorry for getting you mixed up in this doomsday scenario. Especially you, Londyn. You got suspended because of me.”

  She shrugs like it was no big deal.

  “It was fun! We drank toilet water,” Mack reminds us all, just as a waiter arrives carrying a huge bowl.

  “One kitchen-sink sundae.” He sets it down. Fifty scoops of ice cream, with fifty little whipped-cream hats, jiggle.

  “Are you trying to bribe us into forgiving you?” Brent asks. “If so, you’re forgiven.”

  “No, I’m done saying I’m sorry. This is the thank-you part. Thanks for being part of Nature Club.”

  “Well, you’re welcome.” Mack leans in to inspect the bowl, his nose practically on a maraschino cherry.

  “Be right back with the individual bowls,” the waiter says.

  “Don’t bother,” Londyn says. “We only need spoons.” She hands out the silverware.

  “I’ve been part of every club at Hamilton,” Wyatt says. “This is the only one that ever got shut down. Makes it special.” Then he digs in.

  “I can
’t eat dairy,” Ajay tells me. “But I appreciate the gesture.”

  “I’ll eat your share,” Dominic offers. He looks up and smiles at me.

  “Not if I do it first.” Spencer plunges in.

  “Thanks,” Izabell says as she gets her spoon.

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy.”

  “I mean, thanks for everything,” she says. “I liked Nature Club. It was fun.”

  “It was,” Jade admits. “You’ve inspired me.”

  “I have?”

  “I’m starting a Save-the-World Club in the fall. You’re welcome to join.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Everyone—except Ajay—eats until their stomach hurts. All that remains in the “kitchen sink” is a grayish sludge with flecks of sprinkles and nuts. Londyn, Mack, and I are the only ones left at the table. We still have twenty minutes before Mrs. Jefferson picks us up. We’re going to a Japanese zombie movie. “Foreign film” is one of the few doable things left on our bucket list that doesn’t require running.

  “We should start a new bucket list,” I say as I drag my spoon through the melty mess. “Now that we have endless time, except for, well…” I pat Mack’s hand. “Except this dude is leaving us.” Walking into Hamilton Middle next school year without Mack on my elbow isn’t going to be easy.

  “I’ll be around plenty,” Mack says. “And I’ve got the first thing for our new bucket list. Never eat a kitchen-sink sundae again. I might throw up.”

  “Me too.” Londyn clutches her stomach. “But we’re still getting popcorn, right?”

  I pretend to gag.

  “Listen, Elle, Londyn. Maybe I won’t go to Conrad next year,” Mack says without a hint of joking. “I could wait until high school.”

  “Nope. No way,” I snap. “You’re going. You’ll play an instrument. You’ll join the swim team. You’ll miss me terribly. You’re going.” I cross my arms.

  “Dang,” he says. “Look at Elle laying down the law.” And he laughs, which almost makes me want to take back what I said.

  “So, what else for our list?” I pull a small notebook and a pen out of my back pocket. I’m prepared for this.

  “Paris!” Mack says. “Remember? You want to go to Paris.”

  “Oh good,” I say sarcastically, “we’re being realistic.”

  “The world isn’t ending in six months, Elle. We’ve got all the time we need. We’ll go to France when we’re sixteen.”

  “Write down marathon.” Londyn taps the notebook with one finger.

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to do a marathon.”

  “We’ll do it when we’re sixteen,” she says. “Write it down.”

  And I do. But I also add “Run a 5K,” which seems much more realistic and is something we can do before we’re teenagers.

  “I think we should all go to prom together,” Mack says. “And in college, we should go on a beach trip over spring break.”

  “I want to see a volcano,” Londyn says. “An active one that’s spewing lava.” She claps her hands together once like an explosion.

  The ideas come faster than I can write. Some are things we can do now, like snowboarding and midnight bowling. Others are things we’ll do when we’re in high school, like dating (not each other!) and nose piercing. And the rest are just someday suggestions. Those are my favorite. I like the idea that sometime in the future, Londyn, Mack, and I will be standing on the Great Wall of China or swimming with sharks (in a very strong cage, of course).

  The waiter comes and takes the bowl away; it’s almost time for zombies. Londyn offers her elbow to Mack, and I hang back to leave the last of my money for a tip. I watch them making their way to the door.

  I don’t have a clue when the world is going to end. Or end as we know it. I’m glad 2010PL7 didn’t destroy it all, but I’m no longer sorry I believed it was going to. If I hadn’t become friends with Londyn or the other kids in Nature Club. I wouldn’t have created a bucket list—or be creating a new one now. I wouldn’t have a mark on my permanent record.

  I guess it really was TEOTWAWKI after all; I’m not the same Eleanor I was last year. One world has ended, and I admit—even though Mack is leaving—I like the new one we’ve created.

  Dear Reader,

  By nature, I’m a worrier. I worry about little things like oversleeping, running out of ice cream, and spelling mistakes. And I worry about big things like global warming, the safety and health of my family, and the lack of empathy in the world. One thing I do not worry about is asteroids. After researching near-Earth objects (NEOs) for this novel, I’m confident there is no imminent risk of global destruction due to a rock from space.

  Earth is continuously battered by tiny particles of space dust—about 100 tons per day. Thankfully, Earth has an atmosphere, which shields us from most of these mini-impacts, unlike the moon, which takes constant hits. Very large objects are tracked by NASA and other space agencies. Scientists can say with certainty that no known asteroid (or other NEO) is predicted to hit Earth in the next one hundred years.

  Still, on occasion, small previously undetected asteroids do crash into Earth, as the Chelyabinsk asteroid did. (See this page for more information.) The damage from such an event is localized and does not cause a global threat or risk of mass extinction. According to NASA, in the period from 1994 to 2013, approximately 550 small asteroids entered Earth’s atmosphere, and most harmlessly burned up before reaching the surface (again, Chelyabinsk being the exception). On the other hand, in 2013 alone, there were 1,595 earthquakes of magnitude 5 or greater worldwide, resulting in over 1,500 deaths. There’s never been a confirmed human fatality due to a meteoroid or asteroid strike.

  So instead of worrying about asteroids, meteroids, or comets, I encourage you to take a scientific approach to astronomy and physics—visit planetariums, read books, check out legitimate websites. If you’d still like a little something to worry about, perhaps stress about a grizzly bear attack? Or an upcoming school project? Or maybe you should just go have a nice bowl of ice cream (kitchen sink–sized, of course).

  Thank you for reading my book,

  IMPACT

  Thanks to its atmosphere, Earth has a natural shield against most impacts. Asteroids, comets, and meteoroids usually burn up on entry. However, throughout Earth’s history, there have been a few large and notable impact events.

  Chicxulub (66 million years ago)

  This is the impact that led to the dinosaur extinction, also known as the K-T extinction, also known as the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction. This asteroid (or possibly a comet), which was at least 9 kilometers (5.6 miles) wide, crashed into modern-day Mexico, creating a crater 180 to 200 kilometers (112 to 125 miles) wide. The impact triggered earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanoes. The shock wave created winds of over 1,000 kilometers (600 miles) per hour. Fiery debris flew into the air, and when it fell back to the ground, it ignited fires around the world. The resulting smoke and dust blocked out the sun, and Earth experienced a global winter. Much of Earth became a harsh and barren landscape, and approximately 75 percent of animals and plants went extinct.

  Chesapeake Bay (35 million years ago)

  A sizable asteroid (or possibly a comet) crashed near modern-day Washington, DC, creating the largest impact crater in the United States. The impact location was a shallow sea. The crash sent billions of tons of debris and water into the atmosphere and created a fifteen-story wave that washed across the land. The asteroid completely vaporized upon impact. Left behind is a crater 90 kilometers (56 miles) wide and 1.9 kilometers (1.2 miles) deep. This impact did not result in a mass extinction event.

  Tunguska (June 30, 1908)

  A little more than 100 years ago, over 700 people witnessed a fireball explode over the Tunguska River in a remote area of Siberia in northern Russia.
Scientists think the meteoroid exploded roughly 5 to 10 kilometers (3 to 6 miles) above Earth. Because of war and difficult terrain, it was almost twenty years before researchers were able to travel to the center of the event. While there was no impact crater, 200 square kilometers (500,000 acres) of forest were flattened from the force of the explosion, and 80 million trees destroyed. The dead pines were found lying in a circle, projecting outward from the center of the blast site. The explosion is thought to have been a thousand times greater than the one created by the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. The meteoroid’s size has been estimated at 50 to 100 meters (150 to 300 feet) wide, but without fragments or an impact crater, it’s difficult to determine.

  Chelyabinsk (February 15, 2013)

  Traveling at over 65,000 kilometers (40,000 miles) per hour when it entered Earth’s atmosphere, this asteroid was captured on video as it streaked over Chelyabinsk, Russia. The space rock, weighing 11,000 tons and measuring 17 to 20 meters (56 to 66 feet) wide, exploded 22.5 kilometers (14 miles) above Earth’s surface. Fragments were discovered 80 kilometers (50 miles) north, at the bottom of frozen Lake Chebarkul, including a 650-kilogram (1,400-pound) chunk. While the asteroid did not create an impact crater, the shock wave damaged roofs, shook buildings, and shattered glass across an area of 518 square kilometers (200 square miles). Over 1,600 people were injured, mostly from broken glass. (Since light travels faster than sound, people witnessed a flash outside and ran to their windows to get a better look. The sound wave came next and shattered the windowpanes.) Scientists say the meteorites from this event are approximately 4.5 billion years old—nearly as old as our solar system.

  DEFINITIONS

  asteroid: a rocky object (metallic and nonmetallic) that orbits the sun and can range in size from 530 kilometers (329 miles) to less than 10 meters (33 feet) across