“Today,” says a gentle, melodic voice over a speaker, “we’re going to visit the moon and take a quick trip to the edges of our solar system.” The woman’s soothing, sleepy voice tells everyone to turn off their cell phones—even though we weren’t supposed to have them. I pat my sweatshirt pocket to make sure mine is still hidden there. “Where we’re going, our phones won’t work anyway.” Then she tells us more rules like not talking or kicking the seat in front of us.

“Some people get dizzy during our adventure. If that happens to you, just close your eyes. You should feel better soon. If not, follow the aisles marked with red lights to exit the auditorium.”

It’s too dark to find Mattie, but I hope she realizes that we have a perfect excuse now for sneaking out. As I’m thinking about what’s coming next, the stars above start moving. Or are we moving? As they turn, the edge of the ceiling gets brighter. I can make out the silhouette of trees and a couple houses. Then an orange glow.

“Sunrise,” the voice says. The orange glow fades again. “Then sunset. As the earth spins on its axis, the glow of the sun sinks over the horizon, giving way to other celestial sights. First we see the brightest star, the planet Jupiter, slip above the tree line.”

Little by little, more stars appear.

“There’s Venus. Saturn. Mercury. The planets.”

Each time she names one, it twinkles brighter for a moment so we can see which one she’s talking about. I remember seeing the star winking at me from my bedroom window. I get that sticky feeling again. Then the music changes rhythm. “We’ll be traveling at the speed of light to take a detour to the outer edges of our solar system.” Suddenly the pinpricks of stars morph into streaks of bright light. The room spins and twirls. The music pulses in my ears, knocking, trying to enter my brain. The lights glow brighter and brighter. The lines spin. I squeeze my eyes shut. The woman said I would feel better if I closed my eyes. Well, she was wrong. The music is swelling and swirling, making me feel like I’m the only person in the universe. An awful feeling of loneliness claws at my throat. I open one eye. My stomach bounces. I shut it again. Now I’m even more dizzy. I open my eyes. Lights flash. Close my eyes. Open. I peek at the floor and find the red glow of the aisle.

I have to get out of here.

CHAPTER 23 Mattie