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Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. Acknowledgments
  62. About the Author
  63. Books by Bobbie Pyron
  64. Back Ads
  65. About the Publisher

I slide my backpack from under the cot. I unzip it as quietly as I can. When we had to leave Cyprus Point, Mama said all we could take were our favorite clothes—those went in one of the big suitcases—and a few things that mean the most and could fit in our backpacks. Dylan, of course, filled his little backpack with plastic superheroes and his favorite Plush Pocket Pets. She said once we got settled somewhere new, we’d get everything we needed and more. So far, that hasn’t happened.

I feel my way to the bottom of my pack, past my shell identification guide, my dog-eared copy of My Side of the Mountain, a Band-Aid box with saved-up allowance money ($22.60), an envelope with photos of my grandma Bess (before she died) and my best friends, and past my little stuffed dog, Beans, until my fingers touch a rolled-up piece of cloth. Gently, I slide it out. My Firefly Girls sash.

I unroll the sash. The electric-blue background and yellow and white dots looks like the Milky Way.

I touch each of the pins and badges: Animal Lives, Drawing, Independence (not hard to earn when both your parents work), Cooking (my specialty is macaroni and cheese), First Aid (comes in handy when you have a little brother), Reading, and my favorite: Gourmet Brownie CEO. Mama says selling brownies is my superpower.

I remember how proud I felt every time I earned a new badge or pin. Daddy gave me three dollars whenever I earned one, and Grandma Bess gave me a dollar. The money was nice, but mostly, I just loved that feeling of being good at something. Sometimes our family was a little bit like a roller coaster, what with jobs that came and went and Dylan’s asthma, and taking care of Grandma Bess before she passed, and always, always worrying about money. But these badges, they were mine. They showed what I could do. At least before Daddy and Mama lost their jobs and we found ourselves without a home.

Dylan coughs. Mama murmurs something in her sleep.

Carefully, I roll up the sash and slide it back into my pack. I climb into bed and burrow under the covers.

I blink back tears, remembering my goal of earning two more badges by the end of the year. It seemed so possible then. Now it doesn’t.

Then I remember: the flyer stapled to a pole announcing a Firefly Girls meeting. What troop was it? Did it say when they would meet, and where? Hope flickers in my heart like a firefly on a summer night.

But now look where I am, who I am. How can I ever be part of a Firefly troop when I live in a homeless shelter?

15

Stay

Later, much later

Baby knows

deep in his bones

everything is wrong.

Jewel shivers and shakes

but her body is hot.

Jewel sleeps but does not rest.