CHAPTER 3

TOO BAD—IT’S STILL FRIDAY

Outside, Gina could hear the slap-slap of a jump rope.

Inside, she heard voices. “SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS SPACESHIP!” someone shouted.

That was Mitchell.

“He must be reading part of the play,” Destiny said.

“A nice loud voice,” Madam Ballantine said.

Gina peered through the crack in the door. “Do you think Mrs. Farelli forgot about us?”

The gym door opened.

Mrs. Farelli came out. She kept going down the hall.

A moment later, she was gone.

“Maybe she’s going home,” Destiny said. “I guess we’ll be here all night.”

“With nothing to eat?” Gina asked. Her mother would be sad. Mom wanted her to have good healthy food.

“Maybe they turn off the heat at night,” Destiny said. “We may freeze.”

Gina held on to Grandma Maroni’s pearls. She could see blocks of ice in the hall. Icicles on the ceiling!

“There’s something worse,” Destiny said. “Today is Friday. We may be here for the whole weekend.”

Gina opened her mouth. A sound came out.

“Are you going to cry like a hyena?” Destiny asked.

Gina snapped her mouth shut. The hyena was trapped inside her throat.

In the auditorium, Mitchell was yelling again. “WATCH OUT! THE SPACESHIP IS GOING TO CRASH!”

“Bloop. Bloop. Bloop,” said Peter.

“Wow,” said Madam Ballantine.

“I guess that’s the spaceship crashing.” Destiny stood up. “I’m going in there.”

“You can’t do that,” Gina said.

“Mrs. Farelli wouldn’t want us to freeze to death. I think she just forgot about us.” Destiny banged open the auditorium door.

She went inside.

Gina thought about going inside, too. But suppose Mrs. Farelli came back?

She put her head against the wall.

Tonight her mother was making turkey with stuffing.

No dinner for her.

And bedtime was nine o’clock.

Would she still be here? Sleeping on the hall floor like a frozen ant?

“I WILL SAVE YOU,” someone said in a loud voice.

Thank goodness, Gina thought. Then she realized. It was Destiny. She was trying to be the star.

Poor Grandma Maroni. Poor Aunt Suki and Uncle Tony. Poor meat man at Stop & Shop. What would they think if they heard Gina wasn’t a star?

She yanked on the pearls.

Snap!

They flew all over the place.

The hyena was escaping from her throat. She couldn’t stop it.

She began to cry.

Someone opened the auditorium door. It was Clifton, a kindergarten kid. “You sound like a—” he began.

Gina gulped. She hoped he wouldn’t say hyena.

He didn’t. “You sound like a sad girl,” he said.

That made her cry even louder.

Jake the Sweeper popped his head around the stairs. He swept some pearls toward her. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Now everyone came out of the auditorium. They crowded around her.

Gina squinched her eyes shut.

“What’s this?” a soft voice asked.

She opened her eyes again.

The used-to-be-famous actress was staring at her.

Gina knew she was a mess. Her hair was gooey. She looked down. Her shirt had … not a hippo, not a rhino, but—

A pair of elephants.

How had that happened?

“Perfect,” the used-to-be-famous actress said.

Gina wiped her eyes.

“You can be a poor lost alien in the play,” the actress said.

Gina stood up. “Is that the star?”

The actress shook her head. “No, but it would be a lovely part. All you’d have to do is cry.”

“Not the star?” Gina said.

“Well—” said Madam Ballantine.

“I’ll be the star,” said Destiny.

“What about me?” Beebe said.

Mrs. Farelli came along the hall. “What is all this commotion?”

“I don’t want to stay out here forever,” Gina told her.

“I forgot.” Mrs. Farelli slapped her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

Whew!

Outside, Ramón, the college helper, blew his whistle. “Time to get on the bus,” he said.

“Hurry,” Madam Ballantine said. “See you on Tuesday.”

Gina stopped to pick up some of the pearls. She put them in her pocket. Poor Grandma Maroni. What would she say?

But Grandpa Maroni could fix anything.

Maybe he could even fix the necklace.

She raced up the stairs. She’d have turkey with stuffing for supper. She’d sleep in her own bed.

She waved goodbye to Mrs. Farelli and to Madam Ballantine.

She’d worry about being a crybaby alien next week.