The World Ends in April

by Stacy McAnulty

  “You wanted something—anything—to keep Mack from leaving.”

  What I want is to cover my ears and to scream, so I don’t have to listen to this. “I don’t want it to happen,” I tell her. “But we can’t avoid it.”

  “Stop!” She shakes her head and bites her lower lip. She won’t look at me. I follow her eyes to the computer screen. The countdown is gone.

  SITE NOT FOUND

  “It’s over,” she whispers.

  “The website just crashed because so many people are on it. It’s happened before.” I don’t admit that it’s not the same error message. There’s no cute little robot holding a maintenance sign: We’re temporarily unavailable. Sorry for the inconvenience.

  “It’s not happening, Eleanor.” She looks sad and determined at the same time. “Deal with it. We’re stuck in the world as we know it.”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  She offers me her hands and pulls me up. We stand eye to eye.

  “It’s going to suck going back to school.” She wipes her cheek and laughs. “But then, a lot of things suck.”

  “Please don’t go.”

  But she turns and leaves. When she gets to the top of the stairs, she yells back, “See ya Monday, Norie.”

  And I’m all alone. Maybe forever.

  For the rest of the day, I stare at the computer screen and wait for the world to explode. It doesn’t. At midnight, I finally get a call from Mack.

  “Dude, are you okay?”

  I’m tempted not to speak. He went silent for over twenty-four hours. He didn’t believe Dr. Cologne. He didn’t believe me.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar.”

  “I don’t know what happened.” I mean this on every level. I don’t know why I trusted Dr. Cologne. I don’t know how things got so out of control. I don’t understand why people thought that I knew anything. I know nothing.

  “You sure made an impact. Pun intended. Half the school was absent today.”

  “But you went.” I sniff hard.

  “My parents made me,” he replies quickly.

  “I’m tired, Mack. I don’t want to talk right now.” I close my eyes. “But I need to ask you one question, and for you to be honest with me. Are you going to the Conrad School next year?”

  Seconds tick by before he answers.

  “Yes.”

  I don’t hang up on him, but I get off as quickly as I can and turn off my phone.

  Then I lie back on my sleeping bag and try not to cry.

  I fail.

  “I want to stay home again,” Edward says on the morning of April 8. “Why doesn’t Eleanor have to go to school?” He takes a spoonful of cereal, and milk dribbles down his chin.

  “Because she got suspended,” Phillip answers.

  “What does that mean?”

  “She broke the rules, and they won’t let her come back.”

  I roll my eyes and push my eggs around my plate.

  “Enough. Brush your teeth, boys. We’re leaving in five minutes.” Dad shoos them out of the kitchen.

  “Not fair!” Edward shouts from the hallway.

  Dad leans on the table and tries to get me to meet his eyes. “I have a meeting this morning, but I’ll be home by lunchtime.”

  “I’m fine,” I say. Neither of us believes me.

  “I’ll be home by lunch,” he says again.

  Dad and the boys leave like it’s a typical Wednesday. And it is for them. I’m home alone with Bubbles and my cell and a world that will never end.

  I turned my phone back on when I woke up, and it blew up with messages. None of them nice. Kids calling me loser and liar and worse. Dominic says he’s going to fail seventh grade because of me. Jade claims I ruined her reputation. Brent wants to know if I got the date wrong.

  In my room, I open my computer again and try to reload Dr. Cologne’s site.

  SITE NOT FOUND

  I send an email.

  Dr. Cologne,

  I’m confused. Why did you do this?

  E.J.D.

  I don’t expect a reply. Ever!

  As promised, Dad comes home at lunchtime. He’s carrying three sandwiches because Grandpa Joe joins us. We sit around the kitchen table. I mostly nod as they tell me everything will be okay.

  “You’ll be fine,” Grandpa Joe says. “You’re a Dross. You’re a survivor.” He puts a gentle hand on my arm, and I shrug it off.

  “Did you ever actually believe?” I stare at my sandwich.

  “Sure,” he says. “I thought it was possible.”

  “Anything is possible. I want to know if you ever really believed Dr. Cologne.” I meet his eyes for just a second.

  “At my age, you tend to be a bit skeptical about everything. You’ll see.”

  “I wasn’t skeptical, and I didn’t know you were skeptical. Not until two days ago. You bought me the supplies. You gave me the book. I thought you believed it all.” I rub my eyes with the back of my thumb.

  Dad lets out a loud breath.

  “I got carried away,” Grandpa Joe says. “I liked that you were interested in prepping and survival again, and in your old grandpa. I didn’t think it hurt any to play along.”

  “Play along?” My voice breaks. “I wasn’t playing.”

  “I know that now.” His eyes look glassy, and I turn away. “Eleanor, I’m sorry. I wish I handled things differently. I should have listened to your daddy. Maybe we could have put a stop to all this before…” His voice trails off.

  Before what? Before I went crazy. Before I drove away my friends. Before I became the joke of Hamilton Middle.

  “I’m just really sorry, sweetheart.” Grandpa Joe gets up from the table. He places a hand on my back and leans down to kiss the top of my head.

  I don’t move. I don’t talk.

  He sniffs loudly. “I’m going to head home now.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Dad says. The moment they step foot into the hallway, I hear my dad reassure his dad that everything will be okay. And Grandpa Joe mumbles that he’s sorry again. Then the front door opens and closes, and I’m cut off from their conversation. I wish I could still hear, because I need to know how everything could possibly ever be okay again.

  I toss Bubbles what is left of my sandwich. Then I curl up on the couch and basically stay there until the next week.

  * * *

  • • •

  On Monday, Dad drives me to school. He wants to follow me in, but I won’t let him.

  Walking through the halls today is worse than on the first day of sixth grade. Everyone stares at me. Some whisper. Some make sure I hear what they’re saying.

  “That’s the girl who said the world was ending.”

  A few eighth-grade boys throw balled-up pieces of paper.

  “Watch out for impact!”

  Jade and Izabell surprise me at my locker. I force a smile. For a second, I feel like I can breathe. But Jade’s eyes narrow.

  “I can’t believe I listened to you,” Jade says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I stood up for you after you were on the morning announcements.” Izabell squeezes a notebook to her chest. “I swore on my life that you were telling the truth.”

  “Sorry. I thought I was telling the truth.” I sniff.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” Jade says.

  “Me too. I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. I’m about to walk away when Londyn appears.

  “Hey, girls.” She flashes a quick smile. “Give Norie a break. Okay? We’ve had a tough week. Suspension. Huge disappointments. Like asteroid-sized disappointments.”

  “Come on, Iz. We have to get to homeroom.” Jade pulls her friend down the hall.

  Londyn lets out a loud puff of air. “Wel
l gee, isn’t today going to be fun?” She smirks. “I’ll see you at lunch. If we survive that long.”

  When Mrs. Walsh calls my name in the hall, I pretend not to hear her, keeping my eyes focused on the floor. But in her class, I’m cornered. I tell her everything is fine and force a wide smile to prove my lie. Then I give her back the book she lent me.

  “Eleanor, I’m sorry,” she says. “I feel like science let you down.”

  I shrug. “Well, one scientist did.”

  At lunch, a backpack sits in my usual spot and Londyn is missing. I silently stand next to the table, and Ajay, Dominic, and Spencer have a loud conversation about a video game and purposely avoid looking in my direction. The message is clear. I’m not welcome.

  Mack is busy setting out his organic food and probably doesn’t realize I’m here. He’ll be gone—for real—soon enough.

  I turn to leave, and Spencer calls out with disgust, “Farewell, Madame President.”

  “Elle?” Mack’s head snaps up. “Elle?”

  I say nothing and walk toward the cafeteria exit.

  A second later, Candy’s tapping the floor.

  “Elle? Where you going?” he asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wait for me,” he says.

  “Why?” I stop, and Candy knocks into the back of my foot.

  “I can’t go into the girls’ bathroom, but if you’re going to the media center I can—”

  “No!” I cut him off. “You’re leaving anyway. Do it now. Why wait?”

  “Me going to a new school isn’t about leaving you.” He holds out his hand, wanting me to take it. I don’t. “Saying goodbye to you will be the worst part. You’re the main reason I think about not going.”

  I suck in a breath. “You said you are going.”

  “I am,” he says softly. “But I think about staying too. Staying here with you. Dude, this is a hard choice.”

  But it is a choice.

  “Come eat lunch with us.” He turns like he’s about to head back, but he waits on me.

  “They don’t want me there.”

  “Elle, I’ll talk to them, and if they don’t listen, I’ll rough ’em up.” He lifts Candy as if he’s going to swing it like a weapon.

  “No thanks.”

  “Then we’ll sit somewhere else or go somewhere else. I don’t want you to be alone, Elle. Not now or ever.”

  “Just stop! Stop being nice, okay? It would be easier for me if we had a big fight and hated each other.” I take a step back and look at the exit.

  “I guess we could, if that’s what you want.” He tries to keep his face serious, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. “Do you want me to insult you? Throw some shade?”

  “Yes. Do it.”

  “Um.” He twists Candy. “You’re stubborn and bad at Xbox.”

  I groan.

  “You never offer me your pudding cup at lunch. That’s selfish.”

  “You don’t like pudding,” I say.

  “I like pudding sometimes.” He pauses and then sighs. “That’s a lie. I don’t like pudding. Ever.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, I got it.” He stands up straighter. “I hear you have a really bad haircut.”

  I cover my mouth to stop a laugh. “It’s growing out. And it’s not blue anymore. So…”

  “Dang. This is hard. Do you want to insult me instead?” he asks.

  “No. I guess we’re not meant to have a big fight. What do we do now?”

  A class of sixth graders walk into the cafeteria and pass between Mack and me. We wait for them to move away.

  “I guess we’ll just have to stay friends.” He holds out his hand again, and this time I take it. He squeezes my fingers. I still hate that he’s leaving, but I have some time to get used to it.

  “We should go find Londyn,” I say.

  “Good idea.”

  Since students aren’t allowed to wander the school, she can only be in a few places. We catch up with her in the girls’ locker room. Mack sneaks in once I assure him the coast is clear. Her face is red and blotchy, but she smiles when she sees us.

  “Mondays are the worst,” she says.

  I take a seat next to her on the bench. “Do you think Tuesdays will be any better?”

  She throws an arm over my shoulder and gives me a quick squeeze. “Maybe in the year 2080.”

  Dad brings home Chinese food for dinner on Friday. Phillip and Edward eat mountains of fried rice and heaps of sweet-and-sour chicken. I pick at an egg roll.

  Edward gives us endless details about recess, and Phillip talks about some reading contest his media specialist has set up. Dad listens and asks questions, but he keeps glancing at me.

  I say nothing.

  When we’re done, the boys clear their spots. I give my egg roll to Bubbles—she gets a lot of table food since the non-impact started messing with my appetite. Dad waits until Phillip and Edward are out of the kitchen before he says anything.

  “How was your day?”

  “Fine.” I put my plate in the dishwasher and walk toward the stairs, knowing he’s going to stop me.

  “Eleanor, you’ve been saying you’re fine all week. But you don’t act fine and you don’t look fine,” he says. “I have to assume it’s been one of the worst weeks.”

  I nod because I can’t speak.

  Dad walks over and wraps me in a tight hug. I squeeze my eyes shut and tears roll out.

  “I should have listened to you,” I mumble into his shirt. “I’m sorry. You were right. I was stupid.”

  “Shh.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “I’m so stupid.”

  He releases me and steps backs. “Don’t say that.”

  “But I—”

  “You were wrong.” He waits until I look up. “That’s all. You were wrong about something. And unfortunately, all your friends and classmates were witnesses to your mistake. The question is, did you learn anything from this?”

  “Yeah. Dr. Cologne is a quack. He deserved to be fired from Harvard.” I wipe my nose with my sleeve.

  Dad chuckles. “Yes. But there’s always going to be Dr. Colognes.”

  “I guess.” I’m never going to trust anyone on the internet again.

  “Eleanor, I know you’re not going to believe me, but things will get better. This week was a lousy week. Now it’s behind you. Next week will be a fraction better.”

  I nod to make him happy, but I don’t buy it.

  “If things don’t improve, you need to tell me. I don’t want every day to be the worst. You are not alone in this. Okay?”

  I nod again.

  “Promise me,” he says.

  My brain is telling my mouth to say I promise, but different words slip out instead. “Mack’s leaving me!”

  Dad cocks his head like he doesn’t understand.

  “He’s going to a different school next year.” I try to explain. “I don’t want him to leave. He can’t. It’s not fair.”

  Dad doesn’t say anything because there’s no way to fix this. He’s not about to let me drop out of school.

  It takes me a few minutes to stop crying. Dad gives me another hug.

  “Can I go upstairs now?” I ask.

  “Sure. But I’m here if you need me.”

  My computer sits on my nightstand. I hit refresh on Dr. Cologne’s website. It’s still down. I wonder if he’s in his bunker somewhere without Wi-Fi. Or is he hanging out with friends, laughing at those who believed him?

  Ten days ago, I thought time was running out. Now it looks to go on forever, and I have nothing to fill that space. I’m tired of being alone with my thoughts. I’m tired of sitting on my bed and scrolling through the internet. There do not appear to be any other looming disaster
s—I’ve checked. After watching two hours of YouTube preppers, I just want to scream at them, “You don’t know what’s going to happen!”

  I want to be done with it. All of it! Then I realize I can be.

  With the stroke of a single key, I start deleting the emails. Next, I erase the website from my internet history. I throw out my notebook with the dinosaurs on the cover. I find a few printed newsletters in my backpack, take them downstairs, and shred them. Now that I’ve started, it’s like I can’t get rid of things fast enough. I’m ready to throw out my bug-out bag and clear out the basement, but I need permission.

  I find Dad reading in his room.

  “Can you help me?” I hold out my BOB.

  His face falls.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not getting ready for the end of the world.” I scratch the back of my head. “I want this all behind me.”

  “Happy to help,” he says.

  Bubbles follows us to the basement, where Dad and I pack up most of the supplies Grandpa Joe gave me. We keep one water filter, some freeze-dried food, and the flashlights. Just the normal stuff that’s recommended for a hurricane-preparedness kit. The rest we carry out to the minivan.

  I write a note and stick it to the top of a box.

  Grandpa Joe,

  I don’t need this stuff anymore. It’s not for me. I don’t want to be a prepper. But I wouldn’t mind going camping. What do you say? Just no MREs. We’ll eat hot dogs and s’mores.

  Love,

  Eleanor

  “I’ll bring this to your grandfather tomorrow,” Dad says.

  I nod. “Thanks. But be nice about it, okay? This wasn’t his fault.”

  Dad raises his eyebrows. “I know. But he still had an influence.”

  “He just wanted to be helpful.” I shrug. “And he wanted to keep the people he loves safe.”

  “I could say the same thing about you.” Dad squeezes my shoulder.

  Back upstairs, I unclasp my paracord bracelet and place it in the jewelry box on my dresser. Then I let out a big breath.

  “Feels different, huh?” I ask Bubbles, who doesn’t bother to answer. “Feels good.”