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something in Wilmington, but the stiffness in her voice
made me not believe her. I think she just wanted some time
alone.
I finish my milk. Mr. Arthur doesn’t even mention that
milk is Delaware’s state beverage the way he does practically
every night. Like my mom and me, he chews quietly, then
excuses himself from the table and disappears.
Up in my room, my head feels like cotton candy. I don’t
know what to think. My emotions are on overload. So, I
decide to focus on the one thing in my life that makes perfect
sense: the Perry Plan. Now I know exactly what I have
to do.
It’s lunchtime at school, and the library is deserted. Except,
of course, for Walter Maynard, who’s online researching
nuclear waste disposal for an extra-credit report. I know this
because I sit next to him at the computer bank and he tells
me about it while he stares straight at my boobs. Not that
I’m wearing my Sharpie bra anymore. But that’s not stopping
Walter.
“Yucca Mountain can only hold the waste for ten thousand
years,” he says, eyes shifting from one boob to the
other. “What then?”
I cross my arms, face the computer screen, and say, “I
can’t worry about that now, Walter.”
“If we don’t worry now, who ever will?”
He has a point. Still, I have work to do. And no way can
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