This Place Has No Atmosphere by Paula Danziger Page A

nervous trying out for the play,” Starr says. “Waiting to find out who’s got which part is even worse.”
    I smile at her. “Don’t worry. I bet you’ll get a part.”
    “That’s what I’m nervous about.” Starr crosses her eyes. “How did you ever convince me to audition?”
    “
How
was a cinch. I told you that Tucker was trying out too. The reason
why
is that I’m sure you’ll get a small part and it’ll be fun, something different from working with computers. I helped you prepare for the audition and I’ll help you when you’re in the play.”
    “Sometimes you can be terrific.” Starr smiles at me.
    I smile back.
    We continue to walk along the street. Everything is so drab—gray dust, ugly black buildings. The weather’s so nothing. I remember the days on earth where sometimes it would rain, or snow, or be sunny . . .  never be quite the same . . . and you could wear different types of clothes depending on the weather.
    The only time I get wet unexpectedly on the moon is when one of the Eaglettes drools or does worse.
    This town is really boring to look at. None of the buildings is taller than five stories. Most of them are covered with lunar dust. The paths are concrete. Outside of the greenhouse and Tranquillity Park, there are no trees, plants, or flowers.
    Once you get out of the center of town, there are the industrial sections. There’s no reason to go there unless you’re industrial (not necessarily industrious), and even if you do go there’s not much to do unless you are a worker.
    It’s not fair. I know that this place was designed to be a way station to Mars, which is being designed to be a beautiful place to go in the future. But they could have done something to spruce up the moon. I don’t think it’s fair not to just because it will costa little bit more of the taxpayer’s money and will use some of the energy for “nonessentials.” What else are they going to spend the money on? A little more color and style shouldn’t cost that much. One nuclear bomb would be much more expensive, and they’re always buying a new one of those on earth.
    I wish they’d think about those of us who have to live here and aren’t industrial. We should have rights too.
    It’s a good thing we’re doing the play up here. That’ll lighten things up. It’ll definitely turn Bored Way into Broadway.
    Starr tugs on my tunic. “Are you nervous?”
    “About what?”
    “About Mr. Wilcox announcing who has what part.”
    I think about how he had me read for several parts and how he said “Aurora Williams, I am very impressed.”
    I smile at Starr. “No. I’m just really excited to be able to be in the play. And I can’t wait to be Emily—to play her from teenage to grown-up. It’ll be great.”
    “I hope I’m one of the townspeople who have nothing to say.” Starr crosses her fingers.
    “You’ll do fine.” I feel more excited than I have since we got here.
    As we walk into the classroom, there’s a crowd of people around the bulletin board.
    “Congratulations on getting a major role,” one of the kids says to me.
    I grab Starr’s hand and rush up to the bulletin board to check out the results.
    Barfburger’s standing in front of the board.
    “Excuse me.” I tap him on the shoulder.
    He smiles at me and moves away.
    I look at the cast list.
    Karlena’s Emily.
    I’m Mrs. Gibbs.
    Barfburger is Dr. Gibbs.
    I wish I were dead.
    Life just isn’t fair.

CHAPTER 25
    I will not let anyone see me cry.
    I will not let my tears go any further than the corners of my eyes.
    “Oh, no,” Starr says. “I have a real part. I’m Rebecca Gibbs.”
    Great. My little sister will be playing my daughter. Mr. Wilcox must have decided that it was all relative who got which parts.
    Mr. Wilcox must have lost his sanity.
    Karlena doesn’t even want to be an actress. When she graduates, she just wants to get married to her boyfriend, Kael, and live happily ever after.
    I don’t understand Mr.