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“My mom used to say that if you found a ladybug, it meant good luck was coming your way,” Scarlett explained, ruffling Lyssa’s hair. “And I have a feeling you’re going to be pretty lucky for me. Hey, you don’t have one of those demo CDs with you now, do you?”

“Well, I do, but…” Lyssa pulled off her backpack and shuffled around inside, pushing aside sandwich bags filled with granola crumbs and a few handfuls of spilled seeds until she found her demo—the last one she had with her. Nervously, she handed it over to Scarlett. “But it’s not very…”

Scarlett didn’t seem to be listening. She grabbed the CD and bounced out of her seat

“I have a great idea,” she said. Before Lyssa could say a word, Scarlett raced down the bus aisle. Lyssa followed, careening into the people still sitting in their seats. By the time she reached the front of the bus, Scarlett had the CD out
of the case and was talking to the bus driver—the girl with spiky black hair and star tattoos running up the side of her face

“Lyssa, this is Euma,” Scarlett said. “She has a CD player we can use.”

Euma lifted a hand from the steering wheel and waved at Lyssa without taking her eyes off the road

“Hello,” she said. Her voice was tinted with a British accent that made the word sound like “allo.”

“This is what we’re going to do,” Scarlett explained. “Euma and I are going to listen to your CD and give you some pointers. That way you’ll be prepared for the show. Euma’s a performer, like us. She does slam poetry and spoken word performances.”

Lyssa glanced down the aisle at the rest of the people on the bus. “They won’t hear?”

“Are you kidding?” Euma said, her accent making her words crisp and light. “This bus is so loud they can barely hear the people sitting next to them. You’ll be fine.”

Lyssa took a deep breath, then nodded. Scarlett inserted her CD into the player sitting on the bus’s dashboard

A second later, Lyssa’s voice blasted throughout the entire bus

“Hi, y’all. My name is Lyssa Lee and I’m here to sing some songs for you.”

A few people started to cheer and whoop—one even catcalled. Lyssa’s knees went weak. She threw both hands over her mouth

An anxious crease drew itself between Scarlett’s eyebrows. She dropped to her knees and started fumbling with the CD player

“The play button’s jammed,” she muttered. “I can’t get it to stop. I thought you said this wasn’t connected to the bus’s sound system, Euma.”

“The bus doesn’t
have
a sound system,” Euma said, looking just as bewildered.

Lyssa looked up at the bus’s ceiling. There were no wires, no speakers, nothing that could possibly play her CD. Yet her voice floated above the other riders, crooning out the words to her favorite Athena song, “Tricks.” It was like the bus itself was singing, like the funky painted ceiling and flowery fabric-covered seats had found their voice

Lyssa buried her face in her hands. It felt like a wildfire was sweeping over her face, she was blushing so badly

But, after a few seconds of listening, the humiliation faded—just a little bit. Lyssa realized she didn’t sound so bad. Her voice was clear and strong and she was perfectly on key

“I know your tricks, I know, I know…”
she sang over the speakers.

Lyssa lowered her hands from her face and saw that people were actually
listening
. They nodded along with the sound of her voice, smiling. Someone started singing along and before Lyssa knew what was happening, everyone on the bus was singing with her. They all seemed to know the words. As the song reached the final verse, Lyssa’s voice soared higher and higher, hitting the same difficult high note Athena always hit. The people on the bus cheered!

“Wow,” Euma said, running a hand through her spiky black hair. “That was killer.”

“Thanks,” Lyssa said. She felt a little dazed

“Have you ever taken singing lessons?” Euma asked

Lyssa shook her head. “I learned everything I know from my mom.”

“Your mom was Ana Lee, right?” Euma asked

Lyssa nodded

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you should think about taking some voice lessons,” Euma said. “You’re really good, but you could be amazing. You don’t want to just stop learning, right?”

Lyssa glanced from Euma to Scarlett. Scarlett was twirling a strand of blond hair around her finger and beaming down at Lyssa. She was the only person on the bus who hadn’t sung along. Lyssa wondered why

“What do you think?” Lyssa asked her

“Euma’s right,” Scarlett agreed. “You’re going to be a great singer—with a little work, you could go all the way.”

Euma looked away from the road for just a second to give Lyssa a shy smile

“I really feel like I found myself in my first writing class,” she said. “It was an amazing experience.”

Lyssa chewed on her lower lip, thinking about that school Michael had enrolled her in. She’d been so excited to start at first, but she’d let her fear grow and grow as the first day approached, until she was dreading it—just like she’d let her fear make her think she wasn’t cut out to be a performer. Maybe the school thing really was a good idea. They probably even had singing classes.

She stared out the window, watching the last of the hot-air balloons drift into the clouds and thinking…

T
he ride from New Mexico to Austin was long and gave Lyssa plenty of time to get to know the rest of Scarlett’s friends. They reminded Lyssa of the Lotus Crew, except they were actually
doing
things.

First she met Igor, who liked to knit scarves and mittens and sell them online, and Carolina, his girlfriend, who was a vegan chef in Albuquerque. They both had shaggy brown hair and wore funky knit hats even though it was eighty degrees outside. Lyssa spent a long time talking to them about how to make the perfect peanut butter and banana brownies. Lyssa pulled out her journal and jotted the recipe down. Maybe she and Penn could make those
together—when Lyssa got to Austin

Then Lyssa met Varsha, a beautiful Indian flutist who was practicing in the very back of the bus. She invited Lyssa to play with her, so Lyssa dug around in her backpack for her mom’s other maraca. But when she pulled it out, there was a huge rip down the side and half the tomato seeds were already gone, lost somewhere along her journey. Lyssa ran her thumbnail over the rip, wondering where all of her mom’s seeds were by now

“That can be fixed,” Varsha said when Lyssa gave the maraca a sad shake, spilling a few tomato seeds onto the seat between them

Varsha pulled a stick of watermelon-kiwi gum out of her pocket and made Lyssa chew. When the gum was good and sticky, she had Lyssa plug it into the rip, sealing the maraca shut. There weren’t as many seeds left over, but the maraca still sounded great when Lyssa shook it. She played along with Varsha’s flute as the bus rumbled toward the hills in the distance

When Lyssa woke up, it was late afternoon and she was leaning against Scarlett’s shoulder. A small pool of drool had collected on the faux fur collar of Scarlett’s jacket. The sun was just peeking over the distant hills, turning the whole world greenish gold.

“Time to get up, Ladybug,” Scarlett said. Lyssa sat up and wiped her drool away from the side of her mouth. She pulled her sweatshirt down over her palm. Scarlett leaned over and gave one of Lyssa’s braids a gentle tug

“Are we stopped?” Lyssa asked groggily

“We’re not stopped,” Scarlett said. “We’re here.”

Lyssa pressed her face to the bus window. Afternoon sunlight danced over the grass, but once Lyssa’s eyes adjusted, her heart began to beat against her chest like a jackhammer.

There was Mrs. Henderson’s backyard, with the inflatable pool that was always half filled with water and dried leaves. And just across the street were the pink blossoms on Mr. Tanaka’s cherry trees, which he had specially imported to Texas from Japan. And right next door was Penn’s house, with its stained glass windows and mailbox shaped like a bullfrog.

Lyssa was home!

She leapt from her seat, so excited that she tripped over her own shoelace as she started down the bus aisle. Scarlett grabbed her arm to steady her so that she didn’t land face-first on the sticky bus floor

“Come on!” Lyssa shouted. She was home. She was
home
.

The corner of Scarlett’s mouth hitched up into a sad smile

“This is where we drop you,” she said

Lyssa shook her head, confused. “Wait, what? Drop me?”

“We have some things to do, Ladybug…” Scarlett paused, biting her lip. “And I’m not sure I can face a whole crowd of people just yet.”

“But…” Lyssa knew she was being childish, but she couldn’t imagine singing onstage without Scarlett and her friends in the audience. She searched for a compromise. “Promise me that you’ll come if you change your mind?”

“I promise.” Scarlett crouched down so she was Lyssa’s height and could look her in the eye. “You know what? This isn’t goodbye. You and I, we’re going to see each other again real soon.”

Lyssa nodded. Her throat felt thick, like it was slathered in honey and peanut butter, and she wasn’t sure she could say a word without bursting into tears. She shifted her eyes away from Scarlett and dug what was left of her scooter out from under her seat

When she looked back up, Scarlett was staring out the window, her jaw clenched like she might burst into tears. Unable to help herself, Lyssa threw her arms around Scarlett’s neck

“Thank you so much,” she whispered into Scarlett’s ear

“You remember what I said about your performance,” Scarlett whispered back to Lyssa. “You sing for the muse, not anybody else.”

“And the muse comes from within,” Lyssa said. She pulled away, quickly swiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand before Scarlett could see it

Scarlett smiled at her. “Good luck.”

As Lyssa ran down the bus, everyone waved and smiled, calling out words of encouragement

“Sing your tongue off,” Euma yelled

“You work those maracas, girl,” Varsha called, blowing Lyssa a kiss

How was she supposed to say goodbye to people who’d become such good friends in such a short stretch of time? She couldn’t. She had to think of this like Scarlett did—it wasn’t goodbye. They’d all see each other again

Lyssa leapt down to the sidewalk, pushing all the tears and thoughts of goodbye out of her head. Penn’s house was less than a block away. The thought of seeing Penn filled Lyssa with jittery excitement, like someone was cooking popcorn inside her chest. She was finally standing on the same block as her best friend

As the school bus pulled away, Lyssa ducked beneath Penn’s living room windows and snuck into the backyard. Neither she nor Penn had ever waited for each other on
the front porch or rung the doorbell. They had their own system

Lyssa darted across Penn’s neatly mowed yard, gathering dewy wetness on the toes of her sneakers. On the far side of the yard was a huge, twisty tree that she and Penn named the Grandfather Oak because it was so knobby and gnarly they were certain it had to be one hundred years old. Penn’s dad had built her a tree house in the Grandfather Oak, and she and Lyssa had made it their secret clubhouse when they were younger. Lyssa grabbed the rope ladder hanging from a thick branch and scurried up the tree like she’d done one million times before, loving the scratchy, familiar feel of the rope beneath her fingers. When she reached the top, she flipped open the trapdoor and crawled inside

The tree house was exactly as Lyssa remembered it. Squishy pillows covered the floor, and potted plants sat on the ledges of the cut-out windows. Even the air smelled the same—like graham crackers. Lyssa and Penn weren’t allowed to toast marshmallows in the tree house, but they’d discovered that s’mores were amazing even when they were cold

Lyssa crouched near the far window, shuffling around in the pillows until she found the heavy metal flashlight that Penn kept hidden there. Even when it was sunny out, the giant tree cast shadows over Penn’s bedroom. Lyssa
lifted the flashlight and directed it at Penn’s window. Lyssa switched the flashlight on and off three times. Lyssa paused, counted to three, and switched it on again

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then someone ripped aside the curtains and Penn’s face appeared at the window. Her hair was a frizzy halo mess around her face

“Lyssa?” Penn called, squinting, as though she wasn’t sure whether what she’d seen was a dream or reality. Lyssa flicked the flashlight on one more time. Penn squealed. She scrambled out of the window and onto the clothesline that was pulled taut between her room and the tree house. The white sundress she wore billowed around her knees as she stood and walked easily across the thin rope

“I told you I’d—” Lyssa started to say, but before she could finish her sentence, her friend threw her arms around her, nearly knocking her off her feet

“I knew you were going to come home,” Penn said. “Everyone thought you ran away or were kidnapped or something, but I
knew
you were coming home.”

“I couldn’t miss the performance,” Lyssa said, hugging her friend back just as tightly. “Or the protest.”

Penn pulled away. “But everyone’s looking for you, Lyssa. There are police stationed all around your mom’s house. They’ll see you.”

Lyssa chewed at her bottom lip, thinking. She’d worked
too hard and traveled too far to be caught by the police now. But she couldn’t stay away from the protest, either

“I need a disguise…” Lyssa muttered to herself. She dropped to her feet and started digging through her backpack. She pulled out the short, brown-haired wig she’d borrowed from Circe. There were a few seeds stuck in the tangles and one or two strands of hair poked out at odd angles, but it would have to do. Lyssa pulled it over her head and tucked her blond braids up under it

“Well?” she asked Penn. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Your face still looks pretty Lyssa-ish. You need something else…” Penn pursed her lips, considering. “Wait! I know.”

Penn was out the window before Lyssa could blink, racing back over the clothesline to her bedroom. Lyssa groaned. Penn did this sometimes. She’d get some great idea, then rush off without explaining a thing. It was like her arms and legs worked faster than her mouth