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The World Ends in April by [Stacy McAnulty]
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The World Ends in April Kindle Edition

4.7 out of 5 stars 194 ratings

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Praise for The World Ends in April:

 "A smart, funny and emotionally candid book."—Shelf Awareness, starred review

“The novel has an exceptional grasp of melancholy that leaves an impact even after its philosophical ending.” —Bulletin

“ A well-paced, engrossing plot with endearing characters."—Booklist

Praise for The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl

"Unique and utterly satisfying."--Kirkus Reviews, starred review

"Prepare to fall in love."--School Library Journal, starred review

"Lucy's journey is beautifully authentic in this debut brimming with warmth, wisdom, and math."--Publishers Weekly, starred review

“McAnulty’s well-drawn cast of characters grapple with the difficulties of middle school, friendships, and life. An engaging story, full of heart and hope. Readers of all ages will root for Lucy, aka Lightning Girl. No miscalculations here!” —Kate Beasley, author of Gertie’s Leap to Greatness

"Fresh story, great characters, a winner!" —Barbara O'Connor, author of Wish

"The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl is calculated to steal your heart!" - Alan Gratz author of Ban This Book and Refugee --This text refers to the hardcover edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Mack Jefferson, my best--and only--friend, reads to me from his Braille edition of The Outsiders. I’m spread out on the floor of my bedroom with my dog, Bubbles, running my hand through her soft belly fur and wondering if we have any pudding cups in the pantry. Also wondering if Mack will notice if I slip out for a few minutes. Probably. I’ve tried in the past.
“Elle, are you even listening?” he asks.
“Of course. Always. I love this book.”
“Lies. All lies.” Mack uses a ridiculous accent like he’s a vampire from Transylvania, when actually he’s a black, blind twelve-year-old kid from North Carolina.
“Just keep reading.” I pull Bubbles into my lap.
“Dude, I finished the chapter.”
“Oh, good.” That means our language arts homework is done. Mack’s a good student. I’m a student. “Do you want to--”
A loud knock interrupts me. Bubbles jumps up, barks once, and then hides under my bed.
“Go away! No one is here!” I’m expecting one of my brothers.
But the door opens, and it’s Grandpa Joe in his camouflage pants, an army-green T-shirt, and a matching cap. His cheeks are red and his eyes flash with excitement.
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” I ask. Even though he lives only ten minutes away, he rarely just stops by.
“Private Eleanor Dross, it’s time. We have to bug out. Now!” He smiles but quickly covers his grin with his hand.
“What?” I say, as if I don’t know what he’s talking about. But I totally do. Grandpa Joe is here for one of his drills. He spends his days getting ready for catastrophes. And whenever he can, he drags me and my brothers along for practice.
“We can’t,” I tell him. “I have a friend over.” I motion to Mack in case Grandpa Joe missed him.
“We’ll take Private Mack with us. But we gotta roll now. Giddyup!”
“What’s happening?” Mack rocks in his seat.
“Get moving, soldiers. I’ll explain in the truck.” He claps his hands three times.
“Grandpa Joe, stop. You’re scaring Mack.”
“I’m not scared,” Mack says, smiling.
Bubbles wriggles out from under the bed and jumps back into my lap. She must sense that this is not an emergency.
I look at the time on my phone. “It’s almost six. Dad’s going to be home any minute.” And he has no patience for these drills.
“Your daddy is gone,” Grandpa Joe says, and for a second I feel sick, as if he just told me Dad was gone gone.
“Stuck in Columbus on business. Called to ask if I could look after y’all tonight.”
I understand now. Grandpa Joe has decided to seize the moment.
“I don’t have time for a drill,” I whine. “I have homework to do.” And Netflix to watch.
“Who says this is a drill?” Grandpa Joe puts his fists on his hips and puffs out his chest. “Grab your bug-out bag. Be in the truck in two minutes. I’ll round up the boys.” He backs out of my room.
“Cool,” Mack says as he stands and unfolds his cane. “Drill or not, I’ve always wanted to bug out.” Mack’s one of those people who like everything. If he were an emoji, he’d be the smiley face. Me, I’d be the eye-roll emoji.
Some grandfathers bowl, play golf, or build model airplanes. At least in movies. Mine is a prepper--someone who spends their time and money preparing for the apocalypse.
“Trust me. This is just a stupid drill.” Then I get an idea. “And you’re my ticket out. Tell him you can’t go with us. Tell him to take you home, and I’ll escape with you. Please.”
“No, Elle. I want to do this. I’ve heard you complain about these drills forever. I want to experience the torture.”
“Thanks for nothing.” I pull myself to my feet and set Bubbles on my bed. “You’re the only one who understands me, girl.”
My bug-out bag--or BOB--is packed. Mostly. Grandpa Joe gave me all the supplies years ago. I dig it out from the bottom of my closet, under clothes and stuffed animals that I can’t seem to throw away. The bag flips over. Everything spills out.
“Shoot!” I grab handfuls of whatever and shove them into the bag.
“One minute, Team Dross!” Grandpa Joe hollers.
My brothers crash through the hallway like a herd of acrobatic elephants. They’re in elementary school and still think this is fun.
I yank on sneakers. I wore sandals once for a bug-out drill, and the lecture lasted longer than the exercise.
“Darn. I can’t find my flak jacket.” It’s army green and has about a thousand pockets. Instead, I slip on a purple cotton hoodie and pull my blond hair into a ponytail. This isn’t going to end well.
“What do I need?” Mack asks. He wears the same thing every day: jeans, sneakers, either a black or gray T-shirt, and dark glasses.
“Nothing. You’re fine.” There’s no chance Mack will disappoint Grandpa Joe. Me, on the other hand--it’s pretty much guaranteed.
The lights go dark for a few seconds and then come back on. I assume Grandpa Joe has hit the main power breaker to the house. He’s done it before.
Mack grabs his own backpack. It’s filled with normal stuff like schoolwork, his iPad, and a lunch bag.
“Come on, Mack.” I lead him to the stairs and place his hand on the railing. Mack knows my house well. He ought to; we’ve been friends since kindergarten.
Bubbles tries to follow us out the garage door. I have to stop her from escaping. She’s small (only fifteen pounds) and sweet, and she’d be totally useless in an emergency situation. Real or imaginary.
  --This text refers to the hardcover edition.

Product details

  • ASIN ‏ : ‎ B07N5GMPCW
  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ Random House Books for Young Readers (3 September 2019)
  • Language ‏ : ‎ English
  • File size ‏ : ‎ 4079 KB
  • Text-to-Speech ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • Enhanced typesetting ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • X-Ray ‏ : ‎ Not Enabled
  • Word Wise ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • Print length ‏ : ‎ 364 pages
  • Customer Reviews:
    4.7 out of 5 stars 194 ratings

Customer reviews

4.7 out of 5 stars
4.7 out of 5
194 global ratings
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Top reviews from India

Reviewed in India on 28 April 2021
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Reviewed in India on 24 February 2021
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Top reviews from other countries

Tina Says
5.0 out of 5 stars Sophomore Novel is Just As Good As Her First
Reviewed in the United States on 8 January 2020
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sharon batson
5.0 out of 5 stars Excellent for 10-12 year old
Reviewed in the United States on 26 January 2021
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Becky Rhinehart
5.0 out of 5 stars This was a very creative way for the world to end.
Reviewed in the United States on 7 March 2020
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C. Mayhew
5.0 out of 5 stars Great book
Reviewed in the United States on 7 January 2021
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5.0 out of 5 stars Perfect Christmas Gift
Reviewed in the United States on 18 January 2020
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