Maya and the Return of the Godlings – Rena Barron
TRAINING TO BE a guardian was hard. Harder than when I forgot to do my math homework for a week straight and Ms. Vanderbilt dropped a pop quiz. Harder than when I had to dust the house from top to bottom and clean the basement. Even harder than corndog day in the school cafeteria, when I had to pick off the mushy cornbread . . . ew. Sweat streaked down my forehead and stung my eyes as I stood in front of the tear in the veil in the middle of Daley Plaza. It was six o’clock in the morning on the first day back to school, and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet. I had startled awake thirty minutes ago when my version of Spidey sense kicked in. Anytime a tear happened, there was a ripple in the fabric of space. If it was close enough, I could feel a tingling sensation across my forearms.