{"product_id":"the-thing-im-most-afraid-of-isbn-9780525518648","title":"The Thing I'm Most Afraid Of","description":"\u003cb\u003eA new middle-grade tale from critically acclaimed, award-winning author Kristin Levine about facing your fears, set in Vienna during the Bosnian genocide.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMost twelve-year-olds would be excited to fly to Austria to see their dad for the summer but then Becca is not most twelve-year-olds. Suffering from severe anxiety, she fears that the metal detectors at the airport will give her cancer and the long international flight will leave her with blood clots. Luckily, she's packed her Doomsday Journal, the one thing that always seems to help. By writing down her fears and what to do if the worst happens, Becca can get by without (many) panic attacks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRoutines and plans help Becca cope but living in a new country is full of the unexpected--including Becca's companions for the summer. Like Felix, the short and bookish son of Becca's dad's new girlfriend. Or Sara, the nineteen-year-old Bosnian refugee tasked with watching the two of them for the summer. As Becca explores Vienna and becomes close to her new friends, she soon learns she is not alone in her fears. What matters most is what you do when faced with them.\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eThe Thing I'm Most Afraid Of\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An \u003cb\u003eengaging \u003c\/b\u003ehistorical novel with an unusual, \u003cb\u003evividly realized setting\u003c\/b\u003e. . . A \u003cb\u003emoving\u003c\/b\u003e resolution.” —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“In this \u003cb\u003ethoughtful\u003c\/b\u003e novel populated with \u003cb\u003ewell-developed characters\u003c\/b\u003e, Levine slowly and realistically reveals Becca’s growth. . . \u003cb\u003eAn important story\u003c\/b\u003e about anxiety, change, and courage.” —\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Becca is \u003cb\u003ean engaging and sympathetic narrator\u003c\/b\u003e, and Levine (\u003ci\u003eThe Jigsaw Jungle\u003c\/i\u003e) writes her experience of anxiety with \u003cb\u003enuance \u003c\/b\u003eand \u003cb\u003esensitivity\u003c\/b\u003e. The past is never forgotten in Vienna, and Levine \u003cb\u003ethreads the city’s history\u003c\/b\u003e into this novel . . . while Sara’s recollections of the Bosnian War are \u003cb\u003eheartrendingly effective\u003c\/b\u003e.” —\u003ci\u003ePublisher’s Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“In this \u003cb\u003ehistorical novel\u003c\/b\u003e set in 1993, fears and anxieties are taking over 12-year-old Becca Greenburg’s life. . . As Becca . . . learn[s] that having and \u003cb\u003ebeing a support for others builds inner strength\u003c\/b\u003e . . . her anxieties do not vanish, but she \u003cb\u003elearns how to live in spite of them\u003c\/b\u003e. VERDICT: A \u003cb\u003eslice of history\u003c\/b\u003e that echoes another country’s struggle with anti-immigrant sentiment.” —S\u003ci\u003echool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eKristin Levine \u003c\/b\u003ereceived her BA in German from Swarthmore College and an MFA in film from American University. She spent a year in Vienna, Austria, working as an au pair, and has taught screenwriting at American University. Currently, she lives in Alexandria, Virginia, with her two daughters. She is the author of the critically acclaimed \u003ci\u003eThe Best Luck I Ever Had\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Lions of Little Rock\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Paper Cowboy.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003ePancakes and  Peanut Butter\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis had all started last February. Dad and I had gone out for brunch, like we did every weekend I was at his house. It was Valentine’s Day; I remember because I ordered heart-­shaped pancakes with strawberry sauce. The bacon was too raw, so I had to send it back, but the next batch was nice and crispy. I was just pouring syrup on my pancakes when Dad cleared his throat and announced that he had gotten a job at the International Atomic Energy Agency in Vienna.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Vienna?” I asked, stuffing a pancake into my mouth. “Isn’t that near Tysons Corner? Can I walk to the mall from your new office?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Not Vienna, Virginia,” Dad said. “Vienna, Austria.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI kept chewing. Truthfully, I was trying to remember if that was the one with Mozart or the one with kangaroos. I should have paid more attention when we did world geography in social studies. Finally, I swallowed. “Oh.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“That means,” Dad said slowly, “I’ll be moving overseas.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI looked up at him. I liked my life just how it was. I liked my dad with his short haircut (he wasn’t military, but a lot of the people he worked with were) and how he traded the suits he wore to work for jeans and an old T-­shirt on the weekends. I liked our schedule: Mom’s house on Monday and Wednesday, Dad’s on Tuesday and Thursday, and switching off on the weekends. It worked great! My stomach suddenly hurt.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I know it’s sudden,” Dad continued, “but I’m really excited about this.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI didn’t say anything.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’ve been waiting for years for a position to open up. And this is my dream job!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI knew he wanted a response, so finally I mumbled, “Yay. And you’ll get to see some koala bears.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“That’s Australia,” Dad said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oops.” I stabbed my heart-­shaped pancakes with my fork.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Sweetie,” Dad said. “Austria is beautiful. It’s known for Mozart, Schubert, and Beethoven. It was the home of Sigmund Freud, has amazing coffeehouses and architecture, and was a center of intellectual engagement and—­”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Didn’t it also have Nazis?” I asked.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDad sighed. “Yes, that’s true. Hitler was also from Austria.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI folded my arms. “So why would you want to go live there?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Maria von Trapp was from Austria.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe Sound of Music\u003c\/i\u003e is Mom’s favorite movie. Not mine.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Rebecca.” I could tell Dad was upset, because usually both my parents just called me Becca. “Think of what a great opportunity it would be. To live in another country. Doesn’t that sound interesting?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“But you and Mom share custody,” I pointed out. “How are we going to handle that?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’ve already spoken to your mother. You’ll stay with her for the rest of the school year and then come visit me for eight weeks in the summer.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLiving in another country for eight weeks sounded a lot more exciting than my normal summer routine of watching TV and hanging out at the pool. And I was lying about\u003ci\u003eThe Sound of Music\u003c\/i\u003e. It was definitely in my top ten. But there was one problem.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLast time I’d gotten on a plane, I’d been seven and we’d been going to see my grandparents in Chicago. I’d totally freaked out, started crying and screaming until I was so hysterical, I threw up. After the visit, Dad had rented a car and we’d driven the two days home. It had been shortly after that plane ride that I had started seeing Dr. Teresa.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Do you really think I can get on a plane and fly overseas by myself?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDad smiled. “That’s what is so perfect about this plan! Your mother has always wanted to go to Europe. And since she’s a teacher, she doesn’t have to work in the summer. So she’s going to fly over \u003ci\u003ewith\u003c\/i\u003e you, drop you off with me in Vienna, spend eight weeks traveling, and then pick you up on the way home.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat?!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Isn’t that a great idea?” Dad asked.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI felt dizzy. Why couldn’t I have \u003ci\u003enormal\u003c\/i\u003e divorced parents who fought with each other instead of worked together to create a secret plan to turn my life upside down?!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’ll even hire you a nanny. So you’ll have someone to take you sightseeing when I’m busy working.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI thought about that. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended that Dad thought I needed a babysitter or excited about having my very own Mary Poppins.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Becca, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dad said. “And I’m gonna miss you like crazy! But this is a once-­in-­a-­lifetime opportunity for me. I can’t pass it up.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI didn’t want Dad to pass it up. I wanted to be brave enough to go. “When are you leaving?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Two weeks.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Two weeks!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I know, it’s really soon! But I’ll call and write as much as I can. And you won’t come until school’s out, so that gives you four months to get used to the idea.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m not going to get used to the idea!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Sure you will. Look, for now all I’m asking is that you work with Dr. Teresa on a plan.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Fine,” I agreed. “But if this actually happens and you end up hiring me a nanny, she’d better be just like Julie Andrews!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Absolutely.” Dad laughed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAfter that, we pretended everything was okay. Dad finished his eggs; I drank the rest of my juice. Dad told me all about this old movie starring Orson Welles that was set in Vienna. “You have to see it!” he said. I nodded politely.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut there was another problem. I knew Dad loved me, and we had fun when we were together, but I’d seen how he’d sighed when I sent back my undercooked bacon. I knew he got frustrated when we had to leave the movies because there were too many people. And a couple of months ago, I’d overheard him telling my mom that they shouldn’t buy me tickets to see \u003ci\u003eLes Misérables\u003c\/i\u003e for my birthday because I’d probably be too nervous to stay for the whole thing and he didn’t want to waste the money. I couldn’t help wondering if maybe Dad sometimes wished for a daughter who didn’t worry quite so much.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe thought rattled around in my head, like a gumball in an almost empty machine, for months. It was still there as I sat in the airport McDonald’s and finished up my Diet Coke. “Penny for your thoughts?” Mom asked.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Groschen, Mom,” I told her. “Pennies in Austria are called groschen.” Dad had sent me a few coins in the mail. I wanted to tell her my worries about Dad, but I was already so embarrassed about the metal detector. I wanted to say I was going to miss her, but I couldn’t say that either or I’d start blubbering again. Instead I asked, “Do you have your AT\u0026amp;T calling card? With the country codes? No matter where you are, you just dial the number for that particular country and—­”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“And it will automatically charge my account. Yes, I know.” Mom rummaged in her blue backpack and pulled out a brown paper bag, which she handed to me. “I brought you something.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eInside the bag were apple slices, peanut butter and crackers, and three soft-­baked chocolate chip cookies. This was the lunch Mom had packed for me every single day of elementary school. Every. Single. Day. In first grade, she’d tried to give me different things, put in a turkey sandwich, or an orange, or Oreos instead of chocolate chip cookies, but I’d always given the offending food away and come home complaining of being hungry. Finally, she gave up.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis lunch screamed \u003ci\u003ehome\u003c\/i\u003e to me like nothing else. The peanut butter smelled so good. Dad had promised to have some peanut butter for me in his kitchen when I arrived.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I thought you might like some comfort food on the plane.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Thanks.” Okay, so maybe a tear or two sneaked out. And I guess Mom noticed, because she wiped them away with her thumb.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Becca . . .”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m fine!” I said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’re going to have fun.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m going to miss you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMom came over to my side of the booth and whispered, “I’m going to miss you too.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe sat like that for a minute, and I started to feel a little better, at least until I heard the announcement over the PA system. “Austrian Airlines Flight 743 to Vienna. Boarding now.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Time to go.” Mom wiped her eyes, her voice falsely bright.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yeah.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I bet you’re excited to see Dad.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yeah.” Thump, thump, thump went my heart. Dad had been methodical about staying in touch (he wrote twice a week, and we talked on the phone every Sunday), but it wasn’t the same as being together. What if he liked it better this way? What if he liked \u003ci\u003eme\u003c\/i\u003e better when he didn’t have to deal with all my worries?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I can’t do it,” I cried. “I want to see Dad, but I’m so scared.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh, sweetie, we’ve discussed this. Flying is safer than driving!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hadn’t been talking about the plane—­but now I was worried about that too!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMom pulled me into a hug and sang softly into my ear, “\u003ci\u003eI’ve always longed for adventure, to do the things I’ve never dared. Now here I’m facing adventure. Then why am I so scared?\u003c\/i\u003e”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI knew that song. It was from \u003ci\u003eThe Sound of Music\u003c\/i\u003e, when Fräulein Maria is leaving the abbey for the first time.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’re going to be just fine,” Mom said firmly. She grabbed my arm and marched us both over to the gate agent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We are going on a grand adventure!” she announced.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI was so embarrassed, but the gate agent just looked at us blankly. “Boarding passes, please.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy mom handed her our tickets and then pushed me onto the gangway. I looked back. “Right behind you, sweetie.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd so I didn’t have a choice except to turn and start walking. I imagined Maria from \u003ci\u003eThe Sound of Music\u003c\/i\u003e, starting out so hesitantly as she leaves the abbey, then gaining strength and courage until she’s literally skipping down the road.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI tried to channel her. I strode more confidently down the walkway toward the plane.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut I didn’t skip.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302481350885,"sku":"NP9780525518648","price":17.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525518648.jpg?v=1767741830","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-thing-im-most-afraid-of-isbn-9780525518648","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}