The Great Escape Read online

I speed-walked back to our table.

  “Look!” I cried. “Bubbles are scooting to the surface.” The bottle of bluish, purplish water filled with bubbles, first at the bottom, then shooting up to escape to the top.

  Jumping up and down, I could feel my own bubbles of happiness.

  “The pressure is building.” I rubbed my hands together. “This is good. Very good!”

  Shapeless curls of white vapor spurted into the air.

  “Wow! It looks like a ghost,” gushed Birdie. “Like the one my aunty in Ann Arbor saw in her house.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” I said. “She was only trying to scare you.”

  “Nope, it was real,” insisted Birdie.

  “No way,” I said.

  “I bet she could feel the presence of the ghost right in her bones,” said Phoenix. “That’s how you know a ghost has shown up.”

  “Well, this ghost is definitely here! Look!” The Ghost rose up from the bubbling brew. It reached out a spooky, misty finger. A curl of vapor touched the yellow finish line.

  “We finished the first challenge!” hooted Phoenix, who then spun around in her ballet-like, vegan leather shoes. Her long hair swirled around her shoulders.

  Birdie gawked at the shifting shape of the mist. “It’s so pretty.”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful. We did it!” I said.

  Operation Ghost was a success. We all high-fived.

  And that’s when I heard a familiar moan, and it was coming from the corner of the room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Ice Age

  Dry Ice (noun). It’s carbon dioxide in the solid form. And it’s super cool. Literally. As in —78° C, which is —109° F! And when it heats up, it doesn’t melt like regular water ice. Instead, it converts directly into a gas without ever being a liquid! Some say the gas looks like a spooky but hopefully friendly ghost.

  ELIJAH BENT OVER, STARING AT HIS BOTTLE. “Hey, guys. C’mon. I’m sure it will start to explode like a volcano. Just give it a sec.”

  “More like eternity.” Jeremy stood with his arms crossed, glaring. The reddish-orange mixture bubbled, but only a little bit. Hardly any vapor escaped.

  Memito blew out an exasperated sigh. “It’s never going to work, guys. We’re going to lose.” He slumped back in his chair. “We need a miracle.”

  “I bet there’s a simple solution,” said Elijah in an upbeat voice. But I knew he was feeling down. I watched him tug on his afro. He only did that when he was really upset. I felt awful for him.

  “Check the water,” I whispered from across the room.

  He kept on staring at the water with hopeful eyes, like it would start to fizz as fast as opening a soda can. But that only happens because the pressure is released, and then carbon dioxide bubbles out.

  “It’s not a ghost. It’s like a wimpy version of Alka-Seltzer,” said Memito.

  Elijah leaned his hands against the table. “We just need to give it more time.”

  “Psst, Elijah,” I said, creeping toward him. “Check the water.”

  His brows drew together. “The water?”

  “What are you doing, Kate?” asked Phoenix, frantically waving the index card for our next challenge. “We need to get started on Moon Rocks.”

  I held up my hand. “Hold up.”

  Cupping my mouth, I whispered to Elijah. “You need warmer water.”

  “Oh, thanks, Kate!” His lips pulled into a wide smile. “So I just need to add warm water. Will do!”

  “We’re supposed to use warm water?” gasped Julia, whose table was right in front of Elijah’s.

  “Um, yeah,” I admitted a little reluctantly.

  Julia frowned at her group’s attempt at a Ghost. “We put in ice water.” She hoisted up her water bottle. “And it’s not doing anything.”

  “There’s no mist,” said Avery. “Nothing’s happening.”

  “Just a few tiny bubbles,” murmured Skyler.

  “Guess we’re all doomed to get bad grades,” said Memito in a gloomy voice.

  “Except for Kate the Chemist, Phoenix, and Birdie,” said Jeremy.

  “Everyone calm down.” Ms. Daly made a stopping motion. “In science, if you don’t like how it’s going, it’s fine to start again. Get new bottles and I’ll take yours.” Elijah and Julia eagerly handed theirs back to Ms. Daly, then they hustled over to the materials table to grab new bottles.

  I strolled triumphantly back to my teammates. Only, instead of smiling, Phoenix glared at me.

  “You helped Jeremy’s group,” she accused with a baffled expression. “And Julia’s, too.”

  “Well, that second part was by accident. But Elijah’s my friend,” I said, resenting that I even needed to explain this.

  Birdie shot me an understanding look. Elijah was her friend too. But since Elijah was my next-door neighbor, I’ve known him even longer than Birdie. He and I started hanging out when we were still in diapers. Our moms would take us to the playground together. I met Birdie a few years later in first grade, and we’ve bonded like hydrogen and oxygen in water ever since.

  “Well, we’d better get started on Moon Rocks,” Phoenix said. “We need to keep our lead.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control,” I said. “It’s all going to work out.

  Uh, not really. That was the worst prediction I’ve ever made.

  Because what happened next was the opposite of working out.

  It was a science disaster of epic proportions.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A Sour Moment

  Acid (noun). An acid is a substance that can donate a proton to another substance. That means that acids are generous. It’s funny to think of lemon juice and vinegar as generous though!

  A MOON ROCK IS MADE UP OF two teaspoons of water, a cup of baking soda, and a few drops of food coloring. Wearing gloves, you shape it into an alien-looking rock. Then you pour lemon juice onto the rock to watch the reaction.

  Sounds simple, right?

  It would be . . . if your best friend weren’t an artist.

  It would be . . . if she weren’t obsessed with the Moon Rock becoming the perfect shade of teal blue.

  “That’s awesome, Birdie,” I said encouragingly, as she kept on adding a little more food coloring.

  “It’s getting close,” she admitted, biting her lip. “But I don’t have the blue to yellow ratio right.”

  “But you do,” I insisted. “Don’t you think so, Phoenix?” I nudged her shoulder.

  “Actually,” Phoenix answered in her slow way. “It looks really close to me.”

  “Not quite,” said Birdie. “It’s too dark, almost royal blue.”

  “Good enough for royalty, good enough for me,” I quipped. “So while you work on that, I’m going to cut up the lemon, so we can have the—” I stopped speaking.

  Instead I was staring at Jeremy’s group as they squeezed not one but two lemons over their misshapen green moon rock. They were pulling way ahead of us. Their group would be the ones to get to do the Vomiting Pumpkin demo, and not ours.

  Memito tossed away the squeezed lemon halves while Elijah whooped in delight. “Dude, look! That’s alien activity if I ever saw it.”

  “They’re communicating with us,” said Memito. “They’re preparing an invasion.” He cowered in mock fear.

  “Nah. They’re telling the mother ship that we’re going to win,” sang out Jeremy.

  Memito puffed out his cheeks and made spluttering radio signal sounds. That kid loved to make sound effects.

  “Earth to mother ship,” called out Elijah. “We have conquered!”

  “Not so fast!” I chopped my lemon in half super fast and raced to my table. “Okay,” I said. “I’m ready with the lemons.”

  But I couldn’t squeeze the lemons yet since Birdie was no
w adding silver glitter. “Don’t you think it already looks great?” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “And now it will look even better,” gushed Birdie.

  Then the rest of what she was saying was drowned out by a squealing Avery. “See! It’s a crater,” she cried, waving at Skyler and Julia. “We did it. It’s foaming!”

  They all clapped, admiring their perfect fizzy Moon Rock.

  Oh, no. Suddenly, I wanted a rewind. In chemistry, they call that a reversible reaction. But right now, it seemed like my fate was sealed. It was irreversible. We were losing.

  “Time for the final challenge!” called out Jeremy, as Elijah read the directions for the Neon Brains.

  “We’re behind,” I said with lemon juice dripping down my arm. “So let’s go!”

  Birdie whirled around, holding the little bottles of food coloring. She glanced at the teal color of the rock. “It’s really the perfect shade of blue now.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, squeezing the lemon juice over the Moon Rock. It foamed, making a crackly sound. “It worked! You guys, we can catch up,” I said, trying to stay positive. “Let’s just get the materials for the Neon Brains. All of them.”

  For the first time, Phoenix read quickly. “One tall cup, one tablespoon of dish soap, one cup of water, one highlighter, one pair of pliers, and a baking sheet.”

  As Birdie and I headed to the supply table, I heard Phoenix ask Ms. Daly if there could be more than one winning team. “What if there’s a tie because we’re all marvelous?” she asked. “And doing good things?”

  “I have no problem with that possibility,” said Ms. Daly, heading back to her desk.

  That’s when I saw Jeremy shake his head as he made his way to the supply table. “There’s only going to be one winning team,” he said.

  Phoenix spread out her arms. “Well, if that’s true, you’re looking at a member of the winning team.”

  “That’s what you think. You’re such a teacher’s pet,” snapped Jeremy.

  “Don’t call her that,” I growled, stepping up to Jeremy until we practically bumped noses. He was really getting on my nerves.

  “We’re all so marvelous,” said Jeremy, imitating the way Phoenix overenunciated words.

  “Uh-oh,” said Memito, making explosion sounds with his mouth. “There’s about to be fireworks.”

  Elijah threw up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”

  “Actually, she’s looking at me,” said Jeremy.

  I jabbed my finger in the air. “Well, your team took the plastic bottle, even before we were supposed to start.”

  “Yeah, but we put it back,” said Jeremy.

  “Only because Ms. Daly told you to,” hissed Phoenix.

  “You guys should be disqualified!” I said.

  “Wrong!” yelled Jeremy, grabbing the pliers from the supply table at the same time as me. “Let go, Kate.”

  “No, it’s ours.”

  We tugged on the pliers.

  Elijah stepped away from us, banging into Phoenix. With a yelp, she dropped a cup of soapy water, which thunked onto the floor and then she stepped back into the potted cactus. Her hand slid right into some needles. “Ouch!” she groaned as she swiped her hand away.

  The pliers thudded onto the floor.

  Ms. Daly rushed to Phoenix. “Are you all right?”

  Phoenix squinted as if holding back tears. “Yes,” she said, balling up her hand.

  “It’s all because of Jeremy!” I said.

  “Well, and Elijah, too,” said Phoenix.

  “It was an accident!” protested Elijah.

  “I hope so,” said Phoenix, not looking convinced.

  Then Jeremy called out, “Phoenix is a teacher’s pet. And Kate and Birdie!”

  Birdie folded her arms across her chest. “We are not!”

  That’s when Ms. Daly said in an eerily calm voice, “Everyone needs to stop talking right now.” She squinted at the six of us. “I think you all know what this means.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Broken

  Decomposition (noun). This means the breakdown of a molecule or a substance. It can happen when we add too much heat to a chemical. It’s like breaking a chocolate chip cookie in half so now there’s two crumbly pieces, instead of one whole big cookie. Of course, it’s always better to eat a whole cookie!

  FIRST OF ALL, YOU MUST KNOW THAT I, Kate Crawford, didn’t win today’s Science Challenge.

  Julia’s group did. They would be the ones getting to demonstrate the Vomiting Pumpkin at the Fall Festival on Friday.

  But that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst part was the way that Ms. Daly looked at me.

  “I’m very disappointed in all of you,” she said. But her eyes zeroed in on me first. After all, I am the president of the chemistry club, so I’m supposed to be extra responsible.

  It’s not like I don’t know the rules. You never allow yourself to get out of control in a lab. And you definitely can’t get involved in a tug-of-war involving pliers when there’s a potted cactus nearby. Even if Jeremy was so wrong. And extremely annoying.

  During the rest of the period, Julia, Avery, and Skyler had fun with Neon Brains. Meanwhile, the rest of us sat with our heads on the table, writing all the things we did wrong in our notebooks. Right now, it felt like everything was breaking apart. In chemistry, they call that decomposition. It’s when a molecule or substance breaks down. Like when you break apart hydrogen peroxide, for example. The chemical bonds are broken in the peroxide, and then you end up with oxygen gas and liquid water—two separate things.

  Depending on what’s happening, decomposition can happen all at once or in a series of steps.

  “I’m afraid you six will all receive zeroes for today,” said Ms. Daly.

  I swallowed hard. Right now, I felt like my life was decomposing all at once! Birdie had tears in her eyes. Phoenix pulled on her macramé bracelet.

  Elijah stared at the wall, and Jeremy pointed at me, smirking.

  Memito jutted out his lower lip, sighing heavily.

  With furrowed brows, Ms. Daly said in a scary, quiet voice. “And I’d like to see all six of you after school tomorrow. It’s important that you be there.”

  My head felt so heavy I thought it might roll right off my neck.

  This wasn’t all my fault. Was it?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A Galaxy of Disappointment

  Scientific Fact (noun). A simple observation of the world that does not change over time. Unlike fashion, which changes all of the time. And, of course, the weather.

  NOTHING WAS GOING RIGHT. During lunch, I sat at the end of a long table with Birdie, Phoenix, and Avery. Nobody was speaking. I stared at my bologna sandwich. Ugh. Bologna. Ham is my favorite lunchmeat. It’s square, my favorite shape, because I like defined edges and corners. The circular bologna was covered with a piece of crisp lettuce. I could only take one bite and then stared at an unopened bag of potato chips.

  To make things worse, Fall Festival posters lined every wall of the cafeteria. “I can’t believe we’re not going to be able to do the Vomiting Pumpkin demo at the festival,” I said, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to be tortured by the sight of the posters featuring grinning jack-o’-lanterns.

  “The festival will still be fun,” said Birdie. “Face painting, caramel apples.”

  “Bean bag toss, the cakewalk, and the costume photo booth,” said Phoenix.

  “Sack races, the bouncy houses, fun cheesy prizes,” added Avery.

  “I just can’t get happy about it,” I admitted. “It’s because of the”—I could barely say the word—“the detention.”

  After opening her stainless-steel container, Phoenix dipped a stick of celery into the hummus inside. “I didn’t know that detentions were a thing at our school,” she sai
d.

  “They’re not.” I could hardly swallow.

  “I guess you would know,” said Avery. “Since your mom is the principal.”

  “Thanks for pointing that out,” I mumbled. Sometimes Avery knew how to poke a sore spot. I mean, of course I knew that my mom was the principal. I’ve only lived with her for all ten years of my life. And of course I was freaked out about having to report after school tomorrow for what appeared to be a detention. Did she really need to rub it in? Already I was regretting eating with Avery. But when you decide to eat with Phoenix, it also means eating with Avery. They’re bonded like atoms in a molecule.

  Phoenix crunched on a celery stick. Birdie started to doodle in her notebook. Well, not really doodle—she was furiously drawing spirals. She whispered, “Do you think your mom will be really mad, Kate?”

  I sagged into my chair. “I don’t even want to think about it.” Not only would my parents be unhappy, but I was truly disappointed in myself. A whole galaxy of disappointment.

  Normally, Elijah eats with us too, but today he was eating with Jeremy and Memito at the far end of our long rectangular table. Honestly, I was surprised that they weren’t sitting at the opposite end of the cafeteria. Or the universe.

  “I heard detentions go on your permanent record,” called out Memito, twirling the lid of his thermos on his finger. “Then in middle school you get labeled as a troublemaker. And it follows you to high school, too.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “It would have to be way more serious for that to happen.” Nearby, one of the monitors, Ms. Giosso, was directing kids to throw away their recycling in the proper bin. For a moment, her eyes scanned our table. Suddenly I wondered if she had heard about our detention.

  “Staying after school is not good,” said Elijah, staring glumly at his applesauce.

  “Yeah, it’s not awesome,” agreed Jeremy, although he didn’t look all that sad. “But it’s not the biggest deal.”

  “I think it’s a big deal.” Memito made a farting sound by sticking out his tongue. Elijah laughed.