The Great Escape Page 3

  “Eh.” Jeremy shrugged. “It’ll be just another afternoon at Franklin Elementary.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Phoenix, waving her hand, which had a Band-Aid where the cactus needles had pricked her palm.

  “Mmm, these fries are tasty,” said Jeremy, dipping a french fry in some ketchup. Leaning back, he tipped his chair like it was a rocker. Jeremy hardly seemed disturbed, which wasn’t like him.

  “How can you be happy?” Just as the lunch monitor stepped closer to our table, Phoenix flung a crumpled napkin over at Jeremy.

  Ms. Giosso marched right up to our table. I braced myself. Phoenix was about to be written up. The monitor stopped at the head of the table. Her eyes locked with Phoenix’s. “Did I just see you throw a napkin?” she asked.

  “Yes, you did!” said Phoenix, pronouncing each word like she was on stage. She smiled proudly. “I just learned how to throw a curveball. And I was practicing a two-seam grip. My cousin’s on the softball team at Sonoma State, in California, and showed me via Skype.”

  “Really?” Ms. Giosso patted her throat. “I played softball in high school. You’re looking at the shortstop.” She glanced at the glass wall overlooking the playing field. “Next time, practice that curveball out there. Okay?”

  “Oh yes, will do,” said Phoenix as Ms. Giosso headed over to the salad bar, where some kids were tossing tongs.

  Memito pretended to mop his brow. “Phew,” he said. “That was too close.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. “If that had been me, I would have gotten a detention on the spot.”

  “Please don’t say that word,” I begged. “Detention.”

  “Kate, don’t worry,” said Elijah. “Maybe it’s not an actual detention. Maybe it’s just a special chemistry club meeting.”

  “Good try,” I said. “Except chemistry club was canceled this week because of the Science Challenge.”

  “I don’t think it could be anything else but a detention,” groaned Memito.

  “Let’s get real,” said Jeremy. “Ms. Daly is kind of old. And back in the olden times, they did stuff like that.”

  “Ageism!” accused Phoenix, wagging her finger as Jeremy made a face. “That’s prejudice against older people. Girls, I’m thinking we should sit at a different table.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Agreed,” said Birdie.

  Then the bell rang.

  And it was too late.

  “Well, you can try to avoid us, Phoenix,” said Jeremy. “But we’ll be seeing all of you at your doomsday tomorrow afternoon.” He threw back his head, smirking. “Bye-bye!” he said getting up to go with Elijah and Memito.

  “Hey! It’s your doomsday too,” I said.

  Jeremy gave us a thumbs-up, then disappeared along with Elijah and Memito into the crowd leaving the cafeteria.

  Popping off my seat, I turned to Phoenix and Birdie. “There’s something going on with him. I don’t know what it is. But I’m going to figure it out.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Colliding On and Off the Field

  Collision Theory (noun). When two molecules collide, they transfer kinetic energy, which can break bonds within the molecules. But this is a good thing, because it means that new bonds can be made. Think of it like playing Red Rover, where a kid crashes through linked hands. But then different hands can link, and the fun game can continue.

  “OKAY, THIS IS REALLY THE LAST STRAW,” said Phoenix, grimacing as she punched the tetherball super hard.

  I was about to punch it back but I caught the ball instead. “Wasn’t that your bad hand?” I said.

  Phoenix gazed down in surprise. “I definitely shouldn’t have done that. I can still feel those cactus needles.” She turned and gazed over at Birdie. “I think I’m going to sit down.” Phoenix never sits down during recess so I knew she must still be in a little bit of pain. Avery, on the other hand, often sat inside during recess to read.

  Phoenix plopped down next to Birdie, who was sketching at a nearby picnic table. I went over to join them and inspected Birdie’s drawing. It was a creepy vampire with streaks of purple in his blond hair. Only this vampire wasn’t sleeping in a crypt, but on a giant soccer ball. And he looked really familiar.

  “That’s Jeremy,” I said.

  “You definitely captured his personality,” said Phoenix.

  I gazed at the blue October sky. Canada geese flew overhead in a V formation. It was warm enough that we didn’t need our coats, just sweaters. “I really want to find out why Jeremy’s not more bothered by the detention. It’s so strange.”

  I hopped off the picnic bench. “Let’s go over by the field.”

  “You think watching him play soccer is going to help?” asked Phoenix.

  “Well, we won’t learn anything just sitting here,” I said. We were like a bunch of molecules in a solid, hardly moving. Just sort of vibrating.

  “I’m in.” Birdie snapped shut her sketchbook.

  “Me too,” said Phoenix. “Most definitely.”

  We crept closer to the field and settled in by some mulberry bushes, close enough so we could eavesdrop.

  “Memito, your shoes are untied,” said Jeremy just after he finished scoring a goal.

  “You’ll trip,” warned Elijah.

  Memito adjusted his baseball cap. “Maybe I’ll break my right arm. And then I’ll get an excuse for the rest of the month. I won’t be able to do any writing.”

  “They’ll make you write with your left hand,” said Jeremy.

  “That would be scary,” said Memito, kicking up some grass. “I’d write like a preschooler. No, way worse. An alien.”

  “I’d write for you,” offered Elijah.

  “Dude, no. You’ve got such bad handwriting,” said Memito. “And your hands are sticky.”

  “My hands?” said Elijah. “You’re the one always eating power bars.”

  “That why I’m full of power.” Memito raised both of his arms in a champion salute.

  They weren’t talking about real stuff, just stuff like a broken arm that might possibly happen. In science, that’s not even a hypothesis, because a hypothesis is stuff that you expect to be true.

  With a sigh, I signaled for us to head back to the picnic table. We were just about to leave when Elijah stepped up to us.

  “Hey,” he said. “What are you all doing?”

  “Nothing,” said Phoenix.

  “Yeah,” added Birdie.

  “Bird watching.” I giggled, pointing to Birdie.

  “Ha ha.” Elijah didn’t look convinced though. “Hey, Kate, do you think that your mom can take me home tomorrow? After our detention.”

  I didn’t say anything. Right now, I was annoyed at Elijah. How could he be hanging around with Jeremy?

  “Did you hear what I just said?” he said.

  “Yeah”

  “So?”

  I shrugged. “I guess my mom can drive you.” Suddenly, it reminded me all over again of the upcoming detention. Today wasn’t going so well. And the forecast for tomorrow wasn’t looking any better.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Secrets to keep

  Metabolism (noun). A chemical process that happens in cells and organisms to convert food into energy. Or how your body converts that hot dog you ate into a cartwheel.

  AFTER SCHOOL, I GRABBED A chocolate chip granola bar that I hadn’t eaten during lunch from my backpack. Plopping down in a chair, I considered when the best time would be to tell my parents about what happened during the Science Challenge.

  There didn’t seem to be a good time.

  But it was a good time for getting some energy out. I guess you could say I was ready for an exothermic reaction. In chemistry, that’s when energy is released into an environment. So I headed to the backyard to kick a soccer ball against a woode
n practice wall that my dad had built for me, where I definitely released a whole bunch of energy.

  After that, I tried doing my math homework on the kitchen table. Only we had to answer questions about the role of base numbers versus exponents. Like we had to explain 72 meant the same as 7 x 7. And that 7 was the base number and 2 was the exponent. Why couldn’t we just have regular math homework? I would really love some busywork right now.

  As I stared at the blank page in my workbook, a delicious aroma filled the kitchen. On the oven top, a whole chicken and a bunch of roasted vegetables were cooling. It looked like Dad had gotten everything ready for dinner, except for setting the table, which was my job.

  My dog, Dribble, trotted to the oven. “Smells good, right?” I said. “It’s not for you, silly. It’s human food.”

  His fluffy rust-colored tail wagged back and forth. I really shouldn’t have said that word. Food. When we first adopted him last year from the animal shelter, he had the biggest appetite. And nothing’s changed. He always thinks it’s dinnertime. Dribble nosed over to me, and I scratched him behind the ears.

  I felt so guilty about even mentioning food, I plopped a handful of dog treats into his bowl. “This is your pre-dinner snack,” I told him.

  My feeling of guilt didn’t lift though. Chewing on my knuckle, I thought about the Science Challenge, Jeremy, and the detention.

  I should probably tell Mom and Dad the awful details after they had eaten some of their dinner. You see, nobody in my family is easygoing when they’re hungry. Not even my dog. Dribble crunched his treats down in practically one swallow. He looked at me with sad and hopeful doggy eyes. I knew exactly how he felt.

  I heard a chair scrape against the floor above me. Dad was in his home office going over paperwork. He’s a therapist and has a ton of paperwork. That means when he’s in the zone of filling out forms, I’m pretty much safe from him asking me too many questions. I glanced up at the clock on the microwave. It was already 6:15 p.m. Mom should be home any second.

  Ugh.

  Today, Mom had an extra-late meeting after school. I almost never get a ride home with her, because once school is over, she’s usually at a meeting. But I do go home with her on the days I have after-school activities, like chemistry club. Or, I guess, if I get detention.

  I flopped back in my chair, and my thoughts spun. What if Mom already knew about the incident? What if Ms. Daly had already told her, and the entire staff at Rosalind Franklin Elementary was horrified that her usually pretty well-behaved, science-obsessed daughter had gotten into trouble?

  Someone thudded into the kitchen. Someone not very big but very loud: my five-year-old brother, Liam.

  “Want to see my Lego ship?” he asked. It was more of a command than a question.

  “Sure.”

  He dragged me into the family room, where he had an entire fleet of Lego spaceships. “See, that’s the refueling station,” he said, pointing to a flat gray piece with multicolored squares on it.

  “Wow.”

  “And that’s where they get secret weapons. They’re invisible.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re not listening.” He flopped to the floor and folded his arms across this chest. He sounded and looked just like a miniature version of Dad. However, everyone knows Liam is my brother because we have the exact same hair color. Light brown with bright gold highlights. Liam made such a cute grumpy face that I laughed.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m tired.” Tired of trying to figure out what to do next, that was.

  Suddenly, Mom peeked into the family room. I hadn’t even heard her car pull up the driveway. Or the click of her heels as she headed into the house.

  “Are you coming down with something?” she asked, placing the back of her hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel warm, Kate.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, which wasn’t exactly true.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  I nodded my head emphatically.

  “Let’s just keep an eye on things,” she said in the quiet voice she uses when her voice is strained at the end of a long day.

  After Mom changed into her comfortable clothes and I set the table, it was time to eat. And for me to face the jury, aka my parents.

  Mom complimented Dad on the chicken. “You roasted it perfectly,” she said. “Oh, and you made cauliflower rice. Thank you, honey. My fitness boot camp ladies will be proud.”

  I really wanted this meal to speed up so I could get the bad part over with.

  My parents did their usual routine, asking about everyone’s day.

  Mom asked Dad how things went at work. Since Dad’s a therapist, he can’t give away details about his patients. But he can give an overview.

  When Dad turned to Mom and asked about her day, she looked a little pale. “It was great,” she said, though her voice sounded tired. “I think our third-grade team is really onto something special with their cross-curricular use of pumpkins for everything from math to social studies. And the Fall Festival is shaping up. But—” Mom blinked. She massaged her forehead. “I’ve got a headache. It started in the middle of the faculty meeting. I should have grabbed something for it. But I didn’t.” She winced. “I think it’s getting worse. It’s all the budget stuff at school coupled with the Fall Festival planning.”

  “The Fall Festival!” cried Liam. “Can we go! Can we?”

  “Of course,” said Dad, “but right now let’s use our inside voice. Mom’s not feeling so great.”

  Mom winced, almost apologetically.

  I wasn’t the one not feeling well. It was Mom.

  Dad immediately got up to dim the lights. “Honey, I’m sorry. You should have told me.” He turned to look at me and Liam. “Be right back. I’m getting your mother something.” He went upstairs and returned with a couple of Tylenol. “Here you go.”

  Mom took the medicine and washed it down with a sip of water. “Thank you,” she said with a grateful but strained smile.

  “How was your day, Kate?” Dad said, turning to me. “I know Liam had a good day.”

  “Yeah, I build-ed six X-wing fighters,” said Liam, shoveling a giant helping of cauliflower rice into his mouth.

  “Built,” corrected Mom softly, in her headache voice.

  “Yeah, that,” said Liam.

  “Good,” said Dad. “I’m glad you are creating a fleet. Maybe we have an aerospace engineer on our hands. As well as a chemist.” Dad flicked his eyes at me. He looked proud.

  “Okay, Kate. Give us your report.”

  So I told my family about all the best parts, only quickly mentioning the Fall Science Challenge.

  “Tell us more about how the Fall Science Challenge went,” said Mom. “Did it all work out okay?” She emphasized the phrase ‘work out’ in a weird way.

  I felt uneasy as she steepled her fingers.

  But no, I told myself. She was just curious. My parents are always curious about me. I felt bad that she was trying so hard to be a good mom while she wasn’t feeling well.

  “Yes,” said Dad. “We want to hear what happened.”

  Only just a little bit of pressure. Great.

  “I heard that Ms. Daly knocked herself out with the challenges this year,” continued Mom. “But that maybe there was a little more to it than normal.”

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax. “The Science Challenge today was amazing,” I said, pausing. Did Mom know? Did Dad? They certainly weren’t acting like it. They both were semi-smiling.

  “So what did you do?” pressed Liam. He pointed to my parents. “Terri and Greg want to know.”

  Mom cleared her throat in disapproval.

  “Call us Mom and Dad,” said Dad patiently. “Only friends should use our first names.”

  “And don’t point,” Mom added.

  Uh-oh. This wasn�
��t shaping up well. This meant I had to focus on positive things. And shift the family mood.

  So I told everyone about the Ghost and the out-of-this-world Moon Rocks. And the glowy Neon Brains, even though my group didn’t have a chance to do that demo.

  “Gosh, Kate, I’m feeling a little bit better,” said Mom, her voice noticeably lighter. “Just hearing about all of this wonderful science you’re doing with Ms. Daly is easing my headache.”

  “I’m glad,” said Dad.

  “Me too,” I said. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  “Oh really?” asked Dad, giving Mom a look.

  “Looks like I’ll need a ride from you tomorrow,” I blurted out. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell them about what had happened. Not when Mom’s headache was just starting to get better. Even Dribble stood nearby wagging his tail, happy that he had finally been fed.

  Things were better! I couldn’t be the one to ruin them.

  “But I thought chemistry club was canceled,” said Mom, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

  “Ah, kind of. Ms. Daly just wanted a bunch of us to sort of stay after school.”

  “Oh, sounds like she has something interesting in store for you,” Dad said, nodding as if that made perfect sense.

  My stomach knotted.

  “When you put your mind to it, you can be such a good helper,” Mom said, smiling at me.

  I just sat there staring at my cauliflower rice and chicken. Actually, I was the one who was a chicken. I was pretty surprised I didn’t start clucking. And then I thought about how cauliflower isn’t rice at all. Instead, it’s pieces of cauliflower that have been cut up to look like rice.

  It’s fake. Just like me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Detention

  Scientific Paper (noun). This is a written report that explains the research a scientist has completed. A report usually consists of an introduction, an experimental section, a results and discussion section, and, most important, a conclusion. Just like with any good movie, you need to see how it ends! Scientists always want to read a good conclusion.