Everybody Bugs Out (11 page)

chapter eighteen

snickers packs a punch

I
didn't know whether or not to tell Rachel about Hannah's news because I didn't want to seem gossipy, and I knew it was wrong to talk about people behind their backs, but luckily (for me, anyway) the information spread fast. The big Hannah-and-Erik breakup was all anyone could talk about at lunch the next day. And strangely no one seemed more upset than Rachel.

“Wait, isn't this good news?” I asked.

“It's great news that they broke up,” said Rachel. “And rotten news that I already have a date for the dance.”

“But last week you said Caleb was cute,” said Claire. “And that you might be interested.”

“
Maybe
is what I said,” Rachel clarified. “But now that Erik is single I know for sure. I'd much rather go with him. You guys don't think I could cancel on Caleb?”

“No way,” Yumi said, looking up from her phone. “The dance is this Saturday. You can't ditch him for someone else. That would be cruel.”

“And anyway, what if Erik says no?” asked Claire.

“Good point,” said Rachel. “I'd have to ask him before I dumped Caleb.”

“That's wrong,” I told her. “Caleb's a good guy. You said so yourself.”

“I know, I know,” said Rachel. “Caleb would be perfect if it weren't for Erik. But you can't help who you like.”

Tell me about it!

I didn't realize I was staring at Claire until she turned to me and asked, “Is everything okay, Annabelle? Because you're acting weird, again.”

“Again?” I asked.

And before Claire had a chance to tell me what she was talking about, Emma hurried over and sat down next to me. “Sorry I'm late,” she said, “but you'll never guess what happened.”

“Erik and Hannah?” asked Rachel. “We already know.”

“No, I'm talking about Phil. His hamster died!”

“Oh no!” said Rachel.

“That's terrible!” cried Yumi. “What happened?”

Emma blinked back tears as she explained. “Einstein broke into his food supply—you know, all the junk food that Phil had been feeding him for his science experiment. And he ate it all and it was just too much for his tiny tummy. So basically, he gorged himself to death.”

“Wait, you mean his stomach exploded?” I asked.

“Yes,” Emma cried. “And I feel so bad. I mean, it's sad enough to lose your favorite pet, but poor Phil feels like it's all his fault, and now he doesn't even have a science project and he doesn't know what to do.”

“Bummer,” said Rachel.

“Unless we let him join our team,” Emma added quickly.

“Wait, what?” Rachel put down her sandwich. “We can't be partners with Phil. Not after you asked him to work with you ages ago and he said no. It's not fair. We've already worked so hard! And we're almost done.”

Emma bit her bottom lip.

“Tell me you didn't offer,” said Rachel.

“I didn't have to because he asked,” said Emma.

“Tell me you didn't say yes.”

“Of course not,” said Emma. “The science fair is only three days away and we're mostly done. But when I explained that to him, he accused me of being a lousy girlfriend. And also? He said that as a future great scientist of America, I should learn how to cooperate better with other people.”

“He seemed to think differently a few weeks ago,” said Rachel. “When he was so excited about beating us.”

“That's exactly what I told him, but it didn't go over so well. He thinks I'm too competitive.”

“He's the competitive one,” said Rachel.

“Are you guys still together?” asked Yumi.

“And are you still going to the dance?” Claire asked.

“Yes and yes,” Emma replied, although she didn't sound excited about either prospect.

She unpacked her lunch and lined it up in front of her—apple juice, peanut butter crackers, turkey avocado wrap, and vanilla wafer cookies all in a row. “I told Phil he should enter anyway. He's got Einstein on video and he could still bring in the maze. Even without the live demonstration it's still very impressive. And everyone knows you're supposed to show your entire methodology—even big mistakes. That's what real scientists do. But Phil is convinced that he's not going to win first prize with a failed experiment, so he's going to start from scratch.”

“Poor Einstein,” I said.

“Death by Snickers.” Rachel shuddered.

“If it weren't so sad it would almost be funny,” Yumi said.

“Almost,” Emma replied, “but not quite.”

chapter nineteen

check out the competition

T
wo days later Oliver, Tobias, and I put the final touches on our Backyard Bugs project. We'd discovered that certain bugs, like ants and roly-polies, don't seem to care about colors, while others, like bumblebees and ladybugs, prefer blue. However, once we added sugar water to the mix, everything went out the window. Sugar water attracted bugs from everywhere, regardless of the color paper we used or even if we used paper at all. This we figured out after Tobias tripped and spilled a whole glass of our solution in the grass in between the yellow and blue pages. Everything swarmed.

He wanted to pretend it never happened, but I felt like it was important to include the mistake. And since it was my job to write out all of our conclusions, I won.

By the time we finished putting everything together, our project was way too big and bulky to transport on foot, so my mom gave us a ride back to school on Thursday evening.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” she asked as she pulled into the parking lot.

I'd already made her promise not to embarrass me on the ride over, so really it was the first thing she'd said besides, “Hello, Oliver and Tobias—it's very nice to meet you both.” (Just like we'd practiced.)

“Just wait for us here,” I said, adding, “please.”

She smiled at me. “No problem. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Stevens,” Oliver and Tobias both said as they scooted out of the car.

Luckily, we got a great table in the front corner of the room. Once we finished setting everything up, we stood back and admired our work. And I know it seems braggy to admit this, but I'm going to do it anyway. Our display was awesome.

All of our steps were written out, neatly, and the lines on our color-coded graph were perfectly straight. But what really made our project amazing were Oliver's drawings—complete with each bugs' proper scientific name. And as a bonus, we'd listed a bunch of random bug facts, too.

Here are some of my favorites:

Insects have been on this earth for 300 million years.

Lightning bugs and fireflies are actually beetles.

Ants can lift fifty times their weight.

After being decapitated, a cockroach head might stay alive for up to twelve hours.

Actually, Tobias made us include that last one, but we refused to let him test out the theory.

“This rocks,” said Oliver.

“Duh!” Tobias replied.

“Let's check out the competition,” I said, heading to the table next to us.

Monique and Lani had created their own paper out of recycled pizza boxes. They'd also figured out that if Birchwood Middle School canceled its required reading program, they could save five trees a year. It was an interesting idea, but their paper looked pretty lumpy and it also had grease stains. Plus, they only used two poster boards to describe their project (we'd used five). They didn't have any bonus material, either. Not to be overly critical.

The next three projects we passed were also on recycling.

“I told you all that environmental stuff was way too trendy,” Tobias whispered as we stood in front of a pile of tin cans that had been turned into a sculpture of the Eiffel Tower.

Oliver leaned in close and whispered, “Is that even science?”

Neither Tobias nor I had an answer, and I doubted the judges would, either.

So far so good! On the other side of the gym, Emma and Rachel proved that half the food in our cafeteria is as fattening and as void of nutrients as a typical Happy Meal from McDonald's. Go Birchwood! Their whole project looked so impressive, I got nervous. But then I realized that if I couldn't win, I certainly wanted my friends to.

“Are you sure this is all true?” asked Tobias, pointing to their calorie graph.

“Positive,” said Emma. “I quadruple-checked every single calculation.”

“But how can a salad have the same amount of calories as a hamburger?” he asked.

“Cheese and bacon bits and ranch dressing,” Rachel replied.

“Yum!” said Tobias as we moved onto the next project.

Jonathan had built an electric car with a remote control.

Jesse and Taylor made a clock out of a potato, which they'd decked out with pink Barbie heels and a little blond wig. I'm not sure why.

When we passed the fourth model volcano, Oliver punched Tobias in the arm and said, “Told you that was a dumb idea.”

“There are some great projects here,” I said. “But I think we still have a—”

Before I had a chance to say “chance,” I saw the craziest, most elaborate and impressive science fair project in the entire gym.
Night Vision in Birds of Prey
read the fancy calligraphy sign. And it had everything—charts and graphs and complicated-looking equations and illustrations, plus five scary-looking birds, all carved out of soapstone and hand painted with such meticulous detail, they looked ready to take flight. Oh, and special glasses that allowed you to see like an eagle.

“I think you spoke too soon,” Tobias whispered.

Oliver stared at the hawk and shivered. “That thing totally creeps me out.”

I hopped to the right and left of the bird. “Its eyes follow you wherever you move.”

“Intense,” said Oliver.

The entire project seemed not just perfect but perfectly brilliant.

“Whoever did this is gonna win,” said Tobias.

“I'll be sure to send you a postcard from Space Camp,” someone said from behind us. “Or not.”

I turned around to find myself face-to-face with Emma's boyfriend, Phil.

“This is yours?” I asked.

Phil nodded. “Yup.”

“It's awesome,” said Tobias, giving him a high five.

“Thanks,” said Phil. “It took forever, carving and painting all those statues.”

“You used oil paints, right?” asked Oliver. “Never mind, dumb question.” He moved closer to the birds. “It's obviously oil work, but I can't tell if you used brushes or paint markers.”

Phil hesitated.

“So which is it?” Oliver asked.

“Oh. Um, I don't remember,” Phil answered.

Oliver looked at him like he was crazy. “What do you mean, you don't remember?”

“Kidding,” said Phil—although none of us (including him) laughed. “Markers.”

“Whenever I use paint markers, I can't get that kind of tiny detail just right—but this looks amazing,” said Oliver. “What kind are they?”

“My mom bought them. So, uh, I don't really know,” Phil told us. “Any more questions, or are you done giving me the third degree?”

“Sorry, dude!” Oliver backed away with his hands up. “Didn't mean to grill you. Best of luck. We'd better get going. Annabelle's mom is waiting in the car.”

Oliver took off and Tobias followed him, but I hung back because something nagged at me.

Staring at Phil's project, knowing it was Phil's, well, something didn't seem right. I had this weird feeling, like maybe he wasn't being completely honest.

Not about the markers—which seemed suspicious enough—but about his whole entire project.

According to Emma, he'd only just started working on it a few days ago. Yet everything in front of me was so, well, perfect. It didn't seem possible that anyone could accomplish so much in so short a time. Not even someone as brainy and driven as Phil.

I wanted to ask him more questions but also knew that I couldn't, really—not when I wasn't supposed to know about Phil's original hamster-maze project in the first place. He'd sworn Emma to secrecy. And she'd only told me and my friends about it after swearing us to secrecy.

This was classified information squared.

But I couldn't just walk away quietly, like I didn't have a gazillion questions on the tip of my tongue. So finally I said, “When did you start working on this?”

Phil moved his hawk an inch to the left. “Six weeks ago—just like everyone else.”

“Really?”

He glared at me, seemingly annoyed that I was hanging around his project. But I didn't move. I couldn't.

“Shouldn't you be heading back to your own table?” he asked finally.

“Yeah, but … um …” Finally I just blurted it out. “What about Einstein?”

“He's dead,” Phil said flatly.

“I know.” I took a deep breath. I was talking about Phil's maze project but didn't want to say so. Not when he seemed so upset. “I'm really sorry.”

Phil shrugged and stared at his bird carvings. “I had to buy a special metal lockbox when I buried him in my backyard, because if I put him in a regular old shoebox, the coyotes might've dug him up, and I couldn't let that happen. Not after everything he'd been through.”

“That stinks,” I said. “Not about the box. I mean about him dying.”

“Yeah. I know.”

I hesitated for a moment, hoping that Phil would come clean, or offer up some sort of explanation, because I wanted to believe him—I truly did. But none came. So finally I just turned around and walked away.

By the time I got back to my table, I found Rachel pacing back and forth in front of it. “Where have you been?” she asked.

“Actually I was just over at Phil's and—”

Rachel cut me off. “You'll never guess what happened!”

“His project, right?” I asked, relieved that I wasn't the only one who thought something seemed fishy.

“What are you talking about?” asked Rachel.

“Nothing,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just the fact that Caleb dumped me.”

“He did?” I asked. “I'm so sorry, Rach. But wait—how is that possible when you weren't even going out?”

“I mean he dumped me as his date for the dance.”

“But the dance is tomorrow night!” I cried. “Can he even do that?”

Rachel nodded. “He can and he did. It's because he thinks he's my second choice and that I only agreed to go to the dance with him because the boy I really liked had a girlfriend.”

I didn't remind Rachel that this was, in fact, the case. I didn't have to because Tobias did it for me.

“You mean Erik?” he asked.

Rachel spun around and gasped. “Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's not polite to eavesdrop?”

“Um, yeah. That's why I'm not eavesdropping,” Tobias replied. “You just happen to be standing right in front of our project. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, and you're totally loud.”

Rachel paused, seemingly taken aback. But as usual, she recovered quickly. “Well, how do you know about Erik? What did Annabelle tell you?”

“Nothing!” I promised. “We have never discussed your crush on—whoops!” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Never mind.”

“Oh, please,” said Tobias. “Annabelle never said a word. The entire sixth grade knows that Caleb is your second choice because it's all you've been talking about.”

“That's not true!” said Rachel.

Tobias raised his eyebrows. “Then how come I overheard you complaining about him during math class last week?”

“You complained about him at the Bowl-A-Rama, too,” said Oliver. “You told Claire that even though you were having fun, you wished Caleb could be more like Erik.”

“You guys weren't supposed to hear that!” said Rachel. “I even whispered.”

“You're kind of a loud whisperer,” said Oliver.

“I am?” asked Rachel.

“Yeah,” said Oliver. “And it was mean.”

“He wasn't supposed to take it personally. He wasn't even supposed to hear!”

“Well, he did on both counts. And how could he not take it personally? Guys have feelings, too,” said Oliver.

“Yeah!” said Tobias. “What do you think we are, dogs?”

Rachel's eyes widened with panic. She looked at me and I just shrugged.

Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me away from my lab partners. “This is terrible,” she whispered fiercely (and loudly). “I can't go to the dance alone.”

“You won't be alone,” I said. “We're all going.”

“I mean, I can't go dateless,” Rachel said.

“Why not? I am and so is Yumi. You're the one who said that it doesn't really matter—that the dance will be super-fun no matter what.”

“Well, of course I said that,” said Rachel. “But only because I didn't want you guys feeling bad. Anyway, it's one thing to choose to go solo and quite another to be ditched by a guy.”

“We'll still have fun.” I couldn't believe I was trying to get Rachel excited for a dance I dreaded going to. “Maybe you could still ask Erik, since he's single.”

“Erik isn't going to the dance. That's why Hannah broke up with him.”

“How do you always know what's going on?” I wondered.

Rachel shrugged. “I don't always know. But in this case, my brother told me. He's friends with Caleb's brother, and they're all going snowboarding up at Mammoth this weekend. That's why Hannah got so mad. All this time she figured Erik was waiting for the right moment to ask her to the dance, when actually he never intended on going in the first place. And he didn't even bother telling her.”

“That's crazy,” I said.

“You guys are way too obsessed with this dance,” said Tobias, wandering over to where we stood. “I told you it was stupid.”

“Okay, now you're totally eavesdropping!” Rachel yelled.

“And you're totally loud!” Tobias replied.

Just then Mr. Hardis, our school principal, announced that it was time to clear out of the gym. Rachel ran back to her project to make sure it was ready for judging, and we headed out to the parking lot and woke my mom up from her nap so she could drive everyone home.

I was quiet during the whole ride, not because I was mortified by my mom falling asleep with her mouth wide open—well, not
only
for that reason—but because I couldn't take my mind off Phil.