The Super-Secret Science Club: Case of the Disappearing Glass

by S. C. Davis

  But I pride myself on not being a spoiled only child, like Ethan Webb so famously is. Ethan is not exactly anyone's favorite. He's extremely smart, but he's got one of those know-it-all personalities that almost no one can stand. I try not to let him get under my skin, since he’s my friend Julianne’s cousin, but I'm not totally immune either.

  Ethan has only gone to school here since the middle of fifth grade, so he also still has a bit of that “new kid” stigma. His family is quite rich, and he takes any opportunity to casually remind his peers of that. I felt a bit guilty about it, but learning that Ethan was failing a class was somehow…satisfying.

  I can’t say the same for Britta Schwarz, though. I don’t know her well, but she has a certain sweetness about her that makes everyone want to protect her. Seeing how crushed she was about failing made me feel worse for her than I did for myself. She's tiny and timid, skinny and pale, and looks like she could easily break.

  She's from Germany, but her family moved here when she was still a toddler. We've gone to school together since kindergarten. Her parents are well-known environmental activists, and Britta herself is extremely sensitive about all that earthy stuff. I’ve seen her cry over someone stepping on a spider before.

  Come to think of it, that person was Chase Ortiz. As one of the bigger kids with a tough-guy persona, he’s always been a bit of a troublemaker. Chase has always acted “too cool for school”, but despite that front, he's actually really smart.

  He won a regional contest for a book report back in the fifth grade, and the prize was a field trip for our entire class to Washington, D.C. to visit the Library of Congress. He thought it was too lame, so he didn't even go.

  I remember seeing him stand with his other tough-guy friends that day, and as the bus pulled away I could have sworn I saw a bit of longing in his face. Since then, I have always suspected that Chase is a huge fraud. I think he’s a smart, caring guy who is playing the role he thinks he’s supposed to play. But just in case I’m wrong…I hope to never get on his bad side.

  Kind of like I hope to never be on Wes Nguyen’s bad side either. I wouldn’t say he intimidates me. I hardly know him at all. I guess I’m more mystified than anything else. He's always been super nice and polite any time he's spoken to me, but he's really quiet and keeps to himself.

  He's tall and wears dark clothes and hangs out with the punk kids, who avoid anything mainstream. All I really know is that Wes plays the keyboard in a band with some of his friends. They played at Field Day last year. The music was a little harder than I’m used to, but they seemed pretty talented. I was sort of getting into it until I saw Alma giving me a disgusted look.

  “You can’t seriously like this junk, can you?” she said with a crinkled nose. She’s strictly a hip-hop fan, and I usually roll with it, even though my own taste in music is quite diverse.

  “What, this? No way, it’s not even music,” I lied.

  Now, sitting next to Wes in Mr. Gregory’s class as we were learning of our punishment for failing, I smiled a little at the memory, wondering if Wes would be surprised to know I kind of liked his music.

  Oh, right…the group project. I sighed as I snapped back into reality, and Mr. Gregory continued sentencing us.

  “This is your chance to show me that you can solve a problem from the ground up, with very little to go on. This is your chance to use your brain, to think hard, to use trial and error, to think outside of the box, to use good experimentation practices and test theories.”

  This sounded absolutely horrifying. He was looking at the wrong group of kids. There wasn't a Darwin, a Newton, an Einstein, or a Sagan among us.

  “I'm going to give you one small instruction, and you have five weeks to—”

  What? We have to do this for the entire five weeks? The horror! The injustice!

  “—to present to me an answer, and explain it fully,” Mr. Gregory concluded.

  During this whole monologue, while the rest of us seethed with anger, Ethan had maintained an arrogant smile that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the meaning of.

  “Ahem,” squeaked Ethan. Five sets of glaring eyes shot towards him.

  “Oh right, sorry Ethan,” Mr. Gregory said. “Guys, I want to let you know that Ethan is here for a different reason. He’s not failing the class. In fact, he has the highest grade.”

  Jealous huffs escaped from the rest of us.

  “He's going to be sort of a peer advisor to you guys. Now, he's not here to instruct you and don't think he's going to do all the heavy lifting for you. He's simply going to make sure you all have the correct understanding of a concept before you move further into the project.

  “So, thank you Ethan for agreeing to participate. And guys, make sure you show your appreciation to Ethan as well.”

  I found myself snarling at Ethan's self-congratulatory smirk, but Mr. Gregory interrupted my dark thoughts.

  “Let's get down to business.” He stepped away from the board to reveal what he had written behind him.

  Task: Make something disappear.

  Rules: You cannot move it, it must still be in place, you cannot hide it behind a solid object, and it must remain in its original form.

  “Take a second and write this down,” Mr. Gregory said. We all rolled our eyes and pulled out our smartphones to snap a picture of the board.

  “Oh that reminds me,” Mr. Gregory said. “I've Googled every possible combination of 'how to make something disappear,' so don't even think about it. I know exactly what results will turn up for you, so you’ve gotta come up with something original.”

  There were more groans of displeasure.

  “To make sure you're giving it your all,” he continued, “I'm giving you a time limit. You must meet six times, for one hour. I reserve the right to reject any of your submissions if I think it isn't original enough or that you didn't put in enough effort. The project is due on October sixteenth.”

  The complaints shot out from each of us and tumbled over one another.

  “What?”

  “That's not fair!”

  “You could reject anything we do if you wanted to!”

  “How are we supposed to know what you would consider original?”

  “This is going to take up all my free time!”

  “You'll be fine!” Mr. Gregory said, brushing aside the complaints. “I've got faith in all of you. You're free to head to lunch now. Here's a note for each of you if you end up needing extra time to eat.

  “By the way, I'm not going to organize any time for you guys to work on this project, so it's entirely up to you to coordinate amongst yourselves. You're free to use this classroom any time between classes or after school. I've loaned Ethan a key.”

  Another smirk from our so-called “peer advisor.” No one cares you have a stupid key to the science classroom, Ethan, I thought to myself.

  Mr. Gregory pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out a small cooler and headed for the door. His mood had brightened, probably because he started thinking about his lunch.

  “You guys are gonna crush this! You'll have fun! And heck, even if you don't, it's better than failing class, right?” he said as he waltzed out of the classroom.

  I wasn’t sure whether he was mocking us or if he really was that positive, but either way I had to fight the urge to stick out my foot and trip him as he walked past. Mr. Gregory is one of those teachers whom you can't help but like, but at this particular moment, he only had one fan in the classroom, who sat twirling a brass key between his fingers.

  “No one cares you have a stupid key to the science classroom, Ethan,” Chase said as he stormed out of the room and headed for the cafeteria. I had to laugh at that. I had been in school with Chase since the third grade. We probably had never exchanged more than a few words, and now we were sharing thoughts.

  Funny, how misery brings strangers together.

  Chapter 4

  “Just Jenna”

  WE DECIDED TO HOLD our first project mee
ting after school the day after “the notice.” After Chase had hastily left for the cafeteria, the rest of us followed. It was Ethan who came around to each of us in the cafeteria afterwards.

  “Like Mr. Gregory said, it's on you guys to plan your meetings, but I'll do you the favor just this one time of scheduling the first meeting. Tomorrow after school in the science room, okay?”

  I'm pretty sure he fed the same line to each of us, as he worked his way around to each of our tables. I imagine we were pretty easy to find, since the entire seventh grade sat at the exact same tables every day, with the same group of kids.

  For instance, Alma and I always sat with Audrey Spencer, Ashton Brown, and Julianne Maynard at the end of the long table by the door. People called us “the A.J.s” since all of our names started with A or J. We pretended to hate the nickname, but secretly we all loved it.

  “Thanks Ethan,” I said as he started heading for Britta’s table nearby. I didn’t try to hide my sarcasm, but I don’t think he even noticed. He was super focused on his mission.

  “What is this all about?” Alma said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

  I hesitated to respond. Alma always felt the need to be protective over me, like she was a big sister or my bodyguard or something. I knew it was out of love, but sometimes it got annoying. Mostly because it also included cracking down on me if I wasn't giving something my best, so I wasn't looking forward to telling her I was failing science.

  I decided to downplay it. “I need to get my grade up in science, so Mr. Gregory is letting some of us work on an extra credit project. Hey, anyone want my fruit cup? I don't think I have time to eat it.”

  My attempt at changing the subject was unsuccessful.

  “Whoa whoa, hold the phone,” Alma said. “Just how much do you need to get your grade up?” An awkward silence hung between us as I desperately tried to think of a good lie, but I came up empty.

  “From an F to…not an F,” I responded, staring down into my lunch bag.

  Alma slammed her palms onto the table, leaned forward and stared at me wide-eyed.

  “You're failing? What the heck, Jenna! Wait a minute; this is about how weird you've been acting, isn't it? You're always in some other world, and you should be paying attention to what's going on in front of you.”

  Alma's face was getting more red as she spoke. The other girls just exchanged glances with raised eyebrows. They didn't dare interrupt.

  “Alma, relax. It's fine, there are six of us working on the project and Ethan is one of them. He’s smart. I'm sure we'll get it done quickly, and I'll be passing science in no time,” I said, trying to calm Alma's rage.

  “That's not the point. You shouldn't even have to be doing extra credit to keep from failing, Jenna. You've always rocked science, better than any of us at this table.

  “That's it; I'm talking to my Aunt Gretchen. She's a psychologist, she'll figure out your depression or whatever this is about.” She said it as if she had all but made the appointment for me.

  “No!” I said as I practically dived across the table and grabbed Alma's wrists. I was really getting sick of all the suggestions that something was wrong with me. Why did everyone assume I was some nutcase all of the sudden?

  “No, just…just give me a little more time and I'll fix it. Jeez, why does everyone think I have a mental illness or something? I just need to refocus. Let me handle it,” I said.

  The truth is, I was well aware of my lack of focus. I wouldn't say I was too smart for my classes, but maybe I was just bored, like my dad said. Lately I was feeling like my life was a little...dull. Too average, perhaps.

  I was tired of being “Just Jenna”. I wanted some excitement and adventure. But at Brisby Middle School, I just didn't see that happening anytime soon. Unless...

  “Jenna!” Alma interrupted as I started to slip into yet another daydream. “Did you hear me? I said I'd give you two weeks to snap out of it, and then I'm taking over, got it? Someone's gotta look out for you if you won't.”

  The bell rang, and the cafeteria echoed with a flurry of screeching chairs and lunch trays slapping onto the rack. I usually take Alma’s lectures with a grain of salt, but this time I felt myself on the verge of tears. I was starting to get worried. What if something really was wrong with me?

  Before the tears could start, I mumbled something under my breath about taking care of the focus thing, then dashed out into the hall and made my escape.

  Chapter 5

  How to Make Something Disappear

  IT WAS A TUESDAY after school when we held our first meeting for the science project. It was about three o'clock, and out the window we could hear the laughing and shrieking of the other kids waiting at the bus loop or jumping into their parents' cars.

  On this particular afternoon, I tried not to think about home as my stomach growled and my eyelids drooped. On most days, I walk home from school. I’ve always loved the fact that our house is right downtown and close to everything in the small but charming bayside town of Bradbury.

  When I get home, my parents are still at work, so it’s my job to take our beagle, Parsley, on a walk around the block. When I get back, I grab a soda and some pretzels from the kitchen and plop down onto the couch with Parsley to watch Food Network, my guilty pleasure, until Mom gets home.

  But because I had let my mind slip one too many times in class, I was paying the price now. No soda, pretzels, or Food Network for me this afternoon.

  At first we all sat in our usual desks in the science classroom. Habit, I guess. I expected Ethan to take charge and kick things off, despite his insistence that he was “only guiding, not leading”. But it was Alexandra who made the first move. She turned to face the rest of us.

  “Well,” she said with a nervous laugh, “how do we want to do this?”

  We all kind of looked around at each other, hoping someone had figured it out already or at least had a plan in mind. But I hadn’t given it a single thought, and it wasn’t looking like the rest of them had, either.

  Since Alexandra had been the first to speak up, she must have felt obligated to continue to carry the conversation. “Okay, well... what if we start by...I dunno, ruling out some things? Maybe narrow down our choices on what we could do.”

  Ethan sat at the front at Mr. Gregory's desk, to our annoyance. He grinned and nodded subtly as if to say, “Yes my innocent little pupils, I have taught you well.” Ugh.

  “Good idea, Alex,” Britta said as she perked up in her chair. I saw Alexandra cringe a little bit; even I knew that she despised being called “Alex”. She let it go, though. Britta always got away with anything.

  “We should start with the rules Mr. Gregory gave, and write down all the things we know we can't do,” Britta said.

  We each took out our phones to open up the photos we had snapped the day before of the white board with the rules written on it.

  “Can't move it, or get rid of it I guess. Can't hide it behind anything, and can't change its form,” Chase read out loud, sighing loudly to make it clear how much he didn't want to be here. I happened to feel the same way.

  “So basically, we have to make something disappear without making it disappear?” I complained, studying the picture on my own phone.

  Alexandra went to the white board, uncapped a red dry-erase marker, and began copying down the rules.

  “So for each of these rules let's name some things we can't do,” she said with her back to us.

  “Well, the first one kind of explains itself, right? We can't take the thing and make it disappear by moving it somewhere else. It has to stay stationary,” Chase observed. I was actually a little surprised to see him so engaged right up front.

  “Okay. Self-ex-plan-a-tor-y,” Alexandra said, one syllable at a time as she wrote the words under the first rule. “What about the second one? Also pretty self-explanatory, right?” she continued.

  We nodded and mumbled in agreement.

  “The third is maybe the one that's a little l
ess obvious. Can't change its form,” she said, staring thoughtfully at the words on the board as she tapped the marker on her chin.

  “Like we can't make a liquid evaporate into gas and stuff,” a quiet voice said from behind us. We all turned to look at Wes.

  “Yeah. Great point. Exactly,” we said in unison, almost as if we feared we might not hear a peep from him again if we didn't show extreme gratitude and encouragement of his contribution.

  Alexandra turned to write “no liquid evaporation” under the third rule.

  “No melting anything either,” Ethan interjected.

  “Well if we melted something, we would still be able to see it, so it wouldn't have disappeared anyway,” Chase argued, annoyed at the unwanted suggestion.

  Ethan shuffled nervously in his chair and looked down at the floor. The rest of us continued brainstorming. Well, that’s not exactly true for me. The mention of melting got me thinking about making some chocolate-covered pretzels when I got home. After a few minutes of drooling, my salty-sweet daydream was disturbed when Ethan excused himself to go to the bathroom.

  “I'm thinking we find a way to make him disappear,” suggested Wes, as soon as Ethan was out of earshot.

  “Or I can just find a way to make that 'holier-than-thou' attitude disappear,” said Chase as he flexed his muscles and rolled up his sleeves. We laughed at that, but I wondered for a second if he might be serious.

  “Guys,” said Britta as she tried to stifle her own laughter, “we have to figure out how to tolerate him for the next five weeks. Maybe once he gets over the high of being Mr. Gregory's 'chosen one' he might not be so bad.”

  “Not likely,” I said, but Britta’s attempt to be the peace-maker was endearing.