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

by S. C. Davis

  “Wait a second. I might have an idea. A kind of messed-up one, but still an idea,” Chase said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  “Mr. Gregory says we have to meet at least six times, right? What if we took on our own project-within-a-project? What if we made a goal of cracking Ethan over the next five meetings?

  “We could spend most of the meetings buttering him up and making him feel like he's our best friend. Then, when it's getting close to the deadline, we could easily convince him to just tell us what to do for the project!

  “Then we don't have to do all this boring thinking just to have our ideas shot down. Whatever Ethan would come up with I'm sure would be something Mr. Gregory would accept as original enough.”

  No one wanted to be the first to respond. Were we bad kids if we all admitted we loved the idea? Were we goody-two-shoes if we rejected it? Before anyone could speak up, Ethan walked back into the classroom.

  “All right, break's over guys. I'm sure you came up with your project while I was gone, right? No? Surprise, surprise,” he said sarcastically as he sat back at Mr. Gregory's desk and kicked up his feet.

  The rest of us exchanged glances, and with five faint smiles and five tiny nods, we all knew: “Project Crack Ethan” was on.

  Chapter 6

  “Project Crack Ethan”

  WE HAD A QUICK HUDDLE after Ethan's mother picked him up from our first meeting. The plan was to each find out something that Ethan liked, try to learn about that topic, and then strike up conversation about it during our after-school meetings.

  Our idea was that we could get Ethan so interested in these conversations that he would forget to hound us about getting the science project done. After a few meetings, he would feel like we were all such great friends that he wouldn't want to say “no” when we asked him to help us finish our project.

  The hard part was going to be finding out what kinds of things he liked. He didn't really have any friends, so there was no one we could ask. It was starting to look like we would have to talk to him directly.

  I sat beside Ethan in English; not by choice but by assignment. I decided that the next day in class I would try to strike up conversation and see what I could figure out.

  Turns out I didn't have to start a conversation. It seemed Ethan felt that working on an after-school project together meant we had some secret bond that no one else would understand.

  As soon as I sat down in class that morning, he turned to me and said, “Great meeting last night, right?”

  What a dumb thing to say. He probably sat there all morning trying to think of something cool to say about the meeting, and that's the best he could come up with. I started to make a face and give one of my typical sarcastic responses, but I thought better of it. Instead, I smiled and nodded.

  “Yeah, really great. Looks like it will be an, uh…interesting project for sure,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

  Since people were still trickling into the classroom, and Mrs. Tanner hadn't shushed us yet, I decided now was as good a time as any to dig for some intel on Ethan’s interests.

  “So, what did you do when you got home last night? Anything fun?” I said, but as soon as I said it I regretted it. It seemed a bit personal. I didn't want Ethan to get the wrong idea.

  Argh! Why didn't I just ask him about something school-related? I thought.

  He looked pretty surprised that I had asked, but also flattered. Then he looked embarrassed.

  “Well, not a whole lot. I ate dinner with my sister, then I got in a little piano practice before it was time to get ready for bed.”

  I had to fake a sneeze to keep from laughing. I blew my nose into a tissue, and then I rallied.

  “Huh, that's cool, I didn't know you played piano,” I said, my voice cracking. “What kind of music do you play?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer already.

  “Mostly classical. When I play casually, like after school, it's usually a short prelude, or maybe a nocturne to wind down for the night. Long-term, though, I'm working on Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 3, which I hope to perform in the December recital. Last year I did Beethoven's Moonlight—”

  Mrs. Tanner was my new best friend at that moment, as she turned away from the white board and shouted in her usual opening greeting.

  “Okay class, sit down,” Mrs. Tanner’s voice boomed, drowning out Ethan’s. “We've got a lot of material to cover today, as we begin our poetry unit.”

  Mrs. Tanner, a husky woman, isn’t what you’d usually picture for an English teacher. She seems more suited for P.E., with her broad shoulders and loud voice.

  Even more surprising is her love of poetry, but her eyes glimmered in excitement as she announced the new topic. When she heard Ethan still whispering to me about piano, the twinkles in her eyes turned into daggers.

  “Mr. Webb! Is there something you’d like to say about poetry? Perhaps you’d like to recite your favorite one? I’m sure a classy gentleman such as yourself has plenty memorized.”

  The class giggled and Ethan’s face turned a shade of crimson. For a moment I pitied him. I felt like it was half my fault, being the one who asked him for the information.

  “No, ma’am,” he said, staring at the floor.

  Once Mrs. Tanner turned away and resumed her lesson I smiled at Ethan and shrugged in a half-apology. At the end of class, I made a point to rush out before he had a chance to pick up where he had left off with the piano conversation.

  As I walked briskly toward history class, I pulled out my science notebook and opened to the last sheet where I jotted down “classical piano”. I shook my head and laughed at how typical that was, but I was satisfied at my first successful collection of intelligence for “Project Crack Ethan”.

  Chapter 7

  Aliens and Pianos

  WE HAD DECIDED TO have our second meeting on Thursday, so Wednesday night I did some research on classical piano to prepare for distracting Ethan. I fell asleep on my laptop at my desk, until my mom came in around eight o'clock.

  “Jenna, wake up. Are you working on homework? You ‘d better finish it if you're already getting sleepy.”

  I didn't have time to close my browser window, so my mom saw that I was reading a Wikipedia article about classical piano. She scrunched her face up in curiosity.

  “What are you studying that for? Are you interested in music all of the sudden?”

  It might sound like she was teasing me, but she really wasn't. In fact, she was probably hoping I would say “yes”. She always told me she wished she had taken music lessons as a child, but her parents never had the money for that sort of thing. We did, so she reminded me every so often that I could take a lesson if I wanted to.

  I never became interested in it, though. I loved listening to music, but never felt a desire to make it. I could sense Mom’s disappointment, but she never made it obvious.

  “She’s just trying to live vicariously through you. Don’t worry about it,” Alma said once, after I was feeling especially guilty about rejecting Mom’s offer to buy me a starter guitar. As always, I assumed Alma was right.

  After Mom asked about the Wikipedia article, I sat up groggily, trying to think through the fog about how to answer. I definitely didn't want to tell Mom about “Project Crack Ethan”, but I also didn't want to lie and say I was suddenly interested in music myself. I made a quick decision to only sort of lie about it.

  “No, not really, but there's this boy in one of my classes that plays. I thought I would just read up about it a little. In case he ever wanted to have a conversation about it or something.”

  I hesitantly glanced up at her to see her reaction. I knew right away what assumption she was going to make, but I was willing to take the hit.

  “Ohhhh....” Mom said, her voice fluctuating up and down in pitch. A smiled curled onto her face, and she plopped down onto the edge of my bed as if I had just invited her to have a “woman-to-woman” conversation, as she called them. That was most decidedly
not what I wanted at the moment.

  “Mom,” I whined, “it's nothing. I don't want you to get all worked up about it. I just found out he played, I thought that was interesting, so I wanted to just…hear a sample of what that kind of music sounds like or something. No big deal, okay?”

  She winked as if to say “your secret's safe with me”, and she stood up and started to walk out. At least she hadn't asked his name; then I would have had to lie for real. There's no way I would have given her Ethan Webb's name. Mom can be pretty chatty with her girlfriends, and most of them are my classmates’ moms.

  “He might be impressed if you knew what the four main time periods of classical music categories are,” Mom said with a sly smile as she gently closed my bedroom door. “Just a suggestion. Don't forget to do your real homework, too.”

  While slightly annoyed with my mother, I was pretty grateful for the tip. That at least gave me a topic to focus on. I spent the rest of the evening researching, and felt ready to bluff on the topic for the meeting the next day.

  -----

  Day one of “Project Crack Ethan” went just as we had planned. As soon as we pretended to start brainstorming for the science project, Chase brilliantly kicked things off.

  “Did you guys see the season finale of Alien Planet Battles? Oh man, was that crazy or what?”

  Chase had dark circles under his eyes, despite his apparent energy. My guess is that he stayed up all night watching the entire season of Alien Planet Battles, whatever that was. I had to hand it to him; I was impressed at the dedication. At the mention of the show Alexandra perked up a bit, and then she immediately blushed.

  “Um…I saw it. I actually love that show,” she said with a sheepish laugh. Chase shot her a look that said, “If I had known that, I would have let you have this conversation with Ethan and I could have gotten some sleep last night!”

  Ethan, of course, lit up like a Christmas tree and engaged the other two in a twenty-minute debate about whether or not Captain so-and-so is really dead, or if he's just joined the whatever tribe on the next planet.

  Our plan was working. Once the Aliens conversation began to wrap up, I figured I had better jump in before Ethan had a chance to snap back into science mode.

  “You guys don't mind a little background music, do you?” I said to no one in particular as I set my phone on the desk and pressed play. The music immediately jerked Ethan's attention away.

  “That's Liszt's Sonata in B Minor,” he said, as if he were surprised anyone else in the world had ever heard it at all.

  “Jenna, I didn't realize you were into this stuff. But, of course, we never did get to finish our conversation about it yesterday. So, tell me then, who’s your favorite composer?” he asked excitedly.

  I felt a slight panic. Sure, I could name off a few composers, but I knew he was going to want to know more. He was going to find out I was bluffing. Then, out of nowhere, Wes came to my rescue.

  “I don't know about you guys, but I've always admired Ligeti. He totally reinvented and modernized orchestra piano, while at the same time keeping up the influence of the ‘greats’. Chopin, Liszt, Debussy...” Wes trailed off into more detail than I would ever have been able to come up with. I wanted to hug him.

  Of course! He plays the keyboard in a band, how could I possibly have forgotten about that? I thought. Sure, his style is definitely not classical. But he probably learned how to play piano with classical pieces.

  The nice thing was that Wes didn't sound like he was simply doing me a favor. He was really into the conversation, like the others had been about that stupid show. Before we knew it, the hour was up.

  Chase glanced at the clock, stood up and stretched and said, “Well, looks like we're done for the day,” and started to gather his things.

  Ethan was now the one who looked panicked. “Oh my gosh, guys! We didn't even touch on the science project at all!”

  He got up and ran to the window to look out at the bus loop. His mother was waiting in her Mercedes to pick him up.

  “Maybe we should stay another twenty minutes or so. I'm sure my mom wouldn't be too annoyed,” he said, flustered.

  The rest of us glanced around at each other. We hadn't really anticipated him suggesting we stay, but Britta quickly handled it.

  “Um, I'm really sorry guys, but I have to get over to the organic vegetable farm I volunteer at. I’m always there at four-thirty,” she said.

  “Yeah, I have to let my dog out, he's already been kept inside an extra hour,” I said, not actually having to lie.

  “Same for me, I have band practice,” Wes said.

  Ethan looked defeated, like he had let himself down for not being a strict peer mentor at this meeting.

  Chase walked over and clamped his huge hand onto Ethan’s shoulder. “Hey buddy, don't worry,” he said, a bit condescendingly. “This project isn't hard. Mr. Gregory just wants to make us think it is. We've got plenty of time to finish it.”

  In a flurry of “see-ya-laters” and a few jokes about Aliens, we all shuffled out the door, leaving Ethan no choice but to follow reluctantly. The other five of us celebrated our success with subtle winks and went our separate ways.

  Chapter 8

  The Gloomy Pizza Party

  THE NEXT TWO MEETINGS went exactly the same way as the last one. We had each learned a thing or two about Ethan's interests, and we filled the meeting hours distracting him.

  The funny thing is, it seemed that at least one of us shared each interest somehow. Chase and Alexandra obviously loved that silly Aliens show, and Wes had a passion for piano, as we learned in the second meeting.

  When Wes started chatting with Ethan about botany, Britta jumped right in and talked about all the herbs and vegetables she tends to at the organic farm.

  And as for me, who could have figured Ethan loved pasta-rolling as much as I do? The only topic no one seemed to relate to was his obsession with trains. We didn't dwell on that one too long.

  As much as any of us would hate to admit it, Ethan wasn't the only one who was being cracked; the rest of us were as well. We discovered so many common threads, with Ethan and with each other, that we nearly forgot why we were having the conversations in the first place.

  As cringe-worthy as it was, we were all starting to like each other. Yes, even Ethan's annoying habits became somewhat lovable as we got to know him.

  By the end of the fourth meeting, we had forgotten about the project entirely, and Ethan no longer panicked at the end realizing we had made zero progress. As we were leaving, we decided on the following Wednesday for our fifth meeting.

  “That's perfect,” Alexandra said. “My dad is holding tryouts for the youth girls' volleyball league that night, and he's getting a bunch of pizzas. I’m sure he won’t mind sparing some extras for us.”

  -----

  At our fifth meeting, a few minutes after the hour Alexandra walked in the door with two large pizza boxes. My mouth watered as soon as the scent of bubbly mozzarella and crispy, buttery crust hit me. She dropped the pizzas on a desk with a thud, obviously annoyed.

  “If you hate pizza that much, I can take care of your share. I would do that for you,” Chase said.

  “Har har”, she responded wryly, and immediately crammed the first slice of pepperoni into her mouth.

  “It's the volleyball thing, right?” I asked, concerned for Alexandra's feelings, but more wanting her to retract her claws enough so that it was safe to grab a slice of pizza. I was starving.

  “You'd rather be there?” I said.

  “Nope. I’m just fine right where I am,” Alexandra said stubbornly. “But Dad thinks otherwise, and he had no problem making that clear when he gave me the pizzas. I asked him about it this weekend and he said it was no problem.

  But today I felt like I had to practically beg. He called me out in front of the whole team for having to miss practice today and still have the nerve to ask for pizza.”

  I already knew Mr. Carmichael could be kind of
a jerk to Alexandra, but after getting to know her better, hearing this was starting to upset me more than I expected.

  “Sometimes I feel like he only likes me when I’m playing a sport. You'd think a parent would cut their kid some slack for missing one practice to work on a school project. Especially when your dad’s a teacher himself! Not mine, though,” she said.

  Alexandra walked toward the windows and slumped down into a bean bag chair. We all dived for the pizza at that point.

  “Since when are sports more important than science?” Alexandra said in her best nerdy voice.

  We all laughed...then almost choked on our pizza, remembering all at once the reason we were meeting in the first place. “Project Crack Ethan” had worked. It had worked too well, and we had ended up distracting ourselves just as much as we’d distracted him.

  “Oh my gosh, you guys! We only have one meeting left!” Britta cried. “And we haven't done the slightest bit of work on this project!”

  Each of us frantically looked around the room at each other, hoping one of us had the answer already. Then, we all turned and stared at Ethan. I had so many conflicting thoughts. This is what we had wanted, right? Now was the point where we were supposed to ask Ethan to take over the project for us.

  But for some reason, the idea didn't sound so great anymore. In the short time since we'd been meeting, we had come to know each other a little better. Ethan, though still annoying as ever, had actually become…a friend.

  I made a decision. I reached for my backpack, preparing to pull out my science book and lead the charge. But to my surprise, I wasn’t the only one to act.

  In one swift move, we were all springing in to action. Some of us were pulling out our textbooks, Alexandra pulled out the dry-erase markers again, and Wes began to fire up the classroom computer for research. The only one still standing was Ethan. He looked, once again, defeated.