Jane tried to think of a project for the science fair, but she didn't know how to begin. In elementary school, she and Emily had just done whatever project their dads suggested, from a library book Jane's mother checked out every year on award-winning science fair ideas. One year they had done something with magnets. Another year they had let mold grow on different foods: apples, bread, yogurt. That had been Jane's favorite project.
She forgot what their hypothesis had been, but she still remembered how gross the food had looked when the project was displayed in the elementary-school gym.
This year she wanted to do something different—not an experiment out of a book but one she thought up all by herself. She fantasized about the judges to be astonished that a sixteen-year-old could have thought up such a project and carried it out all alone, single-handedly pushing back the frontiers of science. She imagined herself as the youngest person ever to win a Nobel Prize.
And if she did win, she'd say in her acceptance speech, "Everything I am today I owe to my science teacher, Ms. Grace Anderson." And Rapunzel would shake back her golden hair and smile at her the way she had in the class the other day. The daydreaming was so ridiculous that even Jane couldn't help giggling to herself.
So Jane knew that she wanted her project to win the science fair, or at least, win the heart of Ms. Anderson. The problem was, she still didn't have the faintest idea what the project should be.
~*~
As she arrived at the school the next day, Jane wondered if Emily would still be mad at her. Not that Emily had acted particularly mad after the conversation yesterday. They had watched dumb TV series together, as they usually did. They hadn't talked much as usual. But this time the silence had felt different.
Emily was on the parking lot first. She made herself go up to her best friend.
"Hey," Emily said, waving.
"Hi," Jane said, patting her back on the arm. It was good to know that the Loser Club was still going strong. Or as strong as it could be with its vice president breaking its rules.
"I saw her drive into the lot earlier," Emily said then, lowering her voice to the lovesick sigh she used when she talked about Ms. Anderson. "That's her red Honda over there. See it? Next to the white Jeep."
Jane glanced over at it dutifully. She was in love with Rapunzel, too, maybe even more in love than Emily was, but she didn't feel any particular thrill from seeing her car. People must fall in love in different ways. She didn't want to talk about her, either, the way Emily did. She just wanted—it sounded corny, but it was true—to do some great deed that would be worthy of her. But so far the only great deed she could think of was winning the science fair.
In first-period science, Ms. Anderson again gave the class time to work on their projects. Most students were working in groups of two or three, so all around the room, they were busy pulling their desks together.
Jane sat alone. So did Emily. Jane hoped some kids would invite Emily to join their group. No one did. She and Emily had worked together so many times, yet no one seemed to notice that today Emily's only partner had abandoned her.
Once again Ms. Anderson circulated from group to group, talking over everyone's ideas. As she sat with Mary's group, right next to her, Jane stared at her instead of at the blank page on which she had written Science Fair Ideas so hopefully last night.
Ms. Anderson's hair was up, in a long braid twisted around her head. Jane guessed that she was desperate to look older than she appeared, but it made her look foreign—Russian, maybe. She wore a purplish dress today, as long and swirly as her skirt had been.
She was standing up. She was turning away from Mary's group. She was coming towards her. She was pulling up an empty chair next to hers.
"Jane," she said in her low voice.
She remembered her name.
Jane tried to make her face look mature and intelligent, the thoughtful face of a future scientist.
"Have you had a chance to think any more about the science fair project?" she asked her.
Only every minute since nine-thirty yesterday morning. Jane nodded. She laid her arm over her blank paper to hide its blankness. "I have a few ideas I'm working on, but they're still pretty rough."
Ms. Anderson didn't get up to go to the next group. She sat patiently. Her expectant silence invited Jane to say more.
"I sort of wanted to do something...different," Jane said finally.
"Different?"
"My mom has this book on science fair projects - it's a library book, really - but I didn't want to do another one of the experiments from the book." I want to do an experiment that will win the Nobel Prize. Jane didn't say it. She couldn't meet her eyes.
"That's wonderful, Jane," Ms. Anderson said softly. "I've found that 'different' experiments are usually the best. And I know it's a lot harder to come up with something of your own. I think the secret is to start with a problem that interests you. Start by making a list of some things you really care about."
"Um, sports, I guess."
As soon as she had said it, she hated herself. Sports! She sounded as idiotic as Julie Brown, babbling about "dry cell and electricity and stuff." She wanted to sound like Einstein or Sir Isaac Newton, not like a dump sports nut - worse, a dump sports nut who wasn't even good at sports.
"Jane."
She made herself look up, but not directly at her beautiful face.
"The human body in motion is a fascinating subject for science. There are hundreds - thousands - of exciting scientific questions that have to do with sports. I know you'll find one that will make a wonderful project."
She smiled at Jane and she smiled back, catching her enthusiasm like a softball dropped from the sky overhead into her waiting glove.
Then she was gone, off to Lucy's desk. Lucy was the only girl, besides Jane and Emily, who was working alone.
Could you win a Nobel Prize for discovering something about sports? Absolutely not, but Jane was still going to figure it out.
During study hall, Jane made another entry in the Unfair Life. If she kept going at this rate, before the year was out she would have written a book longer than A Tale of Two Cities.
Tuesday, 28. In art class, they were doing pottery. The clay materials were shaped, dried and then fired. Everybody's ceramic pots were fired in a kiln. Jane Waleski's pot was the only one that cracked. Ms. Harvey told her, "These things happen."
That night, they had macaroni and cheese for dinner. Jane was starving. Being in love seemed to give her an appetite.
"How was school today?" her mother asked.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Just fine? Nothing wonderful? Nothing terrible?"
Caroline shook her head. Jane did, too.
Tonight Caroline gave in first. "At practice after school this afternoon, the coach took me aside and told me —well, he does want the guy from the university to know that I'll be pretty good to play in a varsity team next year."
"That's great, honey," Jane's dad said.
"I just wish I were taller," Caroline said.
Caroline wished she were taller? If Jane could ever be five foot six, she would never again ask for anything in her life.
"You're tall enough, honey," Jane's mom said. "Both of you are still growing."
"So, Mom, how's Addison Blue?" Jane asked to change the subject.
"The same. Today Taylor brought in her pet dog, Twinkles, for sharing time, and Addison told Taylor that Twinkles was not a dog but a giant rat. They argued and then actually came to blows over it."
"Who won?" her dad asked, looking amused and excited over a preschooler's fight than a UFC match.
"Well, I put a stop to it right away," she said. "And don't go away, there's apple crisp for dessert."
As she was serving the crisp, she said to Caroline, "You're not worried about Friday night, are you?"
"Not really," Caroline said. "Maybe a little bit."
"Don't worry," she told her. "Just play the way you always do."
In other words, Jane thought, just be perfect. And of course, Caroline would be, as always, and the university coach would be impressed by Caroline's wonderfulness, as all adults always were, and next year, Caroline would be as a star in college as she had been all through high school.
At least, Jane wouldn't have to witness it all firsthand. She probably wouldn't make it through high school with her current academic performance. She would probably have to look for a job at Starbucks after graduation. That if she did graduate at all. Now that she thought about it, she shamed herself for even dare to dream of winning a Nobel Prize for Ms. Anderson. Perhaps, Jane Waleski was born a loser after all.