“Again, the more you study now, the less you'll end up having to cram on the last night—”

A tone blared through the classroom speaker, signaling the period was over.

Students immediately began grabbing backpacks and books.

“Don't forget,” he called out above the shuffling noise, “we're going to start

working on gas laws and kinetic theory on Monday. Read through the

experiment on page eighty-one.” He tapped the side of his head. “And don't forgot your goggles!”

As students hustled out of his classroom, Peter moved to the whiteboard and

began erasing the day's lesson, hoping at least one of the bleary-eyed kids in his Intro to Chemistry class had learned the difference between combustion and burning. This was the last class of the day, and even though most of them were

good kids, they couldn't wait to get out the door and have school over with for

the weekend.

It wasn't like many of them were going to be using much chemistry once they left high school. He wondered again what it would be like to teach at a small college or even a university. Some place where the students actually wanted to be there instead of home gaming, road tripping to the mall, or glued to

their cell phones.

Oh, there were a few of the mathletes who got it, maybe even loved

chemistry like he did, but he felt like he was running out of ways to make it interesting. Maybe if he dropped watermelons from the school roof to

demonstrate kinetic theory…

“Ready?” Lucius Potter called from the doorway. “Pie shake's calling my

name.”

Lucius was tall, angular, and the oldest teacher at Golden Grove High.

Considered by students and their parents as much a permanent a fixture as the deadly meat loaf in the lunchroom, he had just celebrated his forty-first year teaching every science class in existence. He stood with his long arms folded across his black wool vest, black thick-rimmed glasses and thick gray mustache

giving him a professorial look that belied his playful nature.

Generations of Golden Grove students adored Lucius Potter, many having

gone on to be doctors, scientists, or teachers themselves, like Peter.

“Just about ready.” Peter moved to his desk, tapped a few keys on his laptop

to shut it down, then closed the lid. “I'll do grades tomorrow at home.”

Every Friday after school he and Lucius had pie shakes at Ray's Diner

downtown, then gabbed about science and life. Mostly life, since they'd done science all week at school. Today the topic would almost certainly be the herd of

hilarious beards that were cropping up around town for the competition on

Sunday.

He grabbed his coat. Summer was definitely gone and the fall Iowa air could

get pretty crisp later in the day.

Lucius entered the room, glancing around. He still seemed to marvel at the

bright, clean sheen of the new high school building, built only a few years ago.

Peter had to admit it was a huge improvement over the musty old brick building

where he'd had to attend class.

He filled his briefcase with work for next week. “Got big plans for the weekend?”

Lucius shrugged as he came over to Peter's desk. “Nothing much. You?

Going to the beard contest Sunday?”

“No, thank you. They're starting to creep me out, all those spider-faced guys

popping up around the square. What is it with the weird conventions in this town?” This summer it had been the “Larry Convention” when the town filled up with three hundred guys all named Larry. “Besides, I need to get ahead on these lab grades since I've got that Des Moines thing next weekend. Wish they'd

just send me the plaque or whatever so I didn't have to leave work. Some of these kids are on the edge as it is.”

Lucius leaned against the desk. “Maybe you're pushing them too hard.”

Peter could tell it was a goad. He put his pencil down. “Like you did me?”

“You didn't need pushing. You wanted to spend more time in the lab. 'Extra Credit Clark,' remember?”

“Not like I had much else to do around here.”

“Oh, I think you had some other options. Still might,” he added under his breath.

Peter wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but let it go.

“Besides,” Lucius continued, “you deserve this award.”

Peter nodded, but it was a suspicious nod. “I still think you put them up to

it.”

“The students? It was their idea actually. They're the ones that nominated you last spring.”