He wasn't sure at first if he should have those feelings for her, but that lasted
all of about three seconds when he'd seen her, outside, washing her dad's car in
shorts and a tank top. Summer after their freshman year, June 8, his birthday.
From then on he'd made a point of being home on Sunday afternoons, car-
washing day. Felt a little guilty at first, but she was just, well…
Okay, the word was beautiful. Not only body beautiful, although a freckled,
sudsy girl in a red tank top unquestionably fit that definition. Not drop-dead, over-the-top, unattainable six-foot-tall model beautiful. But it was more than that, and it unnerved his reliable scientific mind why he couldn't put his finger on it.
Like an atom or a molecule, it was there. It was there, somewhere, in how she cocked her head and smiled, the sprinkle of freckles around her nose, the perfume she started wearing—what was it called? Lucky You?
He liked the way she smelled. It wasn't like they spent a lot of time on her
project. They spent half their time in her basement just talking, drinking Dr. Pepper out of bottles from the old machine the Bradys had there. She'd fiddle
with her wire and glass bits. He'd give a few suggestions when she asked, mostly
about balancing the weights, but that was it.
He just… Admit it, Peter. You just wanted to spend time with her.
A teacher was announcing something from the stage PA system. Judging was
starting from the front tables and working its way back. He figured he'd have another fifteen minutes before they got to him. He checked the plastic tube that
fed from the oxidizer tank to the base of his experiment and made sure it was snug in the fitting.
Katie had worked really hard on her mobile, and, even though he was no artist, he knew it was very good. Nitrovex might be all about chemicals, but that
didn't mean they only picked the techy stuff. In fact, the owner's wife was an artist, and she was one of the judges today.
He stole another glance at her table. She seemed pretty confident. And she
should be. Deep down, he hoped she would win. Even in middle school, she'd dreamed of going to art school, but he knew her parents weren't too big on the
idea. A scholarship might be just the thing to change their minds.
He tested another connection and then stopped. The judges were a row
behind and two tables back, working their way towards the front of the gym.
Four serious-looking adults armed with clipboards. He swallowed, then stepped
back. He knew his project was ready, and if he kept fiddling with it he might break something.
“Well, Mr. Clark, everything's looking good, I see.”
Peter looked up to see the smiling, mustached face of his favorite teacher.
“Thanks, Mr. Potter. I just checked all the connections. I think it'll work.”
Mr. Potter gave him a small clap on the back. “Oh, it'll work fine.” His teacher touched a tube and checked a connection. “Have to say, it's pretty ingenious. Chemical reactions as a propulsion device. I wouldn't be surprised if
there were some practical uses for this type of thing.”
Peter knew Mr. Potter was just being supportive, but he felt a swell of pride,
anyway. The teacher gave him a wink and moved down the aisle.
He felt a sharp poke in his ribs. “Hey, Peter,” a light voice said directly behind his ear.
He twisted in surprise, catching his hip on the edge of the table. A spare pipe
from his project rolled off the edge of the table and clanged onto the gym floor.
Everyone in the vicinity jumped, especially Katie, who moved between him and
her sculpture.
“Geez, Penny, watch it,” he said.
It was Penny Fitch, his new neighbor who'd moved in over the summer.
Although Peter liked her—she always had a smile, and she liked science—she could get a little annoying at times. A lot of the guys were after her he knew.
