“Okay, well, we’re going to do the cloud thing, right? The one I told you about that we did at my old school? We use ice and hot water and poof! It forms a cloud. It’s really cool. And it’ll be super easy since I’ve done it before.” He glanced up front to make sure Mr. Petry didn’t hear that part.

  “Ice and water,” I said, writing it under “Gather Materials.”

  “Write that down. Under ‘Gather Materials.’”

  “Very funny,” I told him. He leaned back, looking pleased with himself. “Okay. Hypothesis . . . What makes a cloud form? How does a cloud form? What are the conditions that bring about a cloud?”

  “Hypothesis: You like that band the Notebooks,” he said.

  “Huh? Hello. This isn’t music class.”

  “But you’re into them, aren’t you? Am I right or am I right? Just say it. You’re into the Notebooks.”

  “Okay. I’m into the Notebooks. The science notebooks,” I said, jabbing the worksheet with my pencil.

  Observation: Wire Rims was not taking this project seriously.

  “Are you into their new song — what’s it called? ‘Honey Strange.’ Or is it ‘Honey Stranger’?”

  “You’re strange. And getting stranger by the second.”

  “I just thought — their lead singer, Chloe Sevilla, has that cool haircut. Short, you know, with bangs in her eyes. Kinda like yours.”

  My hand shot up to my hair. “Trust me, this short hair was not on purpose. Long story.”

  “I’d like to hear it sometime.”

  Secretly I liked that he wanted to hear my hair-disaster story. But that would have to wait for later. “Can we please stop talking about my hair? We still don’t have a hypothesis.”

  “No biggie. I told you, I got it covered. Piece of cake.”

  “So I should write ‘piece of cake’?” I teased. “Where exactly do you want me to put that?”

  “Ha, ha. What other bands are you into? Me, I’m into everything from old-school Beatles and Dylan to indie bands like the Troll Dolls and Furious Yellow.”

  “Hey, Wire Rims. Can we focus here? Before Mr. Petry turns furious yellow.”

  Wire Rims cracked up. “Hey, that’s funny.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “Shh. Do you want to end up in detention again?”

  “Might not be so bad.”

  “Let’s talk about materials,” I said for the benefit of Mr. Petry. “What else, besides water and ice?”

  Mr. Petry moved on to the next row.

  “I’m way into music.” Wire Rims drummed a beat on top of my desk. “Okay, this is so cool. For my report, you know, the cloud identification thing? I’m even identifying how many times the word ‘cloud’ appears in certain music, like Dylan. And if I have time, I’ll do rain, thunder, and lightning, too.”

  “How’d you think of that? That sounds cool! But we haven’t even filled out —” The bell rang before I could finish my sentence. “Saved by the bell,” I said. “So, what time on Saturday? And where do you want to meet? The library?”

  “No way can we do this at the library! I mean, there’s ice, and we have to use hot water and stuff. I know. You can come to my house. It’s not that far from the school. You turn at that pink house that used to be a video store.”

  No way was I going over to his house! Too weird. “Look. You know where the Raven Theater is, right off Main Street South? I live right next door. Why don’t you just meet me there? It’ll be easier.”

  “I’ll bring ice. You bring water,” he said, smiling and showing off a crooked front tooth.

  “How about if I bring water and you bring ice?”

  “Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “Gotcha.” Now it was my turn to smile.

  Draw Conclusions: Cloudy, with a chance of flunking Earth Science.

  GOT FOG?

  Starring Alex

  SETTING: ALEX’S ROOM, THE NEXT AFTERNOON.

  Me: Joey, you have to go over there again. You heard them yesterday. Mr. Cannon is going to make them do the same scene today. And they’re going to have to get it right. That means they’re going to kiss . . . more than once. You have to stop them!

  Joey: No way, nah-uh, not me.

  Me: Stevie?

  Stevie: (Imitates Joey.) No way, no how, nah-uh.

  Me: (Wails.) C’mon, you guys. You have to help me. When have I ever asked you for anything?

  Joey and Stevie: (At same time.) Yesterday.

  Stevie: Alex, what is the big deal? So they kiss. It’s just a play. They’re acting.

  Me: Yeah, acting like they like each other. At first, you’re just pretending, then, boom, you’re in love.

  Stevie: Just go over there. So what if you’re not in the play. You can’t hide up here forever. Joey and I are going to take the baby monitor away, aren’t we, Joey? (Signals to Joey to grab it.)

  Me: You can’t. (Grabs it back.) Okay, I’ll go, but —

  Joey: Dad’s over there. Just say he needs some help with props.

  Me: Thank you.

  Stevie: Go. Remember, we’ll be right here! (Shakes baby monitor in air.)

  Me: (Runs out door and across to Raven Theater. Enters through back door.)

  Mr. Cannon: Hi, stranger! What do you think of our new digs? (Gestures all around theater.)

  Jayden: (Under her breath, but still heard.) What’s she doing here? I thought she was too good for us now.

  Scott: Alex!

  Allen/Alvin: Hi, Alex.

  Conrad/Matt/Brianna: Hey, Alex.

  Me: My dad told me you guys were rehearsing here. Sorry to hear about the school theater flooding and everything.

  Matt: This place is cool.

  Mr. Cannon: (A little too cheery.) Well, sure was great of your dad to let us use the space. And I was hoping we’d run into you. We miss seeing you at Drama Club.

  Me: Um, yeah, thanks, me too, but . . . don’t let me interrupt. I’m not staying or anything. It’s just, my dad asked me to come over and look over some props. Help figure out what we’re missing and everything. You know.

  Jayden: Yeah, right.

  Mr. Cannon: That’s great, Alex.

  Me: So, just forget I’m here.

  Jayden: (Mutters.) That shouldn’t be hard.

  Scott: (Glares at Jayden.)

  Me: I’ll be in the back. I’ll try not to make noise. I know you guys must have a lot to do. (Looks directly at Jayden.)

  Allen/Alvin: Sure do.

  Me: I mean a lot of work. Practice. I know. I get it. (Stop talking now!)

  Mr. Cannon: (Claps hands.) Okay, people. Can I have Romeo, Juliet, Nurse, Benvolio, and a Capulet. Front and center. Let’s hit it. I want to get through Act One today. Juliet!

  Jayden: My only love sprung from my only hate.

  Scott: That’s not even the line, Mr. Cannon.

  Mr. Cannon: Juliet, take it from “Good pilgrim.”

  Jayden: Fine. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much.

  Mr. Cannon: With expression.

  Me: (Listens from behind the curtain.)

  Scott: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?

  Me: (Whispers into monitor.) Hey, guys. It’s me. Alex. We forgot one thing. I’m over here, but, I mean, how do I keep the kiss from happening? (Oh, yeah, they can hear me, but I can’t hear them.) They’re doing the scene! Close your ears, Joey. It’s coming up in, like, two seconds. (Rummages through props. Looks around backstage. Ladder. Fan. Guitar. Maybe I can drop something, make a loud crash. Aren’t there any trash cans back here? Chairs?)

  Scott: O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.

  Me: (Eyes land on fog machine.) Hey, guys. I have a great idea. (Hurry up! Plug it in! Aim nozzle of hose through gap in curtain. Wait for Scott to say "prayer’s effect I take.")

  Scott: Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.

  Me: (Now! Turns switch to ON. Blast of fog gushes onto the stage.)

  Jayden: Uh
! My eyes! (Holds hands up to shield face.) I can’t see! (Waves hand in front of her face, rubs hands across both eyes. Coughs.) Mr. Cannon, she did this on purpose!

  Me: (Pokes head through gap in curtain.) Sorry. I was just testing the fog machine for my dad.

  Mr. Cannon: Settle down, people. No harm done. Well, at least we know it’s working. That fog’ll come in handy for the graveyard scene. Okay, Juliet. Your line. “You kiss by the book.”

  Jayden: (Overdramatizes a cough.) You kiss . . . ahem, ahem . . . by the . . . ahem . . . book.

  Mr. Cannon: Benvolio, away, begone. Everybody exit but Juliet and Nurse. Jayden, “Come hither, Nurse.”

  BACKSTAGE, MOMENTS LATER . . .

  Scott: Oh, my god, Alex, did you see her face? (Laughs.) That was too funny. Then she wiped her eyes and they smudged all black, like raccoon eyes. (Lowers voice and imitates.) Hey, Jayden. Got fog? Pffffff!

  Me: I didn’t mean to get you, honest!

  Scott: It was worth it. Getting fogged, I mean. Just to see the Jayden freak-out. I don’t know what’s up with her. She’s freaking out all over the place.

  Me: Really?

  Scott: Yeah, like yesterday. You shoulda heard her.

  Me: (Innocently.) Yeah, I wish I could have.

  Scott: We’re at the end of Act One, right? Same as today. But she keeps repeating the words “hands” and “palms” and messing up her lines. It was messing me up. Then she says she quits because Shakespeare’s a tongue twister.

  Me: Well, it is a lot to learn.

  Scott: Hey, maybe she will quit!

  Jayden: (Storms backstage.) I heard that! I know what you two are doing back here. For your information, I’m not quitting.

  Me: What! We’re just talking.

  Jayden: (Fumes.) I know what you did. You came back here on purpose, just to fog me so Scott and I wouldn’t get to —

  Scott: Finish our scene?

  Me: Jayden, I’m sorry. I guess I hit the button and poof! It just went off. I didn’t even know it still had fog juice in there.

  Jayden: Ha. You are such a little liar.

  Scott: Hey, Jayden. It’s just a little fog. You don’t have to get so bent out of shape about it.

  Jayden: Oh, sure, take her side. She’s just jealous because for once she didn’t get the lead. And now she’ll do anything to wreck it.

  Me: (Teases.) Who? Little Miss Woe Is Me?

  Jayden: (Hits Scott in arm.) Uh! You told her that? I can’t believe you.

  Scott: I didn’t — are you crazy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Me: (Shrugs; feigns innocence.)

  Jayden: I’ll get you for this, Reel. I’m going to talk to Mr. Cannon and make sure you’re not allowed anywhere near this play.

  Me: Good luck. I live here. My parents own this theater.

  Jayden: (Storms off.)

  Me: “Farewell, fair cruelty . . .”

  Scott: Hey, I better get going, too. I only have about a thousand lines to memorize by tomorrow. Hey, did you write that sonnet for English?

  Me: Yeah, you?

  Scott: No sweat. I only have fourteen more lines to go.

  Me: But a whole sonnet is only fourteen lines.

  Scott: Exactly. That’s why I gotta run. See you tomorrow?

  Me: I’ll be there.

  Scott: For what it’s worth, I think you woulda made a great Juliet. (Rushes through curtain and hops down off stage.)

  Me: (Sticks head through gap in curtain.) Hey, Romeo. Thanks.

  Scott: Hey, Reel. Fog ya later! (Mimes spraying with fog machine, laughs all the way up the aisle.)

  It started out as just a perfectly ordinary normal Saturday. Three sisters in the family room, each in her own favorite chair, which we had named years ago. Joey was flopped sideways across the Blue Blob, drawing frog comics in her notebook. Alex was stretched out on Jabba the Couch, moaning about something that happened in English yesterday. Something to do with her sonnet.

  I was in my Thinking Chair, waiting for Wire Rims to show up so we could do our science lab and get it over with. I couldn’t stop shaking my leg. Nervous? Excited? It was hard for me to tell.

  “I’m telling you,” said Alex, “it was sooooo embarrassing. We had to make up our own Shakespearean sonnet in English and I got called on to read a love poem in front of the whole world. Now I’m sure Scott knows I like him.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said, sitting up. “You like Scott Towel, right? Don’t you want him to know?”

  “No. It doesn’t work that way. Because I don’t want him to know I like him before I know for sure that he likes me.”

  “It’s so obvious he likes you,” I said.

  “It’s just like in the Sealed with a Kiss movie,” said Joey. “See, Romeo likes Juliet, but he tells his friend seal instead of telling her. Meanwhile, Juliet likes Romeo, but she tells another lady seal instead of just telling him. And they think it’s all secret and nobody can tell they’re in love, but really everybody can.”

  “Great. My love life is like a cartoon. With stupid seals.”

  “Since when are you into Romeo and Juliet?” I asked Joey. “I thought you hated lovey-dovey stuff.”

  “I do. But it’s okay when they’re seals.”

  Alex sat up and pointed her rolled-up magazine at me. “Hey, whatever happened when that boy called you, Stevie? You never said.”

  Joey covered her ears, shook her head, and went, “La-la-la-la-la-la-la!” so she wouldn’t have to hear.

  “What boy? Oh, him. Nothing. Just — we have to do this thing for Science.”

  “What thing?” Alex asked.

  “We have to do a hands-on weather experiment. So we’re going to figure out some way to simulate a cloud.”

  “Oh, yeah, I know some people who did that too. Mr. Petry’s class, right? Wait a second. You’re going to need water and ice and — you’re doing that project with a boy?”

  “Yeah. He’s coming over. So what?”

  Joey took her fingers out of her ears. “Here? He’s coming here? To our house? Bluck! Why can’t you just do it with a normal person, like Olivia?”

  “Because Olivia’s not even in this class.”

  “Wait a second,” said Alex. “He’s coming over here to do the cloud thing? This is big. This is huge. This is — we have to get ready. You know, prepare.”

  “Prepare for what?”

  “First we have to clean the whole house. Then, we work on you. Find you a purple shirt to wear.”

  “What’s wrong with the shirt she has on?” Joey asked.

  “Stevie looks good in purple. And we have to fix your hair. And borrow a little blush.”

  I blushed at the thought of putting on blush.

  “It’s Science. It’s not a date.”

  “I have an idea,” said Joey. “Just wear your pajamas, and don’t have him over here.”

  “Stevie, have you even thought about this for two seconds?” Alex asked. “That cloud thing is messy, and you need a lot of water. I’m pretty sure you have to do the cloud thing in the bathtub!”

  “So?”

  “Bath. Tub,” said Alex. “The bath tub is in the bathroom.”

  “Why? Is it a mess in there?”

  “Not that. There’s, you know, girl stuff in there.”

  “Yeah, like my rubber ducky collection,” said Joey. “Promise you won’t do any science experiments on my rubber duckies. No melting them or anything.”

  “Girl stuff? Like, are your days-of-the-week undies hanging in there or something?”

  “Yeah, or shirts with words on them?”

  “Joey!” I gave her the evil eye. But Alex wasn’t even paying attention.

  “I just mean soap and shampoo and toothbrushes and stuff. Do you really want a boy seeing your toothbrush?”

  “What’s wrong with my toothbrush?” I asked. Maybe I shouldn’t have said he could come over. But I sure didn’t want to go to his house!

  “And . . . there’re probabl
y hair balls in the drain,” said Joey.

  “Eeww,” I said.

  “Never mind. Boys love hair balls. Boys are hair balls.”

  “Stop saying ‘hair balls,’” I pleaded.

  “Hey, I just thought of something. You know why a boy can’t see your soap?” Joey joked. “Because boys smell. They don’t like soap. They don’t even know what soap is. So if a boy comes over, you’d have to be, like, ‘Boy. Meet Soap. Soap, this is a boy.’” She laughed herself silly.

  “Joey, this is so not helping. I already feel kinda weird as it is,” I admitted.

  “Kind of weird?” said Joey. “You’re weird if you don’t know how weird it is.”

  “Stevie, it’ll be fine,” said Alex. “Just don’t let him near the bathroom.”

  “But what if he has to, you know, go?”

  “Tell him to find a tree,” said Joey.

  “Joey! I’m not going to —”

  “Send him over to the Raven,” said Alex.

  “Okay, what else? We’re going to need a big giant tub of water.”

  “Ask Dad to blow up the old kiddie pool. And put it in the backyard,” Alex suggested. “And don’t let him in the family room because it’s just so embarrassing with Dad’s old props. Like, who has a knight in their living room? And there’s zucchini all over the kitchen, so don’t let him in there. And promise me you won’t wear those pants! And no slippers!”

  “What’s wrong with my pants?” I had on my favorite jeans with holes in the knees. They looked fine to me. This boy thing sure was complicated.

  I made a T with my hands. “Time out, time out, you guys. Alex, I’m not wearing makeup or anything! It’s not like I like him, like him. He’s just a friend. If that. I barely know him. So I’m just going to be myself. And Joey? Boys aren’t that bad. They don’t all smell and burp and punch you and stuff. So just think of him like Olivia. Only with glasses.”

  Alex looked down at her hands. Joey stared at the carpet. Neither sister said a word for close to three minutes.

  “I’m just saying. If he has to come over, stay outside and don’t let him inside the house,” Joey said.

  “What’s wrong with him coming in the house?”