Chapter 23

I decided that first thing after my mom picked me up and brought me home, I would rewrite my final summary to encompass the whole truth surrounding Gamma Glamma. Well, except the fact it was originally planned to die on the drawing board because I wanted to go to the dance.

What I did include was the fact that my participants didn’t exactly volunteer to take part in the name of science. Rather, they did it for me. And the experiment did work, at least in the short term. Bridge, Mase, and Susan became popular and achieved much higher social status within new peer groups, to the point of being elected freshman Homecoming finalists.

But from a long-term standpoint, I was still discovering how this experiment was going to impact their lives. For instance, at first, Bridge wasn’t sure what to do with her new power but still didn’t want to lose it, so she chose to pay the price of bowing down to Venus.

Then Mase, who had preferred being by himself, was now continually bombarded with groupies and people who would cling on just because he was popular. And, finally, there was Susan, whose very existence was at one time not even acknowledged by most of the student body. But now that she had some celebrity exposure through the power of television and she had risen to become a target of the popular kids’ ridicule, she was at risk of a social public stoning with her freshly revealed nickname of Jabba.

So, in conclusion, did I accomplish what I set out to do? Well, kinda. But I learned so much more than that. What I discovered wasn’t a quick fix to attain popularity, but something entirely different—that we, as scientists, need to be always mindful that whatever we do, create, or invent has long-term effects that we may not foresee. And if we want to respect the legacy of those great thinkers who came before us, then it is important to practice our science with a conscience—an awareness and concern about the consequences of our actions. I have to admit my conclusion felt a bit after-achool spe-cialish but it was the truth. Wow, what a concept!

It was weird. I felt proud. I felt lighter because I was telling the truth about my project. I didn’t try to give it a makeover so it would sound better or more successful than it was. That was pretty cool, telling the truth. Everyone should feel that good about telling the truth. And now, everyone would!

Seeing Venus and Bart earlier had gotten me to thinking. They were more than likely going to win tomorrow. It was almost an overwhelming statistical probability. I wondered if they would tell how they got there. Would they say they won because of bullying and intimidation? Yeah, right. But wouldn’t it be refreshing for the entire student body to have the opportunity to hear how they really won? It would be so juicy, or memorable, to say the least. And I wanted this year’s Homecoming to be memorable for all, even if I couldn’t be there myself.

So I decided (against advice, of course) that I would try one more invention. Bridge would kill me if I asked her to help me (and she was probably way too stressed out about getting ready for the dance), so I would attempt this one solo. I decided to tinker with the idea of engineering electrodes to emit certain wavelengths of micro-voltage energy and induce specific neural patterns in the higher logical regions of the brain—just like truth serum. It would kinda be like superacupuncture on the ole cabeza. It wouldn’t hurt at all; in fact, it would make the wearer very, very relaxed. So relaxed that the person just might start talking freely and truthfully.

The only thing that I had to consider was the fact that I needed to make the electrodes really, really small so that I could mount these little ticklers to the inside of the crowns. I had to use the best wires and batteries and other components I had available. I’d have to rip apart other gadgets to get what I needed to make sure this invention would rock.

It took me all night with no break for a nap. By morning I had a matching pair of tiny truth extractors. I was so excited and I couldn’t resist calling my new invention the “Truth B. Told.” Now I needed to test them out, but on whom? As usual, I knew I had to be my own guinea pig. I also decided to have one of my Chica Speakas record whatever I would say so that I could review it.

I placed the loose set of wires on my head and they kind of tingled, but not in a bad way. The sensation felt like when I use my mom’s chamomile and mint shampoo.

I stood in front of my dressing mirror. I looked normal except for the dark circles under my eyes but, hey, that came from lack of sleep. I talked softly and began to tell the truth.

“My name is Luz. My best friend is Bridget Joiner. I wish I could go to the dance. I wish I didn’t have to go to the science competition. I wish Swen would see me as a girl instead of a science project. I hope nothing bad happens to Susan and Mase tonight. If anything happens to my friends tonight, I won’t be able to forgive myself and that’s the truth for sure.” Well, everything seemed like the truth so far.

I sat down on my bed and thought, What’s a question I can ask to make sure I can tell if I’m telling the truth? I looked across my floor, strewn with wires, pliers, and aluminum, and then my silver boots. It made me laugh because it didn’t matter if I was a scientist or a fashionista, I was always drawn to things that were metal, bright, and shiny.

And then that’s when I had my Einstein moment. I stood up and tip-toed to my mirror with my truth extractors on. I looked in the mirror and I whispered as quietly as I could, “Am I jealous of Venus?”

I didn’t even have time to think about the answer because my mouth said, “Yes” for me. Wow. It really and truly does work! It was kinda creepy hearing my own voice telling me the truth.

One thing I knew I couldn’t lie about was the fact that I was really, really tired. It was already ten in the morning and I hadn’t slept. Swen would come for me in about seven hours and I still needed to rush to the school and hide the electrodes in the freshman Homecoming crowns. I hoped Swen wasn’t mad at me for acting like a little brat yesterday, although it felt like that had happened eons ago.

I was so tired, so sleepy that I thought I would lie down for just a minute and then wake up and start getting everything, and myself, cleaned up. A minute of sleep wouldn’t hurt. Yeah, it wouldn’t hurt at all.