Chapter 15:

Practice Makes Perfect

I was working in a lab. A state-of-the-art laboratory, surrounded by my projects: a six-legged robot, a robot that wiggles around like a snake, a tiny robot that can climb into someone’s body and locate the cancer cells making them sick. My assistants were running around, taking measurements and observations on clipboards, typing away at computers, leaning over tables covered in electronic components and wiring circuits. One of them dashed over to me. “Dr. Robinson,” she said, looking at her watch. “You have a meeting with the president in a few minutes. We need to head out.” I nodded and told her—

“MAAAAYAAAAAAAA! I HAVE TOLD YOU! THREE! TIMES! Stop hitting that snooze button and get up. You don’t want to be late on Science Fair Day.”

Science Fair Day. Science Fair Day! It was finally here! I jumped out of bed. “Ralph, good morning! Can you put my homework and books into my book bag, please?”

GOOD MORNING, MAYA. YES, I CAN PUT ALL OF YOUR HOMEWORK AND BOOKS INTO YOUR BOOK BAG. WOULD YOU ALSO LIKE ME TO GATHER YOUR SCIENCE FAIR MATERIALS?

“Yes, please! Thanks, Ralph. I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” That was the other very, very special thing about today. Mom had agreed to let Ralph come to school with me for the first time. I convinced her using two logical points: One, my science fair project was too heavy for me to carry around by myself. I had built a model volcano connected to a heart rate monitor, and I planned to ask people a series of hard math questions. If the person wearing the monitor got stressed out or scared, the volcano would spill over. That part was a little bit of a gimmick, I admit. My hypothesis was that as the math questions increased in difficulty, people’s hearts would beat faster. I had made the lava out of oatmeal and red food coloring, and I called the project “Don’t Let Your Feelings Erupt.” Not a bad twist on the old science fair volcano, huh?

And the second point I made to Mom was that it was Science Fair Day. So lots of kids would be bringing weird stuff to school. Ralph was less likely to cause a commotion or distract anyone amidst the mice in cages, Mentos in Pepsi bottles, and potato cannons.

I was glad that Ralph would be an extra set of hands to help me carry everything and set it up. Some kids’ parents came to school to help them do that, but my parents had to work. Secretly, though, I was mostly glad to have Ralph there as moral support. I was nervous about the day, and I liked knowing that my robot friend would have my back.

At school, the cafeteria was bustling with activity. The lunch tables were set up in rows. Every single fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth grader in the whole school was there, pulling enormous poster boards out of trash bags and balancing their materials carefully on tables. One kid had an entire fish tank full of fish. Another had a scale model of the Sears Tower built out of toothpicks. I was nervous just watching them.

I blinked and shook my head. Get your head in the game, Maya. I needed to stop being so distracted by everyone else’s project and focus on my own. But when I turned back to the table, Ralph was almost finished setting everything up. “Oh wow, Ralph. Thanks, buddy,” I said.

NO PROBLEM, BUDDY. HIGH FIVE. ALSO, I HAVE A VOICE NOTE FOR YOU FROM DADDY.

Ralph made a small clicking sound, and then a recording of my father’s voice began to play. “Hey, Maya. I just wanted to let you know that even though your mom and I can’t make it to your science fair, we are so proud of you. We know it will go great.” And then another small click as the recording ended.

I beamed at Ralph. “That was so nice!” Then I felt another pang of worry. “Ralph, what time is it?”

IT IS CURRENTLY EIGHT FIFTY-TWO A.M.

“Argh. Eight more minutes until we start? I’m so nervous! What am I supposed to do with myself? Ralph, what should I do?” I paced back and forth in front of the table.

YOU COULD PRACTICE YOUR PRESENTATION. MOM SAID—

Ralph clicked quietly, and a recording of my mother’s voice began to play. “Practice makes perfect! You want to practice your presentation so that it goes smoothly for the judges.” There was a second small click.

“Okay. Good point, good point. Practice. Practice. Okay.” I stopped pacing, spun around to face Ralph, and—Zoe? Zoe Winters was standing there, examining Ralph carefully from top to bottom.

“Um. Hi, Zoe.”

“Hello, Maya.” That was weird. No “Patricia” this time. She was smiling her creepy great white shark smile. I mean, I guess it was a normal smile, but coming from her it creeped me out. Zoe was never nice to me. What was the deal? “Is this your robot?”

No, he’s a random robot that showed up at school and is standing here talking to me for no reason. Never seen him before in my life. “Yep.”

“Very cool. Cool project. You’re always so good at science. I should have known you would have a good science fair project.”

“Th—” My voice came out in a weird squeak. Ralph was not my project, but this was the longest Zoe had ever gone without being mean to me. Why correct her? I cleared my throat. “Thank you. What’s your project?”

“Oh, it’s over there.” She gestured vaguely toward the front of the cafeteria. “It’s a coding thing I did with my older sister. We made a memory game.”

What?! That actually sounded really cool. “Really? That’s awesome. Maybe if we get a break in the presentations I can go over and check it out.”

“Sure, I hope you do. Hey, listen, a minute ago I heard you say you were feeling nervous. You know what always helps me? Getting a drink of water. Why don’t you go get some water and take a deep breath, and I’ll stand here and watch your project? You still have a couple minutes.”

That was actually a good idea. I looked at Ralph, uncertain. “Ralph, will you be okay if I go get some water? I’ll come right back.”

I WILL BE OKAY IF YOU GO GET SOME WATER. YOU’LL COME RIGHT BACK. I WILL TAKE CARE OF THE VOLCANO.

Zoe’s eyes widened. “Wow! Your robot is a good talker. Go on, we’ll wait here for you.”

I was torn. I didn’t really want to leave Ralph, but Zoe was being so weirdly nice to me. If I went along with it, maybe the niceness would continue and she wouldn’t be such a jerk to me after today. And she had a good point about the water. It will only be a minute.

“Okay, thanks so much! I’ll be right back.” I skittered off to the far corner of the cafeteria, where there was a water fountain. I tried to keep an eye on Ralph the whole way, but I worried that if I kept peeking back over my shoulder at Zoe it would look weird. And in order to drink, I had to keep my eyes on the fountain or else I’d spill water on myself, which was the last thing I wanted. Plus, the other displays were blocking my view. I couldn’t see anything except tables and poster boards and . . .

MJ and Jada stood together, talking and laughing in front of a board. It must have been MJ’s, because it had a bunch of pictures of his cat, Diamond, and the title said “Do Cats Recognize Faces?” This was my chance. I could go over, say hi, bring them to my table, show them Ralph. There was no one else with them, no cool kids that I didn’t know. Just my two friends. They had paused in their conversation and were standing quietly. Perfect timing. I started to walk toward them.

And then the bell rang. Yikes. Principal Merriweather stood atop a stool and shouted, “Welcome to this year’s science fair! It is nine o’clock. Judging will now officially begin. Presenters, please head to your stations.”

Shoot. MJ dapped Jada and she walked away, off toward wherever her project was. I hurried back to my table, already feeling thirsty again. “Glad you made it back,” Zoe said. “I don’t want to miss the judges.”

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry,” I replied.

“Good luck!” she said, smiling that weird smile again. And before I could say anything back, she skipped away.

I looked at the volcano, suspicious that Zoe had broken something. It seemed totally fine, everything in place. My poster board stood perfectly in the center of the table, the same way Ralph had set it up. And Ralph looked fine, too. “Ralph, you doing okay?”

I AM DOING OKAY.

Maybe I had been unfair to Zoe. I didn’t have time to think about it much, though, because two of the volunteer judges arrived. One judge had a friendly, encouraging smile on her face and an enormous purse over her shoulder, the kind my grandma carries that always has twenty thousand things in it. The other judge had a necktie on, with a pattern of little atoms on it. My kind of crowd, I thought. I sprang into presentation mode.

“Good morning! Welcome to the science fair. My name is Maya Robinson and this project is called—”

“AAAAWWWWWW YEAAAAHHHH! WHO IS READY TO ROCK?”

What in the world? I looked to my left. At the table next to mine, an eighth grader named Marcus had a microphone set up, and his friend had an electric guitar. Their poster board said “The Science of Sound Waves: Investigating Rock Music.” The electric guitar was plugged into an amp, and the noise was piercing. I tried to speak up.

“SORRY. CAN I START OVER? MY NAME IS MAYA ROBINSON AND—”

The judge with the enormous purse leaned closer to me, cupping her hand over her ear. “WHAT? SWEETIE, I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THAT GUITAR.”

I gulped and tried to raise my voice even louder.

“I KNOW, SORRY. MY NAME IS—” The music paused as the guitar kid started talking to the judges about his project. My nerves were shattered, but I tried to keep going.

“Maya Robinson. This project may look similar to the same volcano you’ve seen a million times before, but it is actually something different. I decided to investigate the ways that our emotions are connected to our physical reactions.” I looked at the judges to see what their physical reactions were like. When you’re giving a presentation, always read the room, my mom had said. The judge with the purse was listening intently, but the one with the cool necktie seemed distracted.

He looked at me apologetically. “Sorry, hon. I’m trying to listen, but we’ve been here since seven in the morning and I skipped breakfast. I need a snack.”

“Oh, here!” The other judge pulled a granola bar out of her purse and tossed it to him lightly.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” said Necktie Judge. “But careful, we need to set a good example for the kids,” he joked. “Not too much throwing food. We wouldn’t want a food fight.”

As Necktie Judge was speaking, Marcus turned his amp back up even louder, and the end of the judge’s sentence was lost to the guitar.

Giant Purse Judge frowned at the guitar noise. “What’s that you said?”

Marcus turned it up even more, and I could see Principal Merriweather moving toward him from across the room, looking furious. Necktie Judge repeated himself, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“I SAID!” The screeching from the guitar continued.

“WE WOULDN’T!”

Principal Merriweather was waving her arms around, and Marcus was arguing with her.

“WANT! A! FOOD! FIGHT!”

At the exact same time as Necktie Judge finished his sentence, Principal Merriweather pulled the plug on the amp, ignoring Marcus’s protests. The guitar went silent. Everyone turned to look at the screaming judge.

Everyone. Including Ralph.

WANT A FOOD FIGHT?

My eyes widened. Why was Ralph responding without hearing his voice cue? And why was he reaching for Necktie Judge’s granola bar?

“Oh no.” It came out as a whisper. I’m pretty sure no one even heard me.