On Friday, we turn in the 2nd part of our project to Mr. Stoker before school.
“So, you’re going to volunteer at the Pet Hut?” he asks.
“Lucy volunteered us to work in data entry,” Windy whines. She told me last night and again this morning on the bus that she thought our project was boring.
“They don’t have a good system,” I say. “Most of their information is still on paper.”
“So the problem is that the shelter has an antiquated filing system, and the solution is that you are going to update it?” Mr. Stoker asks.
“I guess,” Windy says. “It was Lucy’s idea.”
“She had a good reason,” Levi adds. It’s true that I did it to save a dog. But I’m really excited to get all the numbers and data. By looking through only 57 applications, I’ve already seen trends. Small dogs are adopted almost 2 times as fast as big dogs, at least in my sample.
“You don’t like this project, Windy?” Mr. Stoker asks.
She shrugs. “I want to do something bigger.”
“Like?”
“We could run an adoption fair at Liberty Park,” Windy says. “We could bring the dogs out to meet people.”
“Okay.” Mr. Stoker nods.
“Or the shelter always needs people to take the dogs for walks so that they get exercise.” The place has a designated walking trail in the back. You have to pick up dog poop in a plastic bag. Something I’m probably not physically capable of doing.
Mr. Stoker doesn’t say anything, so Windy keeps talking.
“Maybe we could set up a program for retired people or homeschooled kids to go in and exercise and play with the animals. Or we could organize a pet-food drive at school. Students could donate bags of food, and teachers could give them homework passes as a reward.”
“All your ideas are great,” Mr. Stoker says. “But you need buy-in from everyone in the group. Give it some more thought. How can you help the shelter? How can each of you get something out of the experience?”
“That’s what I keep telling them.” It doesn’t take much to get Windy excited. “We can change lives. We can make a huge difference for the animals and their future owners and the whole town.”
Levi groans.
“Do you have any thoughts?” Mr. Stoker asks Levi.
“I like hanging out with the dogs.” He shrugs. “And I want to see them find homes.”
“Can you bring me some more ideas by next Friday?” He looks at Levi and then at me.
“Definitely,” Windy answers.
“Great.” Mr. Stoker stands up. The homeroom bell rings on cue.
“We’ll talk about this at lunch,” Windy says. She takes our papers and goes to her desk.
“Can’t wait.” Levi glares at the back of Windy’s head. Our team may not survive this project.
“Be nice,” I whisper. I need them to not kill each other long enough that I can finish playing with numbers from the Pet Hut.
I move to my assigned seat. I sit, stand, sit, stand, sit and wipe down my desk. No one really notices anymore. It’s only weird now if we have a substitute.
After the morning announcements, Mr. Stoker returns our math tests from Tuesday. He lays them facedown on our desks.
“The average grade was 82. The highest grade was 95, and the lowest was 60.” He gives us this data after every test. The class is averaging an 83.75 so far, not including homework. I wish my classmates would get it together and pull up their grades. I want to be average, but I also want an A. I have to think about colleges for next year, and they will want to see more than my SAT scores.
When Mr. Stoker gets to my desk, he leans over and says, “Nice job. A 92. Again.”
I look up. He raises his eyebrows and shrugs like he can’t explain the coincidence that is my math grade. Maybe next time I’ll ace it. And then I’ll blow 1. Then I’ll ace 2 more. I just have to be careful not to set up a pattern.
Levi groans when he sees his grade. He got the 60. He flips his test over and starts to doodle on the back.
Mr. Stoker moves to the front of the room. “Let’s go over the test.”
He uses the overhead projector to put up the 1st 3 questions. Immediately, I see he’s made a mistake in the 2nd question. I got number 2 wrong on my test. But I did it on purpose. Did Mr. Stoker?
He runs through the 1st problem. I play nervously with my lightning-bolt necklace.
“Any questions?”
The class is quiet except for an exaggerated yawn from the back row. Then Mr. Stoker walks through the 2nd problem, outlining the steps with his red marker.
Stop! That’s wrong.
I don’t say anything. I can’t.
I stare at Maddie, willing her to speak up. She’s the smartest kid in the class after me, but she doesn’t seem to be paying attention.
“Any question on number 2? Most of you got this problem wrong.”
You did, too!
He looks around the room. His eyes stop on me, and I look out the window.
Please, Maddie, say something. Speak!
“Mr. Stoker?” Maddie calls out.
I’ve never been so happy to hear her voice. Did my brain send a telepathic message? This is a new skill.
“Yes?”
“May I go to the bathroom?”
“Yes, Maddie.” Mr. Stoker adjusts the overhead. “Moving on….”