Trying to Get to the Dog Part

"I've got to say, you're in serious trouble," she said now, back to her old self. "I can't really imagine how you think you're going to pull this off in four days. There's no time to build it, to get the materials." Every year, the eighth graders at their school were given the same assignment: to design, build and demonstrate an invention.

“Well, that’s very helpful,” said Andy, as sarcastically as he could manage, considering his temples were starting to throb. “That’s why I called you, actually. So you could remind me how much trouble I’m in. I almost forgot.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You’re right. Have you thought about going in to see him, asking him—begging him—for help?” It was one of the things Andy liked most about Mia: she was an eternal optimist. He knew that if he made an appointment during Mr. Gallagher’s office hours, the man would be waiting for him like a spider in her web. He’d only lectured them every day for a month about “managing their time” and “spreading out the workload.” Each day Andy had carefully written the same note in his school-issued planner: Start Science project. And each night he had crossed it off, uncompleted, telling himself that he’d begin, for real, the following day.

“Won’t work,” Andy said, glumly. “Have you forgotten that he already, well… hates me? I need a project, and I need one fast, or I’ll fail science, and they won’t let me run track. High school will be even more miserable than I even thought it would be.” He could hear Mia rustling around in what he assumed was a kitchen cabinet, probably for a late-night snack.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “You’re right, I guess. And if you can’t run, then you might as well not even be in school.” Mia hated running, always said she didn’t see what the point was unless you were being chased, but she knew how much it meant to Andy. For the past few years she had been waiting at the finish line with her dad as Andy approached the old Presbyterian church in the center of town after the annual 5K. She was holding a bottle of cold water for him the last time around, and Andy’s mother had said, “Well, isn’t that a sweet thing to do?” in a way that had made Mia feel like an idiot. “Let me think about it. Okay? I’ll make myself a goal: project idea within 24 hours.”

“That sounds great, Mia,” Andy said. And it did. And for about 12 hours, Andy was feeling optimistic for the first time in a long time. Mia would save the day, find a project for him to do, provide him with all of the research and help him execute the invention itself.

The next morning, when Andy woke up, he was still in a guardedly good mood. It was a warm day, a spring day, and he had track practice after school. The only part of his day he was NOT looking forward to was his meeting with Dr. Gallagher.