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Chapter One
“History is more than just the study of the past. It shapes us. It defines us.” Ms. Beckman slammed her hands against her desk and leaned forward. “The only way to know yourself is to know your history. So I’m assigning a Heritage Project. You’ll have two weeks to write a ten page paper on your family tree.”
Ten pages? Yikes. This is going to be a disaster.
Ms. Beckman worked an imaginary shovel. “I want you to dig into your roots. Dig deep. Research your grandparents, great grandparents, great great grandparents! I expect a thorough investigation of your lineage.”
Well, there goes my 4.0.
The bell rang and my classmates hurried away.
“Ms. Beckman?”
“Yes?” She looked up from wiping the chalkboard. “How can I help you, Jasmine?”
I averted my eyes. “I was wondering if I could do an alternate assignment. I don’t mind writing a longer paper but…I can’t do the Heritage Project.”
“Why not?”
I blew out a slow breath. “I’m adopted. And my dad’s a single parent.”
“How exciting!” Her bright blue eyes lit up. “So your family tree has three branches.”
“No.” She totally doesn’t get it. “It has one. My adoption was closed. I couldn’t find my birth parents even if I wanted to.” And I don’t. They hadn’t wanted to know me, so I didn’t want to know them either.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Ms. Beckman looked embarrassed. “Well…I know you’re a conscientious student so… just do the best that you can.” She brightened. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll uncover something about your biological parents. This project could be a real breakthrough.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Not gonna happen.
I headed off to lunch.
In the cafeteria, I shoved down my irritation and grabbed a burger and fries.
“There you are!” My best friend Nikki popped up beside me as I paid for my food. She twirled one of the long blonde extensions braided into her dark hair and we grabbed seats at a nearby table. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you forever.”
“Sorry. I had to talk to Ms. Beckman after class.”
“What happened?” Nikki smirked. “Don’t tell me. After sixteen years of model behavior, you finally got a detention?”
“No. She assigned a Heritage Project. I have to research my family tree.”
“Oh.” Nikki’s smirk disappeared. “That could be tough.”
“Ya think?”
“Well,” her carefully penciled eyebrows drew together. “Maybe this isn’t all bad. This could be the perfect opportunity for the talk.”
“Maybe.” I’ve been putting off ‘the talk’ since second grade. My dad doesn’t know that I know I’m adopted. “I just don’t know how to-”
Crash!
My chair collapsed and I landed on the cold, tile floor.
The cafeteria went silent until Josh Matheson, an obnoxious basketball jock, stood and pointed at me. “Nerd down!”
The room burst into laughter.
Nikki’s eyes were wide. “Are you okay?”
I can’t believe this. I am a living, breathing example of Murphy’s Law. I stood with the little dignity I had left and grabbed another chair, testing it before sitting. “I’m fine. The universe just hates me today. How is your day going?”
“Pretty great, actually. You’ll never guess who’s in my study hall.”
After listening to Nikki all summer, I could. But I played along anyway. “Who?”
“Triple A. And I talked to him!”
“You talked to him?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Was it everything you hoped and dreamed of?”
Andrew “Triple A” Anderson
“Quit being sarcastic - this is my future husband we’re talking about.” Nikki proceeded to tell me, in agonizing detail, the story of how she’d approached Andrew (I refuse to call him ‘Triple A’) and asked to borrow a pencil. “And when he handed it to me, I swear, a beam of light shined down on us, like a sign that we’re supposed to be together.”
I rolled my eyes. Nikki turns into a total airhead whenever she gets a crush. From the way she talks about Andrew, you’d never guess she scored in the top thirty percent on the SAT. “I get that he’s ridiculously good-looking, but are you sure he can read?”
“I don’t care if he can read. He doesn’t even have to talk. He can just sit and look hot while I admire him.”
“Isn’t that what happens now?”
“Shutup! You know what I mean!” Nikki finished her apple and eyed my French fries.
I pushed them toward her. “Have some. I know you’re still hungry.”
She pushed them back. “I’m starving! But I need to lose twenty pounds before dance team tryouts next month.” Nikki’s got a body most girls would kill for, the kind you see in music videos, but she’s obsessed with the idea of moving from a size twelve to a two.
“Won’t dance practice clash with drama rehearsals?”
She shrugged. “I’m quitting drama.”
“What?” I dropped the fry between my fingers. Nikki is a drama queen in every sense of the word. “You can’t quit, you’re amazing on stage!”
“I know, but Triple A is graduating in May. If I’m ever gonna get his attention, I’ve gotta make my move now. You should try out with me.”
“No thanks. Secondhand arrogance kills.”
“Oh c’mon, you might actually have fun.”
“With the Barbie dolls? Yeh right.” I nodded towards Nina Casby, captain of the Morris Majestics dance team, as she pranced by in a white cami and absurdly short shorts. “She looks ridiculous. I think she’d come to school in her underwear if she could.”
Nikki frowned. “Quit exaggerating. It wouldn’t kill you to be trendy once a while.”
“I’m trendy.” I glanced down at my ‘Nuclear Physics is The Bomb!’ t-shirt.
“No. You’re not. First of all, Lara Croft is the only person who looks hot with a French braid. Second, that shirt needs to be retired. Forever. And don’t even get me started on those Urkel glasses. I swear, you could be so cute if you’d just try.”
“Like this?” I grabbed a handful of French fries and chewed with my mouth open. “Om nom nom!”
She laughed. “Seriously, when are you gonna take those things off?”
“Never.”
The thing is, I’ve got perfect vision. But I’m kind of self-conscious about my bright green eyes. They look weird against my brown skin and people are always asking where they came from and what I’m mixed with. It’s annoying. Because I don’t know.
In second grade, I wore big glasses with my mad scientist Halloween costume, and for once, no one mentioned my unusual eye color. Being teased for wearing huge glasses was easier than being teased for having freaky eyes. So I just kept wearing them.
“Jasmine, we’re not kids anymore. No one will think you’re from the Planet Voltron if you take your glasses off.”
I knew Nikki was right, but old insecurities ran deep. I crossed my arms. “I like them.”
She sighed and the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. “You’re totally hopeless.”
We headed off to class.
A sense of calm washed over me as I walked into the room for last period. I know it sounds corny, but a science lab is one of the few places where I feel totally at home.
“Jasmine. I should have known you’d be the one person to beat me here.” My friend Walt strode in, grinning, and sat down next to me.
“Hey.” I smiled as he laid out his pencils and straightened his tie. Walt has worn a tie to school everyday since sixth grade. He says it makes him feel professional. “Partners again?”
“Of course!” We’re lab partners every year. Nikki calls us Ebony and Ivory because of Walt’s pale skin, red hair, and freckles, but we’re a lot more alike than we are different. Next year, we’re hoping to be co-valedictorians and go to Dartmouth
“Earth to Jasmine.” Walt waved a hand in front of my face. “As I was saying, I switched to a new brand of agar and the results were-” He paused, mid-sentence and I followed his eyes to the door.
None other than Andrew Anderson, the king of the school himself, was sauntering through the doorway in baggy red basketball shorts and a white tee.
“You’ve got the wrong room,” I called. “This is AP Chemistry.”
“With Wozalski?”
I faltered a little. “Yeah.”
“Naw, I’m in the right place.” Seriously?
I turned to Walt, horrified. This could only mean disaster. AP Chemistry was my safe haven, and now Andrew Anderson was going to ruin it all. He’d probably hold up the class with stupid questions and shove his way to the front of the line for lab materials.
Andrew plopped down at the table behind ours. “Hey. I’m Andrew, but my friends call me Triple A.”
So? We weren’t his friends. I opened my textbook and ignored him, but Walt was too nice to leave him hanging. “We know who you are.” I glared at Walt. Andrew already had an entitlement complex; he didn’t need us to encourage it by acting like he was some kind of celebrity. “I’m Walt and this is Jasmine.”
“Cool. You guys look like you know your stuff in chemistry so maybe you can show me the ropes.”
“We look like we know about chemistry?” My voice was almost as cold as the look I gave him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Andrew looked surprised that I’d asked. “I, uh, I just meant that…you guys look smart. You know, with the glasses and everything.” I rolled my eyes. He was even dumber than I’d thought.
“So…” I responded in a voice I usually reserve for pre-school children. “You think that we’re good at chemistry because we wear glasses…” Walt shot me a look that said ‘Give him a break’ but I ignored him.
Andrew frowned. “I was joking. I only meant that you two look confident in here, like you know what to expect.” He shrugged. “I don’t.”
I pounced on that statement. “What do you mean? You need a B+ average in two years of honors science to be here. And you’ve gotta opt-in.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t take honors chem. I’m only here because the Dean of Admissions at Duke wants me to ‘increase the difficulty of my course load.” He didn’t sound excited about it.
I sighed in relief. “The guidance office must have made a mistake. You can’t take this class if you didn’t take honors chem. So just let them know, and you’re off the hook!” I was thrilled with my discovery until he burst my bubble.
“Naw, they know. My dad met with Principal Harrison and they waived the requirement.”
“Then just tell him you aren’t ready for this.” Walt shot me another ‘Stop being so rude’ look, but I ignored him. I wasn’t about to let Andrew ruin my favorite class.
“You don’t think I thought of that?” Andrew crossed his arms. “Trust me - I did. But he doesn’t care. If I don’t take the classes he wants and get the grades he expects, I can’t play ball this year.”
“No basketball? The horror!”
“Exactly.” Andrew nodded solemnly. “Anyway, I don’t know if you guys are any good at this stuff,” he eyed me warily, “but I might be a little lost in here and I’d appreciate any advice you can give. I’ve gotta make this work.”
Walt chimed in before I could respond. “We’d be glad to help. And we do know a thing or two about this stuff, especially Jasmine.” I shot him a look that said ‘shut up,’ but he kept going. “I know my way around a lab, but she’s pretty much the queen of chemistry.”
Andrew looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. “The queen of chemistry? Really?”
“No, not really.” I glared at them both and was working on a wittier comeback when the bell rang and a stream of students entered the room.
Mr. Wozalski bustled in behind them. He’s notoriously hands-off, so I was thrilled to hear he’d be teaching AP Chem. The official word is that he assigns a ton of lab work so students can learn by doing, but rumor has it that he can’t focus enough to teach because of his online poker addiction.
“Let’s start with some introductions. Tell us who you are and one interesting thing you did this summer. I’m Bill Wozalski and this summer I almost qualified for the World Series of Poker. Missed it by one hand...” He grumbled and focused on his computer screen, completely tuning us out.
We sat in silence for a moment until a cute brunette at the front of the room spoke up. “I guess I’ll get this party started. I’m Asia Jiminez and this summer I got stuck in an elevator with the Jonas Brothers. They’re even cuter in person and Nick smells like cotton candy and sunshine.” She put a hand to her heart and swooned dramatically.
We laughed and the guy sitting next to her grinned. “That’s gonna be tough to follow…”
When we finished introductions, Mr. Wozalski looked up from his screen and announced that it was time for us to pick lab partners. I was thinking about the work Walt and I would do this year when Mr. Wozalski dropped a bomb that completely changed my plans.
“I know you guys are used to picking your lab partners, but I do things a little differently. Part of being a good scientist is being able to work with a variety of people. So instead of choosing your partners, we’re going to do a blind draw.” A collective groan went up from the class.
He passed around a large empty container and a small stack of note cards cut in half. “I know, this is terrible, and you hate me. I’m okay with that. Write your name on one of these, fold it, and stick it in the jar.”
When the jar came to us, I nudged Walt. “Hey,” I whispered, “let’s fold ours into triangles so we can pick each other.”
He grinned. “It’s devious, but I like it.” We dropped our papers into the jar and I crossed my fingers.
When all of the names were in, Mr. Wozalski took the jar to his desk. “I guess we’ll start at the top of this list.” He eyed the attendance sheet. “Andrew Anderson, you’re up first.” So we were doing this in alphabetical order. Excellent. Walt’s last name is Baker so there was a good chance he’d pick me before anyone else could.
Andrew unfolded his long frame and walked to the front of the room. Please, I plead silently, pick anyone but me or Walt. I held my breath as he drew his hand out of the jar and held up a small white slip. It looked…triangular.
Oh no. He smirked and met my eyes.
My jaw dropped. Had Andrew overheard me? And if so, why on Earth would he do that? He unfolded the paper in agonizing slow motion and broke into a huge grin.
No. Please no.
“I’ve got Jasmine. Jasmine Powers.”
Girls around the room released a collective sigh as they lost their chance to be Andrew’s lab partner. I would’ve traded with any of them in a heartbeat. Now, instead of enjoying the awesome new lab equipment, I’d be babysitting a spoiled jock who was only here to maintain his basketball privileges.
As Andrew returned to his desk and Walt went to pick his partner from the jar, I turned around and hissed, “What is wrong with you? You heard what I told Walt and you broke us up on purpose!”
He grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re obviously thrilled about me being here, so I thought you might like to work together.” So that was it. This was his revenge for me being obnoxious at the beginning of class.
My blood boiled. “Look, I know I was a little rude, but did you really have to ruin my entire year?”
He blanched. “You’re actually mad. I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“Of course you didn’t!”
I turned around just in time to see Walt break into a smile. He’d picked Asia , the girl who met the Jonas Brothers. She was cute and funny so I knew he’d have a good time working with her. At least one of us was happy.
Once everyone was paired up, Mr. Wozalski made a seating chart and gave us free time for the rest of class. Walt’s new seat was far away and I was definitely not talking to Andrew, so I buried my nose in a book until the final book rang.
A shadow fell over me as I pushed back my stool; Andrew was leaning down with a grin. “Does this make me the chemistry king?”
I glared. It was going to be a long year.
Chapter Two
When I got to my locker, Nikki was waiting. “You’ll never believe what I heard in chorus today. Max Carter has been cheating on Janine with a girl from Lowell High.” She paused for dramatic effect. “For the last three months.”
“Wow. That’s…juicy.” I tried to feign interest for Nikki’s sake, but I didn’t know Max or Janine and I didn’t care about their relationship. My mind was occupied with thoughts of my terrible day. Between the stupid Heritage Project and Andrew ruining my favorite class, I was having one of my top ten worst days ever.
I slung my bookbag over one shoulder. “Let’s get out of- Dang!” The strap of my bag ripped loudly as it tore away from the main compartment before tumbling to the floor. “Uuuugh!” I leaned my head against my locker.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything. This bag is brand new. And remember how excited I was about AP chem?”
Nikki nodded.
“It’s ruined. Instead of getting partnered with Walt I got stuck with-”
“O.M.G.” Nikki interrupted me with big eyes.
Speak of the devil; Andrew Anderson was walking down the hall. As he sauntered to his locker, the crowd parted like the red sea. The only things missing were paparazzi and screaming fans.
No, wait, they were there too. He stopped at a locker a few up from mine, and Jen Valerie posed next to him while one of her plastics-in-training snapped the picture on her iPhone.
Nikki gaped. “You didn’t tell me Triple A’s locker is near yours!”
“I didn’t notice. I’m not the one who’s in love with him.”
“How could you not notice him?” I shrugged as Nikki asked a series of panicky questions. “How do I look? How is my breath? Is my lip gloss okay? Do you have lip gloss? I need more lip gloss!” The way she was shaking you’d think Justin Bieber himself was standing a few lockers away.
I handed her my ChapStick. “Relax. And breathe. You look great. And since you asked, sure, I can tell you about my day later. Let’s just change the subject and focus on how hot Andrew looks.”
My sarcasm was lost on her. “Oh no! Look!” Nikki’s jaw dropped and I followed her gaze. Jen Valerie Waldorf was standing on tiptoe and pulling Andrew down to whisper in his ear.
Nikki’s voice was panicked. “What is he doing? Why is he talking to her?”
Probably because she’s gorgeous and laughs at everything he says. Petite, with impossibly long eyelashes and silky waist-length hair, Jen Valerie is nothing short of adorable. But behind the sweet smile there’s a mean streak deeper than the Grand Canyon .
When I moved to New Jersey California
“You’re probably right. Ugh, she’s totally throwing herself at him. Tramp.”
Nikki’s not a Jen Valerie fan either. Last year, when she tried out for cheerleading, Jen Valerie announced that Nikki was “wasting her time because we don’t allow cows on the squad” and suggested she “break up with Ben and Jerry and get to know Jenny Craig.” Nikki didn’t make the team, but in a moment of epic karma, Jen Valerie took a spectacular fall off the top of the pyramid while Nikki was filming the routine to practice at home. She looped the footage and four thousand YouTube views later, Jen Valerie’s fall was featured on the Wake Up New Jersey Morning Show. They’ve been at war ever since.
Nikki frowned. “Why doesn’t Triple A just tell her to leave? Can’t he see that she’s totally fake? From her knock-off Chanel sunglasses to that weave she swears is real. Please. No one grows three feet of hair in one summer.”
Jen Valerie shrugged at something Andrew said and her massive chest bounced. “I don’t think everything about her is fake.”
“Trip-le A! You’re so bad!” Jen Valerie’s voice rang out across the hall and she playfully smacked Andrew’s hand. He said something that made her laugh and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Nikki’s face turned grey. “Did you see that? Omigosh- they-must-be-dating. He’s probably totally in love with her!”
“No he’s-”
“Now I have no chance! I have no chance and I’m going to die a crazy cat lady, old and alone, because no man will ever compare to my one true love.”
“Nikki, that’s-“
“I’ll have no husband and no kids, just my twenty-five cats and a collection of life-sized dolls and-”
“Nikki. Pause.” I interrupted. “First of all, sixteen is a little early to declare yourself a crazy cat lady. Second, we don’t know if they’re dating, they might just be flirting. And even if they are dating, who cares? You know these things don’t last. Now can we go?” I’d been ready to leave for the last few minutes but had continued to rifle through my locker so Nikki could finish drooling over Andrew.
“Hang on, he’s getting ready to leave and he has to pass us to get to the door.”
As Andrew passed with a group of his friends, Nikki tossed her braids and flashed a brilliant smile. “Hey Andrew.”
He paused. “Uhh. Heeeey…Nancy?”
“Nikki. It’s Nikki. And thanks again for the pencil. It was really helpful.”
“Yeah, sure.” His eyes traveled to me. “Jasmine. I didn’t know your locker was right here. Maybe you could help me out with a copy of your chem. homework in the mornings?” He licked his lips and I rolled my eyes. Was that supposed to be sexy?
I was getting ready to tell him that the Backstreet Boys had called and were asking for their moves back, when Jen Valerie interrupted. “Babe, why are we still standing here? Let’s go!” She tugged on his arm possessively.
Andrew ignored her and looked toward me. “So that’s a ‘no’ on the homework then?” I didn’t bother responding, just gave him a look that said ‘You’re kidding me right?’
He chuckled. “See you tomorrow, chem. queen.”
Nikki was silent until we were out of the school parking lot, where we could talk without being overheard. “O.M.G. What just happened back there?”
“We just left school…” I adjusted the remaining strap of my book bag and used one hand to shield my eyes from the sun. Nikki and I live at opposite ends of the same block, about half a mile from Morris. It’s too close to be on the bus route so until one of us gets a car, we’re stuck walking.
“I mean what just happened in the hall? Andrew was talking to you! He knows your name! And he called you chem queen… What’s that all about, you guys have secret pet names for each other or something?”
“No. Slow your roll, Nikki. Unfortunately, he’s my chem. lab partner and Walt thought it’d be funny to tell him I’m the ‘queen of chemistry’ so-”
“Wait, what?” Nikki interrupted. “He’s your lab partner?”
“Yes. That’s what I was trying to tell you before he walked by and you got all googly-eyed.”
“That’s your bad news?!? You’re crazy!” She shook her head. “I swear, some girls get all the luck. Omigosh.” She stopped suddenly.
“What?”
“I think this is a sign.” I made a confused face and Nikki continued. “You and Triple A being lab partners – it’s fate. We’re not supposed to talk in study hall, so I can’t get close to him at school. But you can.” Her eyes lit up. “So here’s what you do: talk to him as much as you can, earn his trust, and tell him how great I am. Then you can set the two of us up.”
She made the request sound simple, but I didn’t even want to talk to Andrew much less quiz him on his interests. “I don’t know… I doubt we’ll be talking much. And you know I’m no good at being smooth. I’ll be all, ‘Be careful, that Bunsen Burner is hot. And speaking of hot, you should see my friend Nikki!”
She laughed. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out. Please, Jas, this is super important.” She sounded desperate. And she had been trying to get Andrew’s attention for a while now.
“I guess it wouldn’t kill me to try…”
Nikki threw her arms around me. “I knew I could count on you! Now tell me everything he said today.”
I sarcastically recounted it all, including how Andrew was only in the class so he could play basketball and that he’d mockingly asked if being my partner made him the chemistry king.
Nikki giggled. “That’s so clever! Isn’t he hilarious?”
“Yeah.” I deadpanned. “Absolutely hilarious.”
That night, after I finished the rest of my homework, I started to outline my Heritage Project. I planned to interview my dad about his life and his parents, Grandma Ethel and Grandpa George. They’d lived with us in California
I missed everything about San Francisco Greensborough , New Jersey
I flipped to a clean page in my notebook and paused, wondering if I should bother asking my dad about my mother.
I never felt weird about not having a mom in San Francisco
After living here for a few weeks, I worked up the courage to ask my dad where my mother was. He’d said that she had to go away but she loved me very much then refused to answer any other questions. I don’t know if he really knows who my birth mother is, or if he just made that up, but whoever she is, she abandoned me. And I don’t need pity bonding from some stranger. So I stopped asking about my mother after I found my adoption papers.
I’ll never forget that day. It was shortly after I asked about my mom. Nikki and I were playing hide and seek while my dad worked in his office. When he went to the kitchen for a snack, I decided to hide under his desk. I knew Nikki would never look there.
My dad’s desk was covered in files, and as I was getting ready to climb under it, one of them caught my eye. The bottom half was covered by another stack of papers, but the top said ‘Adoption Documentation.’ I glanced down to the next line and was shocked to see my own last name. ‘Record of closed adoption for Baby Powers.’ That was me.
“Jasmine. What are you doing in here?”
I jumped. My dad was standing in the doorway, looking unhappy to find me in his office.
I stammered. “I…I…was just playing hide and seek with Nikki. I was gonna um, hide under your desk.”
My dad shook his head. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here. Find somewhere else to hide.”
“Okay. Sorry.” I nodded and ran out of the room.
Finding out that I’m adopted was a bit of a shock, but it actually made perfect sense. My dad and I are total opposites.
I’m slender, with tons of wild, curly black hair and crazy looking green eyes. He’s stocky, with wavy hair which is thinning on top and eyes so dark they almost look black. I spend my spare time in my basement lab. He spends his spare time reading legal briefs. He’s a morning person, I’m a night owl. I love junk food as much as he hates it. The only thing we have in common is that we’re both freakishly tall.
The day after finding my adoption papers, I sat down next to my dad while he watched CNN. “What’s a closed adoption?”
He looked at me strangely. “Why?”
“Uhhh.” I hadn’t prepared a response to that. “There’s a new girl at school. She was talking about it.”
“A closed adoption means the person involved doesn’t know who their birth parents are. And they can’t find them.”
I paused. “Was I adopted?”
“No!” He looked shocked. “Why would you ask that?”
“Well, we don’t look anything alike and we don’t like the same things and you say that mom had to go away but sometimes it seems like I never even had a mom at all.”
My father took a slow, deep breath. “Of course you had a mother. She just had to go away. But she-“
“I know.” I interrupted him. “She loves me very much. Are you sure I’m not adopted?”
To my surprise, my dad started tearing up. “Jasmine, I was there in the hospital the day you were born. I was the first person to hold you and I handed you to your mother. You’re my daughter.”
“Okay.” I could tell that the question had upset him so I didn’t press the issue any further.
Since that day, I’ve let my dad keep up the charade, but I wish he would just tell me the truth. He’ll always be my dad. I just want him to be honest.
The next day of school flew by, and before I knew it, it was time for chemistry class. I headed to the lab with a mixture of excitement and dread: excitement because we had a double lab period but dread because I’d be working with Andrew. He slid into the seat next to mine only seconds before the bell rang.
Mr. Wozalski stood. “Let’s get right into the swing of things. Today is your first lab: qualitative analysis of cations. There’s an instruction packet and it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Turn in your lab sheets when you’re done.” He sat back down and booted up his computer, tuning us out.
Andrew looked confused. “Qualitative analysis of what?”
“Cations. Positively charged ions. “I grabbed our materials from the back of the room.
Andrew flipped through the instruction packet as I started setting up.
“So what exactly are we doing?”
“We’ve got an unidentified substance,” I held up a test tube filled with murky yellowish brown liquid, “and we’ve got to figure out what’s in it.” I glanced at the first page of the instruction packet in his hand. “The possible ions are: lead, silver, copper, iron, nickel, and manganese. Three out of the six are in our solution.”
“So how do we know which ones we’ve got?”
“We’ll run a series of tests which allow us to isolate the different components.” He didn’t look like he was following so I added, “We’ll split it into parts. And they’ll be different colors.”
“Oh.” Andrew seemed to get that because he nodded. “So this is kinda like when you drink a Dr. Pepper and then try to name the twenty-three flavors.”
“Ummm…sort of…I guess.” I eyed him warily. “Just to be on the safe side, how about I take the lead on this one?” Like I’d ever intended to let him take charge. “This experiment is lengthy, but I’ve done it before in my lab at home so I should get through it pretty quickly.”
“Excuse me?” Andrew sputtered. “Did you just say that you’ve done this before? In your lab at home?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms. “I’m going to be a scientist so I’ve got a lab in my basement for practicing new techniques. I bet you’ve got a basketball hoop in your driveway, Air Jordan
He grinned. “Actually, it’s a full-sized court behind my house. Point taken.”
“As I was saying, I’ve done this before. So how about I do the experiment and you just…watch.”
He grinned again, this time showing off his notorious dimples. “Sure. I like to watch.”
I sighed and got to work, and pretty soon I was absorbed in the lab. I added hydrochloric acid to our solution and when an off-white solid formed, I knew it contained either lead or silver. Once I figured out which one, I’d be a third of the way through the procedure.
I headed across the room to the machine I needed and Andrew followed me. He pointed to the small, desktop contraption, with its dome shaped lid and deep circular slots. “What’s that?”
“A centrifuge. You stick a test tube into one of these slots and it spins around really fast. When it’s done, anything solid is separated from the liquid and settled at the bottom.” I stuck our test tube in with another one full of water, closed the lid, and flipped the switch to start it up. A few minutes later, it slowed to a stop. I removed our tube to take it back to our station.
Back at our lab table, I carefully poured the liquid away from our centrifuged mystery solid and into a second test tube. I set the liquid aside to get back to later; for now, I was focused on identifying my solid. I added twenty drops of hot distilled water and waited to see what would happen.
Silver chloride doesn’t dissolve in water, so when my solid disappeared I knew I had lead. But since you can never do too many confirmation tests, I added two drops of potassium chromate just for good measure. When a bright yellow solid formed, my conclusion was confirmed. There was lead in my mystery solution.
I recorded the results on my lab sheet. One phase of testing down, two more to go. And that was the quickest, least complicated of the three stages.
I sighed in irritation and grabbed our mystery solution, then reached for a clean eyedropper. The experiment would’ve gone faster if Walt had been my partner, but no, Andrew had to come and mess everything up. Stupid jocks, always making things difficult for people who actually want to learn.
When I turned back to my test tube, my breath caught in my throat.
No way. That isn’t possible.
Andrew looked up from fiddling with his iPhone, and I wrapped my hand around the tube, hiding it. My heart felt like it would beat through my chest.
“You ok?”
“Yep!” A bead of sweat formed on my forehead. “It’s just…really hot in here.” Either I was crazy or I was suffering from hallucinations. Maybe all the chemical fumes were getting to me.
Andrew shrugged and returned to his Facebook messaging. “Okay.”
I took a deep breath and waited until no one was watching to look at the test tube again.
What in the…? How could this…?
Somehow, while I was reaching for an eyedropper, my chemistry lab had finished itself.
