Brendan Buckley's Sixth-Grade Experiment Read Online Free PDF

announced.
    Mom gasped. “You’ve passed me by half an inch!” Her green eyes watered. Mom wasn’t going to cry, was she? She isn’t usually a crier.
    Dad pounded me on the back. “Way to go, buddy! Three inches since last year.”
    I looked at the marks. It was crazy to see how much I’d grown in the past few years. Even crazier to think I might one day be as tall as Dad.
    Mom had turned away to get something from the counter. When she turned back, her eyes looked normal again. She handed me a stiff notebook with a black and white marbled cover and a black binding. It said COMPOSITION on the front and had lines for the user’s name, school, and grade.
    â€œI know you were keeping a question notebook this summer,” Mom said. “I thought you might like to have a new notebook for starting middle school. A place to write down things you’re thinking about.”
    â€œYou mean, like a
journal
?” I felt my face scrunch up. Weren’t journals for girls?
    Dad spoke up. “You could think of it as a log, like officers keep when they’re on duty.”
    â€œOr like scientists keep when they’re doing research,” Mom said. “It could be your own private lab book—a place to record your observations about being in the sixth grade.”
    A scientific log. Now, that was more like it. I could already see the title page:
Inquiries and Investigations of a Sixth-Grade Scientist: A Log by Brendan S. Buckley
.
    â€œThanks, Mom.” I put the logbook in my backpack and we all went down to the garage.
    â€œRemember to show respect to your new teachers,” Dad said, giving me a sideways hug. He gripped my head with his large palm.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    He kissed Mom. “See you tonight—after my first class. Wish me luck.”
    â€œShould we measure you, too?” Mom smiled and kissed him again. “And you don’t need any luck. You’ll do great.”
    Mom and I got in her car and she drove me to school. It was just a couple of minutes’ ride. After today, I’d be walking—at least until I could save up enough allowance money to buy a new bike. My old one had been stolen one day this summer when I’d left it in the bushes at a bus stop. I’d been secretly going to see Grandpa Ed. It had been a stupid thing to do. Not visiting Grandpa Ed—just the way I went about it. I had learned the hard way that keeping secrets like that from my parents didn’t pay.
    Mom pulled in to the turnaround and stopped near the front of the school, in line with several other cars dropping kids off. “First day of middle school. My boo is truly growing up.” She was getting mushy on me again. I had to make my escape quick, before she planted her lips on my face.
    â€œSee you later, Mom.” I hopped out of the car.
    Mom leaned over and looked out the passenger door. “See you right here after school. Got it?”
    â€œGot it.” I shut the door firmly and turned toward the building. I heard the automatic window roll down.
    â€œLove you!” she called out.
    â€œMe too!” I yelled over my shoulder.
    A few steps later, I turned for real and waved. The car hadn’t moved, of course. She blew me a kiss. We grinned at each other. I love my mom. I just didn’t want her to give me a big smooch in front of a bunch of other kids on my first day of middle school.
    I walked toward the entrance, gripping the straps on my backpack. Khal had told me he’d heard of sixth graders getting shoved into lockers, or having their underwear ripped off and hung in the bushes. Would I get stuffed into a locker or be tackled for my underpants?
    Dozens of kids milled around on the sidewalk and playing field. No one else seemed in a hurry to get inside, but I wanted to go say hi to Mr. Hammond. My fifth-grade and favorite teacher of all time had taken an open science position at Eastmont, so he was moving from