me. Alyssa Thompson--"
I didn't hear anything else. See me . That was it. It was over. I was going to have to walk out of there, a failure before I'd even begun. Matt would get the scholarships, Matt would get the glory, Matt would know he was always the superior scientist and I was nothing.
And there my eyeballs were again, moving to the right against my will. Why do they have to do that? Who's in charge here? I fought them as hard as I could, but they wouldn't be satisfied until they locked onto Matt's face and saw for themselves what he thoughtabout the whole situation--was he laughing? Was he sorry for us? Did he even care?
All I knew was that he was looking at me. I caught that flash of brown iris and then got my eyeballs out of there as fast as I could.
Meanwhile Mr. Fizer had finished reading his verdicts. He told the acceptable people to begin work--at the computers, in the research files, wherever they chose--while the unacceptables (just Nick and me) should come up when called.
"Mr. Langan?" He took Nick outside. Not good. They were out in the hall for at least ten minutes, and when Nick came back he looked even paler than a blond guy with blond eyebrows can normally look. Really not good.
"Miss Locke?" Mr. Fizer called from the doorway.
I took the long walk across the room. Managed not to look at Matt along the way, even though he was sitting at one of the computers near the door.
There was nothing to say. I just stood there in the hall and prepared to take it.
"Have your parents agreed to this?" Mr. Fizer asked.
That wasn't what I was expecting. "Um, yes, sir." Which wasn't technically true--my parents knew about it, but so far they hadn't exactly endorsed the plan.
"An interesting idea," he said. "And ambitious."
Ambitious sounded good. I think. Still, little beads of sweat broke out on my nose.
"However, I do question a few of your items. 'Rule number one,'" he read from my paper. "'Subject may eat only foods that would have been available to early hominins.'" He studied me over the top of his glasses. "Are you certain you want to take that position?"
"Um ... I think so."
"Interesting. I assume by now you've researched what they ate?"
"Yes, sir." Sweat was starting to bubble all over my skin. I had the feeling this could go very, very badly.
"And what do you believe they subsisted on?" he asked. "Primarily?"
I swallowed. There was no point in lying--he could look it up as well as I could. "Rotten meat and tubers."
"I see. How do you propose duplicating their diet?" He held out his hand to stop me from answering yet. "In a way your parents will approve of?"
"Oh. Well, I wasn't really going to eat bad meat--I don't even like meat all that much. I was mostly going to stick with the plant foods they ate--you know, potatoes for tubers, lettuce instead of grass ... vegetables ... berries ... stuff like that...."
I sounded like I hadn't thought it through for even five minutes. This wasn't going well.
"I think you need to reconsider that first requirement," Mr. Fizer told me. "Live with it for a few days. Poor parameters make for poor science."
Not going well at all. "Yes, sir."
He referred to my proposal again. "Now, for the second half of that rule: No processed, manufactured, chemically altered, or preserved foods. That seems more attainable, doesn't it?"
Finally, something he liked. "Yes, sir." But I was wrong.
"I think you'll actually find it quite difficult to attain," he said. "There's an astonishing amount of chemical adulteration in our food supply. You'll be surprised once you begin investigating it. But I'll leave that to you to research more fully."
"Yes, sir." I didn't even want to listen anymore. Clearly Mr. Fizer hated my project. I was starting to think I might hate it, too.
"Next item," he continued. "Exception number four, giving you the use of a stove and oven to duplicate fire--"
"Oh, okay," I interrupted before he could say any more. "Then I guess I could just use our
I didn't hear anything else. See me . That was it. It was over. I was going to have to walk out of there, a failure before I'd even begun. Matt would get the scholarships, Matt would get the glory, Matt would know he was always the superior scientist and I was nothing.
And there my eyeballs were again, moving to the right against my will. Why do they have to do that? Who's in charge here? I fought them as hard as I could, but they wouldn't be satisfied until they locked onto Matt's face and saw for themselves what he thoughtabout the whole situation--was he laughing? Was he sorry for us? Did he even care?
All I knew was that he was looking at me. I caught that flash of brown iris and then got my eyeballs out of there as fast as I could.
Meanwhile Mr. Fizer had finished reading his verdicts. He told the acceptable people to begin work--at the computers, in the research files, wherever they chose--while the unacceptables (just Nick and me) should come up when called.
"Mr. Langan?" He took Nick outside. Not good. They were out in the hall for at least ten minutes, and when Nick came back he looked even paler than a blond guy with blond eyebrows can normally look. Really not good.
"Miss Locke?" Mr. Fizer called from the doorway.
I took the long walk across the room. Managed not to look at Matt along the way, even though he was sitting at one of the computers near the door.
There was nothing to say. I just stood there in the hall and prepared to take it.
"Have your parents agreed to this?" Mr. Fizer asked.
That wasn't what I was expecting. "Um, yes, sir." Which wasn't technically true--my parents knew about it, but so far they hadn't exactly endorsed the plan.
"An interesting idea," he said. "And ambitious."
Ambitious sounded good. I think. Still, little beads of sweat broke out on my nose.
"However, I do question a few of your items. 'Rule number one,'" he read from my paper. "'Subject may eat only foods that would have been available to early hominins.'" He studied me over the top of his glasses. "Are you certain you want to take that position?"
"Um ... I think so."
"Interesting. I assume by now you've researched what they ate?"
"Yes, sir." Sweat was starting to bubble all over my skin. I had the feeling this could go very, very badly.
"And what do you believe they subsisted on?" he asked. "Primarily?"
I swallowed. There was no point in lying--he could look it up as well as I could. "Rotten meat and tubers."
"I see. How do you propose duplicating their diet?" He held out his hand to stop me from answering yet. "In a way your parents will approve of?"
"Oh. Well, I wasn't really going to eat bad meat--I don't even like meat all that much. I was mostly going to stick with the plant foods they ate--you know, potatoes for tubers, lettuce instead of grass ... vegetables ... berries ... stuff like that...."
I sounded like I hadn't thought it through for even five minutes. This wasn't going well.
"I think you need to reconsider that first requirement," Mr. Fizer told me. "Live with it for a few days. Poor parameters make for poor science."
Not going well at all. "Yes, sir."
He referred to my proposal again. "Now, for the second half of that rule: No processed, manufactured, chemically altered, or preserved foods. That seems more attainable, doesn't it?"
Finally, something he liked. "Yes, sir." But I was wrong.
"I think you'll actually find it quite difficult to attain," he said. "There's an astonishing amount of chemical adulteration in our food supply. You'll be surprised once you begin investigating it. But I'll leave that to you to research more fully."
"Yes, sir." I didn't even want to listen anymore. Clearly Mr. Fizer hated my project. I was starting to think I might hate it, too.
"Next item," he continued. "Exception number four, giving you the use of a stove and oven to duplicate fire--"
"Oh, okay," I interrupted before he could say any more. "Then I guess I could just use our
Similar Books
All To Myself
Annemarie Hartnett
Doctor Who: The Trial of a Time Lord : The Ultimate Foe
Pip Baker, Jane Baker
Atlantic Fury
Hammond; Innes
Reason For Vengeance (Dark Vengeance Book 1)
Adrian D Roberts
Cupid's Confederates
Jeanne Grant
Ear-Witness
Mary Ann Scott
The Coal War
Upton Sinclair
Juba Good
Vicki Delany
Shatner Rules
William Shatner