“It just needs to be perfect, Dad. This is like ninety percent of my grade this marking period.”
“Stop exaggerating. It’s not ninety percent. It’s not even twenty percent of your grade. Your teacher said it was extra credit, and you already have an A so calm down.” He smiles and says, “You know, you remind me of myself when I was your age. In fact, I seem to remember doing something very similar. I was obsessed with math and science and won first place in my science fair that year with a very similar-looking solar system.”
“No pressure or anything, Dad!” First place? Ugh!
We pull up to the school, and I see all of the familiar faces from my science class. Cassie’s here with her grandparents. She didn’t do a project; she’s just here to support me.
“Oooh! Look at the planets.” She stares into the back of our SUV. My mother disappeared as soon as we got here and quickly emerges from the building with a rolling cart.
“It should fit nicely on this,” she exclaims, very proud of herself with the assist.
“That’s perfect, honey,” my dad says, and they smile at each other. I swear, I never see them upset, sad or arguing.
With my help, we slide the solar system onto the cart and carefully roll it into our gymnasium that’s been converted to a science fair.
I look around and don’t see any other solar systems. Phew!
“Let’s get this to your table.” Dad maneuvers through the crowds of people and expertly transfers the solar system onto my table.
I circle the display, making sure every pin is in place, every planet is in proper alignment. After confirming the labels are in the correct places, I take a deep breath. “It looks good, Dad.”
“It sure does. You’ve got yourself a winner here,” he says proudly and pulls me into his chest for one of his famous hugs.
I scan the other displays and try to find my steepest competition. Eddie Boyle is testing his volcano, and it doesn’t seem to be working. Trisha O’Toole has a greenhouse-like contraption with a lopsided tomato plant as its focal point. Piper Greenstein is watering a sunflower, and there may or may not be a bumble bee buzzing over her head. Nice touch, Piper.
There are at least fifteen other students fussing with their displays and worry begins to set in.
“You’ve got this,” my dad whispers in my ear. “Don’t let them see you sweat.”
“I don’t know, Dad. Piper has a live bumble bee.” We both look over toward her table when Mr. Fahey swats at the bee, knocking it to the floor, and then stomps on it.
“Not anymore.” My dad laughs.
“Ew,” I say as Mr. Fahey grinds his foot into the floor even harder. I think it’s officially mushed.
Good, Piper no longer has a chance now that her bee is dead.
“Boys and Girls. Moms and Dads.” Mr. Fahey’s voice is barely audible over the speaker system.
“Thank you for coming today to the Fifth Grade Science Fair. I know the students who chose to participate worked really hard on their projects.” His eyes scan the room and find Cassie. She refused to do a project and didn’t care if she missed out on the opportunity to get a boost in her grade. I know he was disappointed that she decided not to participate.
“For the next sixty minutes, science teachers from other schools in our district and I, will make our way to each display. We will rate it on several factors, including accuracy, size and scale, functionality and overall merit. Good luck to all of you and we’ll announce winners when we’re finished.”
“What does merit mean?” I ask my father.
“It means it has to be good overall. They’ll take it all under consideration and base their judgment on that. Don’t worry, Sam. Your solar system is perfect.”
“You mean our solar system.” I smile and give him a kiss.