Free Tj and the Rockets by Hazel Hutchins Page A

sitting innocently, looking up again. I looked up too. There was Alaska, all black and orange and white, sitting on top of the medicine cabinet. She had squeezed in between the shampoo and the hair gel. She was pushing hairpins into the bathtub below.
    Clink
.
    This one landed on the floor instead of in the tub. T-Rex ignored it.
    â€œBe careful,” I told Alaska.
    There wasn’t much room for her between the hair gel and shampoo. Shehad to keep reaching further and further behind the containers to find the pins. The hair gel gave a little wobble.
    â€œLook out,” I told her.
    But even I couldn’t see what was coming next.
    â€œAlaskaaa!”
    When my best friend, Seymour, arrived ten minutes later, I was holding a towel-wrapped kitten under each arm.
    â€œDid you know a single pair of cats can cover an entire bathroom with hair gel?” I asked. “First they push it off a high shelf so that it explodes and then they dance in it.”
    â€œAnother amazing cat fact,” said Seymour.
    We’d done a report on cats last year. We were always looking for new facts.
    â€œDoes the dance include dressing up like Egyptian mummy-cats?” asked Seymour.
    â€œThey looked like a couple of punk rockers a few minutes ago,” I said. “I had to get them washed before they started licking themselves. Here, take this.”
    I handed T-Rex to Seymour for drying. I dried Alaska. We set them on the floor.Alaska shook one back leg and then the other as if she were doing some sort of disco dance. T-Rex walked around like a high-stepping wet rat. Seymour and I couldn’t help it. We laughed so hard our sides hurt. The kittens looked disgusted and went into the living room.
    I grabbed my schoolbooks from the table. Seymour pointed to the box that Gran had left.
    â€œWhat’s that?” he asked.
    â€œGran seems to think it’s my science project,” I said.
    â€œLooks like a mess to me,” said Seymour as we headed out the door. “Did I tell you? I’m not going to do a regular project.”
    â€œEveryone has to do a science fair project,” I said.
    â€œI’m not,” said Seymour. “I’m doing something better.”
    And that was all I could get out of him because we were late and had to run for it.

Chapter 2
    It’s like I always say—our teacher, Ms. Kovalski is a witch. She
knows
things.
    SCIENCE FAIR!
    It was written on the blackboard when we got to school that morning. Not one word about it until now, but as soon as Seymour and I thought about it just the tiniest amount, there she was way ahead of us.
    â€œThis is it—the year you get to do the best projects ever and display them in the gym. Has anyone decided what to do?” she asked.
    There was a long moment of silence. Then Gabe called from the back of the room.” I’ve decided to be sick that day!”
    Everyone turned to look at him. Gabe is
never
sick. If he were sick, his parents would make him stay home from hockey practice or soccer practice or baseball practice. Gabe hates school, but he loves sports. He doesn’t play sick. Ever.
    The next moment everyone else started calling out too.
    â€œI’m going to be sick the whole week!” said Jen.
    â€œI’m going to be sick the whole month!” said Roddy.
    â€œI’m going to be sick for the rest of the year!” said Mia.
    I hadn’t realized that everyone in class felt the way I did. Even Amanda Baker, the smartest kid in the room, was nodding her head.
    We all knew what was going to happen. One part of the gym would be full of the amazing projects done by Mr. Wilson’s class. The other part of the gym would have the very ordinary, very pathetic-looking attempts done by the kids who didn’t have Mr. Wilson for a teacher. We’d all seen it. I guess we’d all secretly assumed, backwhen we were little, that we’d be the ones in Mr. Wilson’s class with the