Free Brendan Buckley's Sixth-Grade Experiment by Sundee T. Frazier Page B

that she
wasn’t
there. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
    Dad called my name.
    â€œI’ve got to go. See you later.” I walked backward until Morgan finally turned away. When I looked again, she was sitting next to Mom.
Great
.
    I found Khal behind the platform and started to warm up with the other students, though I was still plenty warm from the encounter with Morgan.
    â€œWhat’s on your uniform?” Khal asked. “Someone spill their coffee?”
    â€œYou don’t want to know.” Truth was,
I
didn’t want him to know. I’d never hear the end of it.
    â€œWait a minute. That’s not …”
    â€œI said you don’t want to know.”
    â€œAw, man! You’re not standing next to
me
out there! I don’t want to smell that mess. And no way am I sitting next to you on Extreme Scream.” Extreme Scream is a ride that lifts you a few hundred feet up a tower, then drops you in about two seconds. Khal and I
always
ride Extreme Scream together.
    â€œYou can’t even smell it,” I said. “I washed it off.”
    Khal’s eyes slid in the direction of the audience. “I bet the Belcher will ride it with you.” He grabbed me around the shoulders and pretended to be scared. “Oooh,” he made his voice go high, “Brendan! Save me! Save me! Ew, what’s that horrible
smell
? Oh, it’s probably just me. Oooh! Brendan, Brendan! You’re so
beautiful
!”
    I shoved him away. “Knock it off.”
    Dad eyed us from the front row.
    â€œFine,” I said. “Don’t stand next to me. I don’t care.” Actually, I did, but I was mad at Khal for making fun of me. And mad at myself for doing a back flop onto a cow pie. Now I had to perform in front of a big crowd—a crowd that included Morgan, which didn’t really matter, but still, she
was
a girl from school—with a huge poop stain on my butt!
    I punched, kicked, jumped, and blocked, trying to keep my body to the front as much as possible. If I had to spin, I did it as fast as I could. I saw a lady whisper and point. She was probably saying to the person next to her,
What’s that big blotch on that boy’s jacket? It looks like Australia!
    Finally, we were bowing to Master Rickman and everyone was applauding. The crowd started to disperse.
    Morgan ran up as soon as I got off the stage and gushed like a geyser about what a great job I’d done. Khal fluttered his eyelids behind her back. I ignored him.
    â€œGo change your clothes,” Dad said. “I hope you know how to work with bleach.”
    â€œYes, sir,” I said. I found the nearest bathroom and took my time changing.
    Fortunately, when I came out, Morgan had taken off with her dad to check out the rest of the fair. Khal and I headed for Extreme Scream. We rode it five times in a row—until my head felt like it was still stuck somewhere up in the clouds and my stomach couldn’t take one more drop. Then we headed to the nearest snack booth and loaded up on Cow Chip Cookies.

“She’s such an expressive, articulate girl,” Mom said as we sat at the table finishing our lunch the next day. Dad was at the library studying. This wasn’t the first time Mom had said something about Morgan since meeting her at the fair.
    â€œYeah, she’s loud and talkative, all right,” I said.
    Mom’s lips pulled down as if she disapproved, but I could tell she was only half serious. “Are you excited about setting up your experiment?”
    Morgan would be arriving soon with the things she’d agreed to bring: a scale, disposable gloves like they wear in doctors’ offices, and sixteen round latex balloons. She also said she could contribute at least eight two-liters. We needed sixteen of them, as well—fifteen for holding the manure mixtures, and one that we’d leave empty as a control.
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œThat sounded