minutes ticked by, girls started squirming
nervously. Christie looked at her watch. She would have to hurry to make it to
her next class in time. Why did Miss Finney always keep them after the bell?
She seemed to think her class was the only one they had.
Finally the teacher stopped talking and told them they were
dismissed. The girls rushed to the table to grab their experiments and get out
the door.
"I got an A!" squealed Sarah.
"Lucky you," said another girl. "I only got a
B."
"I got a B, too," said someone else.
Nodding toward Sarah, Becca whispered to Christie, "She's
probably the only one who got an A."
Christie took her jar, glanced at it quickly, and stuffed it
into her backpack. Then she froze. Frowning, she reopened her pack and pulled
the jar back out. She looked at it again in disbelief. Printed boldly on the tape
next to her name was a D-!
CHAPTER 2
Christie stayed behind as the other girls left and shuffled
nervously from one foot to the other. Finally the teacher looked up.
"Yes, Miss Winchell?"
"Uh . . . Miss Finney," Christie managed to say. "I
got a D minus on my experiment. Is that right? I mean . . . did you really mean
to give me that grade?"
"Of course. Otherwise why would I have given it to you?"
Christie couldn't believe her ears. She had never gotten a D
in her whole life. "What did I do wrong, Miss Finney?"
The teacher stared at her for a moment. "You obviously
hurried your experiment, Miss Winchell. Your celery had barely changed to red.
I suggest that you follow instructions more carefully next time, and give
yourself time to complete the experiment properly. "
Christie was about to protest that she had, but the look on
Miss Finney's face stopped her. Her shoulders sagged, and she left the room.
"I'm sorry I'm late, ma'am," Christie apologized
as she slipped into Mrs. Eberhardt's English literature class. The teacher
nodded and continued lecturing.
Christie pulled out her English book and looked over the
shoulder of the girl in front of her to see what page the class was on. Then
she settled back to try to listen.
Instead her mind kept going back to Miss Finney's class and
the experiment with the celery. What could she have done wrong? She went over
the instructions in her mind. She knew them word for word. She had been
careful, and she had taken her time.
Christie tried to remember how the jars lined up on the lab
table in Miss Finney's room had looked. She couldn't remember there being that
much difference in the color of any of the stalks. Maybe Sarah's celery was a
little more red than the others. Christie didn't know for sure. But she was
sure that hers wasn't so different from the others that she deserved a D-.
Maybe there had been a glare on the glass, and Miss Finney just hadn't been
able to see the color of her celery very well. Christie's spirits lifted. I'll
just take it back to her and have her look at it again, she decided.
Just as quickly her spirits spiraled downward. I can't do
that, she thought. Miss Finney might think I put more color in it before I
brought it back. She'll say I cheated.
Sitting up straight, Christie clenched her fists. Mr.
Dracovitch, her science teacher back in the States, had made science so
interesting, she was sure now that she wanted to be a scientist. Her parents
had told her that if she made good enough grades, she might even be able to go
to Oxford University here in England. Oxford was supposed to be one of the best
universities in the world.
I know I can get an A in science, she thought. I'll
try twice as hard on the next project. No, ten times as hard. Feeling
better, she focused on what Mrs. Eberhardt was saying.
"There's a letter for you, sweetheart," Mrs.
Winchell said as Christie walked into the kitchen after school.
Christie dropped her books on the counter and grabbed the
mail.
"It's from Chase," said her mother, smiling. "This
is your lucky day." Christie took the letter upstairs to her room to read
it in
nervously. Christie looked at her watch. She would have to hurry to make it to
her next class in time. Why did Miss Finney always keep them after the bell?
She seemed to think her class was the only one they had.
Finally the teacher stopped talking and told them they were
dismissed. The girls rushed to the table to grab their experiments and get out
the door.
"I got an A!" squealed Sarah.
"Lucky you," said another girl. "I only got a
B."
"I got a B, too," said someone else.
Nodding toward Sarah, Becca whispered to Christie, "She's
probably the only one who got an A."
Christie took her jar, glanced at it quickly, and stuffed it
into her backpack. Then she froze. Frowning, she reopened her pack and pulled
the jar back out. She looked at it again in disbelief. Printed boldly on the tape
next to her name was a D-!
CHAPTER 2
Christie stayed behind as the other girls left and shuffled
nervously from one foot to the other. Finally the teacher looked up.
"Yes, Miss Winchell?"
"Uh . . . Miss Finney," Christie managed to say. "I
got a D minus on my experiment. Is that right? I mean . . . did you really mean
to give me that grade?"
"Of course. Otherwise why would I have given it to you?"
Christie couldn't believe her ears. She had never gotten a D
in her whole life. "What did I do wrong, Miss Finney?"
The teacher stared at her for a moment. "You obviously
hurried your experiment, Miss Winchell. Your celery had barely changed to red.
I suggest that you follow instructions more carefully next time, and give
yourself time to complete the experiment properly. "
Christie was about to protest that she had, but the look on
Miss Finney's face stopped her. Her shoulders sagged, and she left the room.
"I'm sorry I'm late, ma'am," Christie apologized
as she slipped into Mrs. Eberhardt's English literature class. The teacher
nodded and continued lecturing.
Christie pulled out her English book and looked over the
shoulder of the girl in front of her to see what page the class was on. Then
she settled back to try to listen.
Instead her mind kept going back to Miss Finney's class and
the experiment with the celery. What could she have done wrong? She went over
the instructions in her mind. She knew them word for word. She had been
careful, and she had taken her time.
Christie tried to remember how the jars lined up on the lab
table in Miss Finney's room had looked. She couldn't remember there being that
much difference in the color of any of the stalks. Maybe Sarah's celery was a
little more red than the others. Christie didn't know for sure. But she was
sure that hers wasn't so different from the others that she deserved a D-.
Maybe there had been a glare on the glass, and Miss Finney just hadn't been
able to see the color of her celery very well. Christie's spirits lifted. I'll
just take it back to her and have her look at it again, she decided.
Just as quickly her spirits spiraled downward. I can't do
that, she thought. Miss Finney might think I put more color in it before I
brought it back. She'll say I cheated.
Sitting up straight, Christie clenched her fists. Mr.
Dracovitch, her science teacher back in the States, had made science so
interesting, she was sure now that she wanted to be a scientist. Her parents
had told her that if she made good enough grades, she might even be able to go
to Oxford University here in England. Oxford was supposed to be one of the best
universities in the world.
I know I can get an A in science, she thought. I'll
try twice as hard on the next project. No, ten times as hard. Feeling
better, she focused on what Mrs. Eberhardt was saying.
"There's a letter for you, sweetheart," Mrs.
Winchell said as Christie walked into the kitchen after school.
Christie dropped her books on the counter and grabbed the
mail.
"It's from Chase," said her mother, smiling. "This
is your lucky day." Christie took the letter upstairs to her room to read
it in
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