“They call it an ‘elective,’ but I NEVER would have elected it!” wailed Izzy.
“Maybe you could talk to your guidance counselor,” said Allie, “and ask to be transferred. But you’re going to have to take Forensics at some point this year. So you might as well get it over with.”
“But,” Izzy sputtered, “I’m—”
Izzy didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence because three kids came over to ask Allie for help. Word was already out that Allie could remember your locker combination and figure out ways to help you remember it, too.
At the same time, a bunch of runners came over to make sure that Charlie was going to try out for the track and field team. Evidently, Charlie’s reputation for speed had followed her to middle school. As the boys in the group talked to Charlie, Izzy saw without surprise that they stumbled over their words and got kind of red in the face. Izzy had seen this happen many times before. Charlie was so beautiful—with her wide hazel eyes—that boys lost their train of thought and forgot what they were saying when they looked at her. Charlie herself was completely oblivious to the effect she had on people and stayed unruffled, no matter what. Right now, she listened to the boys, but Izzy could tell she was really paying more attention to her lunch, which resembled a small vegetable garden that had been planted in a bento box.
No one came to talk to Izzy. But that was a good thing: She was so bummed out—and terrified—about Forensics that she wouldn’t have been able to talk anyway! She looked over at Marie and the new girl talking happily to one another. Izzy was filled with a sense of longing. In the old days, Marie would have known just what to say to calm Izzy and figure out what to do about the dreaded Forensics.
But not now.
Granddad had told Izzy about a phenomenon in physics called a black hole. He explained that if you shrink a large mass—like my friendship with Marie, thought Izzy—enough, it becomes a black hole that has so much mass that not even light can escape its warp. The center of a black hole was called a singularity. Izzy thought that “singularity” was the loneliest word she’d ever heard. And right now, even though she was sitting at a lunch table with her friends and was surrounded by noisy kids, somehow Izzy felt exactly like a singularity.
The weather was still unseasonably cold the next day. But as Izzy, Allie, and Charlie walked into school, it felt colder inside the building than out! A boy behind them said in a deep announcer’s voice, “Welcome to Day Two of the Atom Middle School freeze-out crisis.” It was Trevor.
Without thinking, Izzy came back with “Everyone’s wondering: How low can it go, temperature-wise?” At the same instant, she and Trevor both said, “Absolute zero!”
“Good one!” Allie howled. “You two should put on a comedy show or something! Go on the road! Together!”
Eeek, shrieked Izzy inside her head. She went hot with embarrassment.
But Trevor just grinned and waved and walked away saying, “See you later.”
With her elbow, Allie nudged Izzy so hard that Izzy was thrown off balance. “That boy is cute,” she said. “And he’s interested in y-o-u, Isabelle Newton, my friend.”
Izzy blushed. “No, no—he’s nice to everyone,” she said.
“Mm-hmm, sure,” said Allie, “but mostly he’s nice to you.”
“Too far, too fast, Al,” said Charlie. “You’re making Izzy uncomfortable, can’t you see?”
“Sorrr-eee,” said Allie, miffed.
“Come on, Miss Matchmaker,” Izzy teased. She linked her arm through Allie’s. “We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late.”
“This whole middle-school thing about switching classes and getting to class on time is hard,” said Charlie. She and Izzy and Allie were so squeezed together in the center of the crowd of students clogging the hallway that they could hardly breathe. “I feel like we’re some sort of six-legged, six-armed, three-headed monster creature.”
Allie nodded. “Three and a half minutes is not enough time to get from one classroom to another,” she said.
“Not for this volume of bodies in motion,” added Izzy.
“Especially on the stairs,” added Charlie. One kid was trying to slide down the banister so as to avoid the herd on the stairs. The stairs were another middle-school thing. Unlike their all-on-one-floor elementary school, Atom Middle School had three levels: basement, first floor, and second floor. Today the traffic jam on both staircases was significantly worse than the day before because kids had wised up about how cold it was in the building. They were wearing puffy winter coats, and so they took up even more space. Students weren’t supposed to wear coats and jackets in class, but it was so cold in the school that teachers had made an exception.
“After someone solves the mystery of why the school is cold, someone should solve the problem of the stairs,” said Charlie.
“I wish somebody would,” agreed Allie, “and soon, before we’re all squashed flat.”
“Well,” Izzy admitted, “today’s the first day of Forensics, so I’d love to be squashed flat; that sounds like more fun than making speeches.”
“Oh, Izzy!” Allie exclaimed. “I’m sorry. I forgot. You must be nervous.”
“You’ll do just fine,” Charlie reassured her. “I’m sure.”
“Me too,” said Izzy with a twisted grin. “Not.”
The girls parted, and then Charlie called out to Izzy, “Want a snack to calm your nerves?”
“No, thanks!” Izzy called back. She was so jittery that the last thing she could do was scarf down some kale chips; she’d choke! Izzy slunk into the Forensics classroom and took a seat in the back. I told Granddad I was worried I might be invisible, she thought. Now I wish I were.
It turned out that Forensics was not as bad as Izzy had expected it to be. It was worse. First, she had to stand up and say her name and tell what elementary school she was from, which made her totally nervous. She knew she sounded very Dizzy Izzy-ish as she stumbled along, mumbling, “I’m Izzy, I mean Isabelle Longview, I mean Newton from Elementary School, I mean Longview.”
Everyone snickered.
Ms. Martinez, the teacher, just said, “Okay! Next?” But Izzy saw her make a note in her attendance book.
Probably: “Worst Speaker Ever,” Izzy thought.
“The first rule of Forensics is: Have something you want to say,” said Ms. Martinez. “You can’t speak with conviction unless you care about your topic. So today, I want you to make a list of topics you’ll research and then prepare and deliver a speech about.” Izzy felt as though she had swallowed a stone. Oh, help! she thought miserably. She opened her notebook, took out a piece of paper, and stared at the blank page. All around her other students were scribbling madly, churning out ideas.
Ms. Martinez walked up and down the aisles looking at the students’ papers and chatting briefly with them about what they had written. When she came to Izzy and saw that Izzy had written nothing, Ms. Martinez tapped Izzy’s paper. “Come on, Izzy,” she said. “Your paper is empty, but I’m sure that your brain isn’t. I’m not asking for a long list. Just one idea that you feel strongly about and have something to say about will do.”