44
By the time the bell rang in Mr. Fizer’s, Matt wasn’t there. So far both of guys I wanted to avoid today were helping me do it. I let myself relax.
But that lasted about five minutes.
“Miss Locke, may I speak to you?”
Mr. Fizer was holding the notebook I’d just turned in. I did not have a good feeling.
I went up to the front.
“Out in the hall,” Mr. Fizer said.
Even worse.
I had no idea what I’d done wrong. As far as I knew I was meeting all the criteria—doing my research, keeping accurate records, turning in my notebook every Monday.
“I’m concerned, Miss Locke. Your project seems to have stalled.”
“Sir?”
“While it’s fascinating to learn that you have perfected a recipe for lentil and barley loaf, I fail to see the science in this anymore.”
I swallowed hard. I seemed to be ou
