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do.”
    â€œWebsite people?” Claire barks. “Can you use Mary?”
    Pimply Forehead Girl raises her hand.
    Claire frowns. “You don’t have to put your hand up, Sarah.”
    â€œOh, yeah, right.” Sarah slams her arm down to her lap. “I really like the bling idea.”
    A lot of kids, even boys, are nodding.
    â€œMary’s right.” All excited, Austin bounces on the balls of his feet. “We should individualize our robot.”
    â€œFine. Bring in your junk,” Claire says.
    I think she’s secretly thrilled with the bling thing; she didn’t argue against it. She probably doesn’t want to show her enthusiasm because it wasn’t her idea.
    â€œBack to the website people.” Claire’s chewing on her nails. “Do you want Mary?”
    Sarah gets her hand partially up before jamming it in her pocket. “We’ll take her for Web interviews.” She says to me, “We get points for our website. Westill haven’t done our team interviews. It’s where we collect info about each member and upload it to our site. We need someone to take over that. Like develop a questionnaire, type in our answers.”
    I could handle that. In fact, I’d rock at that. I’m really talented at getting people to talk about themselves. Donner would have the best interviews in the contest.
    Wait! I’m not actually joining the Donner robotics club. I’m not really homeschooled. My name is Sherry, not Mary.
    Claire says, “Interviews are good for Mary.”
    â€œHow about plan A?” Austin asks. “We could use her there.”
    They’re fighting over me. I love it.
    Claire shuts him down with a look.
    â€œWhat’s plan A?” I say. “I’m probably down with plan A. Or B?” Very
Cat in the Hat
.
    â€œHow do you know about plan B?” Claire bites the words off through clenched teeth.
    â€œUh, I don’t? I was referring to
The Cat in the Hat
with all the little cats and their plans to get rid of the pink?” I roll my eyes. “Don’t you people read?”
    â€œYou’re on interviews.” Claire turns to the bot. “People, we’re still having probs with the limit switch for the claw. We need the claw to open and close more smoothly if we’re going to pick up and deposit rings.”
    I wander around looking for the yummy snacks. Sadly, I am finding nothing, not even one single stale pretzel. I’m obviously the victim of false advertising.
    Yikes. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before, but this computer lab stinks. Like the PE locker room at school. The boys’ PE locker room. Don’t even ask me how I know. So is the Donner custodial staff a bunch of slackers? There’s a faint sweet smell too, like they sprayed cheap air freshener instead of actually cleaning. Honey + dirty socks is not a winning combination.
    Plugging my nose, I walk over to the window and start opening it.
    A group gasp gusts through the room.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?” Claire’s right beside me, hands on the sill, pushing down. Her black fingernails glisten next to my light pink ones. “We don’t open windows here. You’re not in your own home, Homeschool Girl.”
    â€œAren’t you worried about losing brain cells from the smell?” I say.
    â€œWhat?” And she genuinely looks confused.
    The others do too.
    Obviously it’s too late for them. Their brain cells are already fried.
    â€œSarah, get her started on the interview stuff,” Claire says and shoots me one last you’re-insane look.
    â€œYeah, we don’t want any lame Saguaro Cacti kinds of questions.” A bunch of the students cackle.
    For the first time in my life, I feel the urge to stick up for my school’s robotics team. I could so kick Bryce’s piles of junk across the room. Instead, I say, “What’s the deal with