About the Book
I’m Edie and I love science. So when I started at a new school, I decided it could be one giant experiment.
Can I give you some advice? Avoid sliming your entire classroom. You could end up in trouble with your teacher, your new classmates and the principal.
Between the great slime fiasco, the apology cookie surprise and the wrinkle cream mix-up, I’ve discovered making friends isn’t an exact science!
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Edie’s Experiments 2: How to be the Best
Imprint
Read more at Penguin Books Australia
To Eva, Flynn and James
If there’s one piece of advice I can give you for your first day at a new school, it’s this: avoid sliming your entire classroom. Even if it’s only an accident, you’ll probably end up in trouble with your new teacher . . . or your classmates . . . or your principal. Or with all three, like I did.
The day started out innocently enough. I’d decided to experiment with toast toppings, and was creating an interesting swirling pattern on my multigrain when Dad bounded down the stairs with Max on his back.
‘Would you like a sample?’ I offered them my plate.
Dad raised his eyebrows. ‘Vegemite and honey? No thanks, Edie.’
‘No, Dee-Dee,’ Max said, with a toothy grin.
‘Suit yourself,’ I said, shrugging. Thirty-six-year-olds and two-year-olds tended to be a bit fussy when it came to experimenting with food. One time last year I made breakfast pizzas, and they refused to try even a small slice. Just because the fruit, cereal and milk went a little gluggy in the oven didn’t mean the pizzas wouldn’t taste good. (Although, on that occasion, they had tasted pretty terrible.)
I bit into my deliciously tangy toast, and beamed at them. ‘Tastes great!’
‘If you say so,’ Dad said, as he fixed himself and Max some boring, non-experimental wheat flakes.
‘Have you seen my keys?’ Mum bustled in, smelling of flowery perfume. ‘I can’t find them anywhere.’ I was used to seeing Mum’s frizzy hair poking out all over the place (a lot like mine), but today it was pinned back neatly in a high bun. I wondered how long it had taken her to get it so smooth. When I used to do ballet, Mum had to plaster my hair with five cans of hairspray just to get it to stay (reasonably) in place.
‘Are they on the key hook?’ Dad said, grinning. He pointed to where the keys were hanging on the pegboard by the fridge.
Mum exhaled. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ She dumped them in her handbag, then started checking off her fingers.
‘So . . . Max naps around 2 pm. If you go out this morning, the nappy bag needs a new packet of wipes. Oh, and could you please pick up some milk?’
‘Sure,’ Dad said. ‘I have looked after Max before, you know.’ He let out an exaggerated sigh, and rolled his eyes.
‘Yah, ya know?’ said Max, copying Dad’s exaggerated sigh.
I giggled. With the same shaggy blond hair, cheeky grin and bright eyes, Max and Dad could’ve been twins, if they weren’t thirty-four years apart in age.
Mum laughed. ‘Okay, point taken.’
‘So . . .’ Dad clipped on Max’s bib. ‘Are you ready for your first day, Edie?’
‘Hmm.’ I licked remnants of vegemite and honey off my fingers. ‘I think so.’ There had been a pair of overactive butterflies hovering around my stomach since the night before, but other than that I was feeling okay. ‘It’ll be nice to have some new lab partners . . . But I’ll definitely miss Winnie.’ Winnie was my best friend at my old school, and she loved science too. We used to live next door to each other, but now we lived on opposite sides of the city.
‘Of course.’ Dad squeezed my shoulder. ‘But I’m sure you’ll be making bubble towers with some new buddies in no time.’ He winked.
Mum groaned. ‘No more bubble towers this decade, please!’
Dad and I shared a smile. He once helped Winnie and me with a Never-Ending Bubble Experiment, which didn’t exactly go to plan. Long story short, we spent an entire day cleaning foamy bubbles off every single surface of our house.
Mum kissed me on the forehead. ‘Just be yourself, sweetie, that’s all that matters.’
‘That’s right,’ agreed Dad. ‘Everything else will fall into place.’
‘Yeah, I hope so.’
Max, having been left out of the conversation for a good twenty seconds, took that opportunity to upend his cereal bowl all over the table.
‘Uh-oh!’ He covered his mouth with his hands. (Even though I’m 99 per cent sure it was on purpose.)
‘Oh no, Max!’ Dad hopped up to grab a dishcloth, and I ducked upstairs to get ready.
As I packed my shiny new stationery and mountain of books into my backpack, my eyes fell upon my science kit in the corner of the room. A light bulb turned on in my head.
Mum and Dad were right – I just needed to be myself. And what better way to introduce myself to my new classmates than by showing them how much I love science?
I grabbed my science kit and slipped it on top of my books, then zipped up my overfilled bag. I couldn’t wait to meet my new class. It was going to be a great day.
As I sat in Room 13B, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I felt confident knowing my science kit was safely tucked under my desk.
‘Today we welcome a new student to Class 5Z.’ My teacher, Mr Zhu, smiled. ‘Edie Butler has just moved here from across the city.’ The kids turned to look at me. ‘Today is her very first day here at Cedar Road Primary.’ Mr Zhu’s eyes were warm and he had a deep voice. It was the voice I’d always imagined Max’s favourite teddy bear, Mr Bots, would have. His hair was grey, like Mr Bots’ fur, and he even wore braces to hold up his trousers. (Although Mr Zhu’s were black, while Mr Bots preferred red.) I liked him straightaway, even though he’d made a mistake with my name.
I raised my hand. ‘It’s Baxter, actually.’
He squinted through his glasses at the piece of paper in his hand. ‘Sorry – Edie Baxter, yes, that’s what I meant.’ He glanced up. ‘Would you like to come up the front, Edie, and tell us about yourself?’
‘Sure!’ I reached under my desk, grabbed my science kit and bounded up the front.
‘I’m Edie,’ I said, beaming at my new classmates. ‘I’m ten-and-a-quarter years old, and we’ve just moved house so we can be close to my mum’s new work.’ Mum used to work part-time and Dad worked full-time, but this year they decided to do a swap.
‘I see.’ Mr Zhu nodded. ‘And what do you think of your new neighbourhood, Edie?’
‘Oh, it’s ama
zing!’
For one thing, the playground at the bottom of the street was top quality. I’d conducted playground equipment testing the day we moved in, and was impressed with both the swing trajectory and seesaw strength.
The neighbours were really great too. Joe, the old man from next door, had seemed pretty helpful when he dropped by the day we moved in. He let us know that our moving truck was encroaching on his driveway by ten centimetres. I thought it was very kind and thoughtful of him, even though Dad had rolled his eyes after he left.
The kids were looking at my science kit. Some of them were starting to whisper and point. I cut to the chase.
‘I love doing experiments – Mum and I do them at home all the time.’ Well, maybe not so much since we’d moved. But we used to.
I opened my science kit. ‘I got this for my birthday last year.’ I pulled out my lab coat and safety goggles, and my all-time favourite book, Fun Experiments at Home.
‘Very interesting, Edie,’ said Mr Zhu. ‘Thank you for sharing that.’
Before I could return to my seat, a girl in the middle row with the curliest blonde hair I’d ever seen raised her hand.
‘What’s your favourite experiment?’ she asked. Her hair bounced as she spoke. It looked like a bunch of springs sticking out from her head. With hair like that she’d have to be a potential science buddy, especially for physics experiments. I was so mesmerised I almost forgot to answer her question.
‘I like all kinds of experiments . . . Pasta Rocket, Rainbow in a Glass, Baking Soda Volcano –’
‘Baking Soda Volcano!’ Her eyes lit up. ‘I’ve done that one before! In fact . . .’ She rummaged around in her pencil case and pulled out a small golden trophy with Science Fair Winner – Emily James engraved on the front. ‘That’s how I won this!’ She puffed out her chest as she set it down on her desk.
Mr Zhu’s eyes crinkled. ‘That’s right, Emily won our Science Fair at the start of the year.’
‘I even beat the Year Sixes,’ she said as she flicked her coils of blonde hair over her shoulder.
I gasped. ‘Wow, that’s amazing!’ The trophy looked awesome. I was immediately super jealous.
‘Tell us more about yourself, Edie,’ Mr Zhu said. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
I tore my eyes away from Emily James’s shiny trophy. ‘One brother. He’s really into experiments too. Like the Airborne Toddler Experiment we conducted last week.’ Max had been very enthusiastic about that one. ‘Well, tried to conduct,’ I clarified. ‘Mum cut it short before we could fully test the aerodynamics of his pyjamas.’
The class giggled.
Mr Zhu’s eyes bulged. ‘Dear me.’ He scratched his head. ‘Airborne Toddler? That doesn’t sound very safe.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I assured him. ‘My experiments are usually safe.’ Airborne Toddler had been a one-off. So was the Hair-Fire incident last year. Most of the time, my experiments were completely, one hundred per cent safe. (At least three-quarters of the time, anyway.)
I answered a few more of Mr Zhu’s questions (favourite sport: netball, favourite colour: blue), then sauntered back to my seat, swinging my science kit. As I sat down, my new desk buddy, a girl with two neat brown plaits (which would never require any of Mum’s hairspray) turned to me. ‘Cool science kit, Edie. I’m Annie B.’
Before I could ask what the ‘B’ was for, she added. ‘There were two Annies in my Year One class.’
‘Oh, right. Cool.’ I’d always been the only Edie in my class, so I’d never had the pleasure of an extra initial.
I thrust out my hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Annie B.’
She smiled and shook my hand. ‘Do you want to play handball at morning tea?’
My heart skipped a beat. ‘Sure!’
As Mr Zhu handed out a vocab list, the overactive butterflies in my stomach started to relax.
What had I been so worried about? My new class was awesome. I’d make friends in no time.
Things were going to be just fine.
‘I also won the geography competition last year, and the Spelling Bee.’ Emily James twisted a coil of hair around her finger as she waited beside me in the handball queue at recess that day. ‘I’m pretty good at competitions, I guess.’
Samirah, a small girl with straight black hair, rolled her eyes. Annie B said ‘hmm’ with a stiff smile, but I was thoroughly impressed.
‘Really? That’s amazing!’ The handball flew past, and the girl who missed it hung her head and plodded to the back of the queue. We all shuffled up the line.
‘I hope there’s another Science Fair soon,’ I said. My old school never had a Science Fair. I couldn’t wait to be part of one.
‘I’m sure there will be,’ Emily James said vaguely, just as the boy on the court double-bounced the ball. He sighed, then ran to the back of the queue. ‘Oh, it’s my turn!’ Emily James skipped to the centre of the court. ‘I’m going to beat you!’ she taunted the other player. The boy in the King square glared back.
‘Emily James is a bit competitive,’ Annie B whispered to me.
I grinned. ‘I can tell!’
‘Maybe you’ll win the next Science Fair, though,’ Samirah said. ‘It sounds like you know lots about science.’ She blinked up at me.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said. ‘I do love experiments.’
As Emily James took control of the handball court (she was pretty good, I had to admit), an idea started to build up in my brain. It began as a small snowball at the top of a cliff, then started rolling downhill, gathering momentum and getting bigger and bigger as it went.
It was a good one. Possibly my best idea yet.
My classmates seemed pretty interested in my science kit and my experiments. They clearly loved science as much as I did.
Maybe I could demonstrate a special science experiment for them, to show them how excited I was to be joining their class . . .
Better yet . . . why not surprise them with an experiment?
At lunchtime, I waited patiently until my classmates were engrossed in handball again (and the teacher on playground duty was occupied with tying Prep kids’ shoelaces), then I snuck back inside.
After two wrong turns and almost bumping into a librarian carrying a stack of books, I managed to make it back to Room 13B. (Note to self: when conducting first-day-of-school experiments in the future, make sure to bring a map.)
Once I’d successfully found my classroom, I grabbed the materials from my science kit and got straight to work.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a bowl or container in my science kit to mix up the slime, but a keen scientist will always come up with a solution. I managed to dig up a bowl in the craft cupboard (any kid can sniff out a craft cupboard, after all), then I mixed up the slime in a flash.
‘Perfect!’ I skipped around the classroom, popping a handful of slime on each desk. It was one of my best batches yet – perfectly squelchy, sufficiently goopy and an ideal shade of green.
As I rinsed out the bowl and returned it to the craft cupboard, my heart felt as light and fluffy as fairy floss. Surprise Slime was the perfect present for my new classmates. They were going to love it.
Once the lunch bell rang, I sprinted over to our classroom with Annie B.
‘I wonder which book Mr Zhu will read today,’ Annie B whispered to her partner in line.
I smiled to myself. I was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any reading going on once everyone saw my special surprise. More like a whole lot of whooping with joy, and squeezing and poking balls of slime. It was going to be awesome.
As we headed into the classroom, Mr Zhu stopped suddenly, his forehead creasing.
The queue jolted to a stop. A chorus of voices started up.
‘What is it, Mr Zhu?’
‘What’s happening?’
‘Quit standing on my heels!’
‘It’s nothing, kids.’ Mr Zhu mopped his brow with a chequered handkerchief. ‘Let me see . . . Perhaps just stay out here in the corridor f
or a second?’ He tried to usher us to stand by the bag racks, but elbows jostled and heads bobbed up and down to see through the windows.
‘Ew!’
‘Can you see that?’
‘Yuck, that’s disgusting!’
Something wasn’t right. By now, my classmates should’ve been running to their desks and squealing with glee as they played with their balls of slime.
I snuck to the front of the queue. ‘Oh no.’
My stomach dropped down to my toes.
There was green everywhere.
Puddles of green liquid had seeped all over the kids’ desks, and strings of green dripped onto the floor. There was even green gunk on the books and pencil cases everyone had stacked beside their desks.
It was like the time Max vomited after eating broccoli.
Green. All. Over. The. Place.
‘What is it?’ The girl standing next to me looked like she’d seen a ghost. A boy with spiky black hair shrieked.
‘I – I’m not sure.’ Mr Zhu patted his brow once more.
But I knew what it was: melted slime. I’d once accidentally left slime on the back deck at our old house, and it had ended up as a sticky, drippy mess by the afternoon.
I ran to my desk to inspect the pool of slime. How could it possibly have melted when it was inside the classroom? There was no sun inside . . . it wasn’t like the time on the deck at all.
Unless . . . I quickly scanned the room. Of course! The air conditioner – it had been off all lunchtime.
How to Make Friends Page 1
