Cheer-Streaked: A Westbridge Over-Drama

4: Fine Cauldron Of Fish

"That totally sucks."

"Cee Cee, you always state the obvious," Jill snapped. "What we need is a plan, a way out."

"Oh, girls," I said with a sigh, "I've already given up on this. Don't you recognise the 'I'm just venting' tone in my voice?"

"Sorry," Cee Cee said. "Then you're really going through with it?"

"Obviously." I bent forward to apply another coat of Fairy Dust to my toenails (the watery crap was lighter than it looked in the bottle), but I almost lost the phone. "Oh, shoot!"

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, readjusting. "Anyway, it's crazy; she keeps calling me like we're bee-eff-eff or something, and all because she's freaking over this project. We have four weeks left! I mean, if she's that worried about getting everything done in time, she should just finish it herself and stop stressing me over it, right?"

"That little freak should be put on a leash," Jill said, snickering.

"We discussed the snickering," I said, but then I heard a beep. "God, there she is again... hang on, let me take this." Click. "Hello?"

"Hey, Libby!" Yep, it was the persistent freak. "I know I'm bothering you again, but what do you think about making our own aromatics? You know, perfume. Is it too fourth-grade, or can we make it look good with enough research?"

"You're interrupting a critical step in the beautification process," I snapped.

"Facial?"

I was actually too annoyed to say anything but the truth. "Toes."

"Sorry, I'll let you move on to drying and promise I won't call you for at least another hour, but while I've got you...?"

"Sure, perfume, great."

"You sure? I mean, we could always go with the standard volcano, or a tornado in a bottle. Or if you're feeling braver, this one time I saw Mr. Wizard do this thing with potatoes and semiconductors..."

"Mr. Who?"

"Uh... nevermind. I guess we can sleep on it. Well, talk to you later!"

"Please don't." Click. "Guys, you still there?"

"Yeah," Jill said. "That took long enough."

"What a Geekzilla!" I cried, mostly to the ceiling. "How am I going to get through this?!"

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Yes, in less than one week Safreakna had managed to become The Lab Partner From Hell. She was constantly bouncing project ideas off me, and even though I'm sure she ran and complained to Kinkle and Dorkhead about how difficult I was being, she was all sunshine and rainbows around me. If I weren't made of sturdier stock, the rainbows would have rubbed off... or killed me.

To spare you a few more days of wishy-washiness, we finally went with the perfume; it was easy, and at least it wasn't a stupid volcano. But even then, she wasn't satisfied; she wanted to discuss materials, and presentation, and wardrobe (I definitely had something to say there), and even if we should try to use flavourless toothpaste on the day of the fair so people wouldn't be smelling minty freshness when they were trying to smell our project. Geez, listen to that: "smell our project". Must this kind of stuff happen to me?

It was a Friday when she finally proposed the ridiculous.

"Not now, not ever!"

"But we need to!" The librarian shushed her, and she lowered her voice further. "We've only got three weeks left, and all we have is a dozen Ziplocks of smelly stuff and this notebook full of vague ideas!" She brandished it at me.