11 Open Up!

CHAPTER ELEVEN Open Up! Objectivity (noun). Discovering the best explanation by allowing evidence—not bias—to answer the question. In science, it's considered a bias when scientists come to incorrect conclusions based on false data. Sort of like your little brother telling you that your dog ate your chocolate chip cookie and you believing him— when in fact, your brother actually snarfed down your cookie. "IS THERE ANYTHING you'd like to talk about, Kate?" asked Dad. I was pacing by the front door, waiting for Tala and Birdie to arrive with the ingredients for Operation Cheer Up Kate. "You seem upset." We were planning on making chocolate-covered pretzels. Some to eat now and some to pass around as snacks for the field trip on Friday. We needed to make over one hundred so there would be enough for everyone in both fifth-grade classes to have a couple. "Um, not really." I continued to pace.

"Kate," he said in a gentle reprimand. My dad knew me so well. Plus, he's a psychologist. So then I told him how I was still upset about not getting penguins as my topic for my sea animal presentation. How having to do sea lions just didn't seem as much fun. "You're biased and not being objective," said Dad. "Why don't you focus on making new discoveries about sea lions? You're a curious person. You might surprise yourself. It's good to go outside your comfort zone." "It's not about comfort, Dad. It's about love. You and Mom are the ones who tell me you should pursue what your passions are." "Yes, but there are many paths to take and many lessons to learn. And—" "If you think it's important to go outside your comfort zone, why are you upset about being on the panel for your conference?" "Oh, you've got me there." He smiled with a guilty look. "Maybe it's something we both need to work on, huh, Katie Lane?" Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. "Oh, speaking of the conference." He glanced down at his phone. "That's one of the conference organizers." Then he walked into his office, just as Birdie and Tala burst into the house, carrying a shopping bag full of

supplies. Thirty minutes later, Tala, Birdie, and I stood in my kitchen making our chocolate-covered pretzels. "We definitely will have more than enough for our field trip to the aquarium," said Tala. She pointed at all the pretzel rods we had already dipped in chocolate. It had been Birdie's idea to decorate them with rainbow sprinkles. "To make them pizzazz-y for our trip," said Birdie. Soon enough, Liam was in the kitchen begging us to take him with us so he could see the aquarium and eat chocolate pretzel snacks. He clasped his small hands together. "I want to go. Please. Please. Please take me with you! I'll squish into your backpack." "Oh, I wish you could go," I said. "But, buddy, it's just for fifth graders." Liam sighed heavily. "No fair. How come old kids get to have all the fun?" He still looked disappointed, along with Dribble, our dog. Who was pitifully begging with his eyes all big and his tongue lolling. "Here," I said, handing Liam a pretzel. "This will cheer you up."

"Thanks," he said, biting into it. "It's yummy!" Then he took off for the family room, with a hopeful Dribble at his heels. Forty-five minutes later, we almost had all of the pretzels dipped into chocolate. Except for the ones we were dipping in white chocolate. I broke up the white chocolate into small, bite- sized pieces, and then I put them into the glass bowl. Next Birdie dumped in three tablespoons of vegetable shortening. "This stuff is so icky looking." "Yeah, but you need it," I said. "Anyway, it melts, so you can't tell it's there." After popping the bowl into the microwave, I checked the chocolate. It looked nice and creamy. I was just about to start dipping again when there was a knock on the door. Dribble started barking. "Calm down," I told him. "Maybe it's someone delivering a package," said Tala. "No chance," I said. "My parents are on a break from ordering stuff online. They want to support local businesses this month." Dribble followed me to the door, his tail wagging. It was Elijah with Memito and Jeremy too. "Hey," I said. "What's up?" "Well, the guys were just hanging out when we had this idea," said Elijah.

I let them into the house. "It's Elijah," I called out. "And Memito," said Memito. "And Jeremy," said Jeremy. The boys waltzed into the kitchen. Immediately, Memito beelined for the tray of pretzels. "Sorry, you'll have to wait," I said. "Until the field trip," chorused Birdie and Tala. "About that," said Elijah. "We have something to tell you. It's that—" "Technically, white chocolate isn't real chocolate," said Memito. "Because it doesn't have any cocoa solids. It's made from sugar, cocoa butter, milk stuff, and vanilla." "Let me see." Jeremy stuck his fingers into the chocolate mixture. "Tastes good! I don't care about technical stuff." "Hey, stop that," I said. "You just spread your germs everywhere." Jeremy could be so infuriating. "But I just washed my hands," said Jeremy. "With mud and oil and decaying stuff from the garbage." Tala scrunched up her face and plugged her nose like she could smell the stink. "He's just kidding," said Elijah. "His hands are clean. My mom makes him sanitize before stepping

into our house." Elijah's mom, the doctor, is super serious about everything being clean. I put my hands on my hips. "So, did you guys seriously come here to tell us that white chocolate isn't real chocolate?" Memito looked at Elijah, and Elijah looked at Jeremy, who shrugged. "Actually, we're here because we had this idea," Elijah said, resting his elbow on the counter. Immediately, it slid out from underneath him and he lost his balance, toppling into Birdie. She tried to catch him, but her arms were full with the bowl of melted white chocolate. Before we knew it, the two of them were in a pile on the floor, and the white chocolate was everywhere. It was dead silent for a nanosecond before we all burst into laughter. Through giggles, Elijah asked, "Hey! What did you put on there? Grease?" "Um, yeah. It's called vegetable shortening," said Memito, who was laughing so hard he could barely help Birdie up. "Can you please just tell us your plan?" I begged Elijah. Although he could barely understand me because I couldn't stop laughing at my two best friends covered in chocolate.