Breakthrough (4 page)

She smiled awkwardly. I smiled awkwardly.

“Truth or dare?” I asked Jake, attempting to move the attention on to someone else, anyone else, as quickly as humanly possible.

Oh God. What's going on with me?

Inside, I knew something was wrong. By this age, I had seen enough television shows to know that this experience—my first kiss—should have felt different. I should have been feeling nervous, of course, but mixed with that anxiety should have been a measure of excitement and attraction. However, it didn't feel like I was kissing my girlfriend. Instead, it felt like I was kissing my best friend. My best friend who I wasn't attracted to.

All the thoughts whirling through my head just made me irritable every time I saw Logan.

What's wrong with me?

Why don't I feel that way about her?

Not knowing where else to turn, I began to take it out on Logan. I began hanging out with her less and ignoring her. Eventually my confusion turned into anger. I stopped ignoring her and started acting like I was too good for her. I was a real jerk. Finally, about midway through sixth grade, I sent her a note telling her we were over. Breaking up via note is an amateur move even by an eleven-year-old's standards. It's no surprise that she stopped talking to me.

The self-inflicted loss of Logan didn't completely spell the end of my social life. I still hung out with Jake and Sam, but they had begun to notice some changes in me too. They could tell something was wrong. Sometimes my answers were curt or I seemed distracted. I could feel myself slowly beginning to pull away from them too.

Although my ability to maintain my friendships was breaking down, my competitive spirit began to rev up. The big science fair was coming. I still needed to find an idea for a project, and fast. It wasn't only about bragging rights; it was also a huge part of my final grade.

Inspiration struck while kayaking the Cheat River with Uncle Ted. We came upon a low head dam. However, this time, instead of tossing in sticks to symbolize my various family members, I wanted to understand why it did what it did. I asked Uncle Ted.

“It's known as a submerged hydraulic jump,” he said. “It's really fascinating.”

As we continued drifting down the Cheat, he began to explain
how the dangerous backwash below the dam could be deadly. On the surface, the water looked peaceful, but underneath it was violent and powerful. Anything caught by the backwash could be trapped and recirculated around and around, making escape or rescue difficult or even impossible.

I wanted to learn more. As soon as I got home, I hit the family computer and began to research on the internet. The more I learned, the more I became mesmerized by the laundry machine–like effect of the water, and its ability to hold people down.

I was able to discover that there were thousands of these hidden hazard spots scattered all over the country. It seemed like a year didn't go by without someone drowning from the force of these strange and powerful currents lurking just beneath the surface. I wanted to know everything, especially about the science behind how these drowning-machine dams worked and exactly what was happening under the water.

I began to think, what if I could find a way to change the flow of the water so that it wouldn't pull swimmers down? Then another thought occurred to me—this would be my project. It allowed me to take my fascination with low head dams and turn it into a science fair entry that could help save lives. I took the model river that my dad had helped me make in my basement and began tinkering around and adjusting the water flow to try to replicate what was taking place at the dam. Using all the different case studies, I was able to create
an accurate scale model of the river, the low head dam, and a human. I attached a sump pump to the model that allowed me to adjust the flow of my basement river to replicate the flow of the real river. Once I had my model river and model human down to the exact scale to replicate the effect of the drowning machine, I switched out the wooden bottom with a piece of clear Plexiglas that allowed me to monitor the conditions from all vantage points.

Now that I had succeeded in replicating the drowning machine, I needed to find a way to stop the dangerous washing machine–like effect. I spent huge chunks of time in my dark basement experimenting with how different obstructions would alter the flow of the water.

I tested various custom-made pieces of plastic, wood, and concrete. I tried forty different fixtures before finally finding one that could alter the intense cyclical effect of the water. The one I found that worked was a piece of curved wood with a five-to-one slope. By positioning the apex or top of the curve at the center of the dam, the tailwater gradually increases, disrupting the flow of water enough to kick out whoever is trapped. Mission accomplished: the retrofit eliminated the submerged hydraulic jump.

Through replicating a low head dam on a miniature scale, and a process of trial and error, I had solved a problem that was killing people. My experiment successfully proved there was a way to make these low head dams much safer. For the first time in my life, I realized I had the power to make real change in the world.

I couldn't wait to share my idea with my classmates! However, I knew it was a risky move. Revealing details about science projects was just not something a lot of people did at this school. Remember when I referred to the science fair as the Hunger Games? Well, that was only a slight exaggeration. The competition really was ruthless, and there were rumors that students weren't above sabotage. I believed them.

The one person I would have felt comfortable telling was Logan, but I had completely screwed that up. She still wasn't speaking to me. But I couldn't help myself. I just had to tell someone. I was talking to Jake before class when I decided I couldn't contain my excitement for another second.

Jake had just the reaction I'd been hoping for. The more he heard, the more impressed he sounded.

“Seriously, you have a great chance of winning,” he said.

“Really? You think?”

The idea of actually winning the science fair wasn't something that had entered my mind. My only real expectation was to get a good grade.

“No, really, Jack, your idea is awesome,” he added. I could tell he meant it.

As Jake asked more and more questions about my project, I was so excited to share my ideas with him that I began to speak louder. A boy named Damien overheard me.

I've come to believe that there is at least one kid like Damien in every school. Damien was simply a jerk. A huge jerk. He always had a problem with me. I could tell he was supercompetitive like everyone else, but for whatever reason, he hated me in particular. That was the only way I could think to explain his behavior. Like randomly walking over to me to tell me how much I sucked. Damien was overly fond of the word
suck
.

“You're doing your project on low head dams?” he asked with a smirk. We both knew it wasn't really a question. It was a taunt.

I just didn't want to deal with him. Not now. Not ever.

“Maybe, why?” I answered, turning away.

“Well, it sounds like your project really sucks,” he said.

There it was. His favorite word—
sucks
.

“I'm going to win,” he added, that smirk back on his face. “But I'm just kidding, I'm sure you'll do great.”

I wasn't very good at these kinds of conversations where what is being said is very different from what is meant.

“Well . . .” I sputtered.

I was racing to think of a comeback, but my mind blanked.

Luckily, that was the moment when our teacher showed up and unlocked the classroom door, saving me from looking like an idiot. I took my seat and began fuming. Damien had always annoyed me, but this time he really struck a nerve.

This kid doesn't even know me! Why does he think he's all that?

I wanted to beat him. Badly.

If I really was going to have a chance to crush Damien, I knew I needed to get to work, and fast. There were only seven weeks until the fair. I knew my science was solid, but I wasn't so sure about my speaking and delivery, which were almost as important as the project in these competitions.

I rehearsed over and over in front of my parents. My first clue that something was wrong came from the look of boredom that spread across their faces as I was giving my presentation. After a few rehearsals, my parents decided they were done hearing me practice my talks. They bought me a video camera and told me to watch myself. Talk about a rude awakening! All along, I had thought I was doing okay while delivering speeches, but when I watched myself on the video, I realized I wasn't just bad—I was horrible.

I gulped. I stuttered. I lost where I was on my board and droned on and on. I had to start over every time I made a mistake.

Needing help, I sunk to a level no little sibling should ever sink to—I asked my older brother for advice. After watching me go through the motions of my presentation, he responded in the only way he knew how.

“You stink,” he told me, and shut the door in my face.

He came back a little later and shoved a piece of paper at me. “Here's a card with tips I've learned that I wrote down for you,” he said. “Now quit bothering me until you learn them.”

I devoted hours to studying those cards, which had useful tips like:

“Talk like you are telling a friend about a new game where you know all the info, but it's still a conversation.”

“Say what you think, don't give a speech.”

“Never go back! Keep moving and incorporate missed parts later.”

“Keep it neat.”

“Lose all the boring stuff.”

I studied YouTube videos of science fair presentations, and practiced more and worked more.

Slowly, I began to see results. My delivery got smoother. The more I practiced, the more confident I became. The more confident I became, the less I gulped or stuttered. As the date of the fair approached, I finally felt ready.

On the day of the competition, I arrived at the University of Maryland hoping to get a great grade, best Damien, and maybe even place somewhere in one of the eight different categories. The categories ranged from chemistry to engineering to physics. After all the special category winners are announced, the judges award the second and first runners-up before crowning the fair's ultimate champion.

After pushing through the wide double doors, I felt like I was walking right into one of the YouTube clips I had studied. There were
booths set up all over a large convention floor and clusters of kids swaying nervously back and forth in front of their projects. I didn't do a lot of talking. I had my game face on, which looks a lot like my regular face except I'm not smiling.

My sixth-grade science fair presentation, “Can We Stop the Drowning Machine?”

I found my spot and finished setting up my display, a large piece of cardboard with “Can We Stop the Drowning Machine?” written on top, along with information on how I reached my conclusions. Then it was time to scope out my competition. I didn't think I had much of a shot at winning since it was my first real science competition and there were so many really great projects, especially from the seventh and eighth graders. In the behavioral science category, one was called “Which Common Beverage Is Most Damaging to Teeth?” In the same category, there was another neat-looking project that had mice running through a maze, called “The Effect of Classical Music on Mice Going Through a Maze.” One of my favorites was called
“Maglev Train Speed Efficiency.” It featured a Lego train that used magnets to levitate.

Then—I found Damien. He was standing in front of his display, looking smug.

“Hey, loser,” he said. “Want to see a demonstration?”

“No thanks,” I said, acting disinterested.

My brother, Luke, who was an eighth grader, also entered the contest with his “Is There Fungus Among Us?” experiment. Luke's project demonstrated how fungus that attaches itself to a root can actually help the plant grow.

My experience at the fair took a dramatic turn for the worse after Damien won first place in one of the categories.

Great, I'll be hearing about that for the rest of the year.

At the end of the ceremony, it was time to call out the overall winners. The first name they called was Luke's! He had won third place! I felt so proud of him as I watched him climb the stairs. Then came the announcement for second place, which went to a project called “What Is the Most Efficient Blade Angle for a Windmill?” I loved that project and thought it would win first.

What's going to top that?

You could have heard a pin drop in the auditorium the moment before the judges announced the overall winner.

“And first place goes to Jack Andraka, with his ‘Can We Stop the Drowning Machine? Retrofitting Low Head Dams for Safety.'”

My jaw dropped to the ground. From my spot on the stage, I looked out into the audience. I saw my brother smiling. Damien was scampering for the exit.