"Settle down, kids. I've got an announcement to make. It's that time of year again: science fair!"

The class groaned.

"The worst time of year," Iris mumbled.

Barry pumped his fist under his desk.

Their teacher continued: "Shh, quiet down. Okay. Now that you're seventh graders your projects will actually be judged for quality. There will be awards for first, second, and third place. You've got two weeks to perform your experiment and make a poster, and then you'll present your results to the judges at the fair."

BRRRRIIIINNNNG!

The students hastily gathered their belongings.

"Don't forget to finish your Pythagorean theorem homework – it's due on Monday. Have a good weekend!"

Iris and Barry filed out of the classroom and headed for their bus. Barry couldn't contain his excitement.

"So what d'you think you'll study? I was thinking maybe something to do with magnetic fields. Or surface waves! Did you know that if you fill a bowl with a viscous fluid and then oscillate it up and down at a certain frequency, it creates a certain resonance which causes the waves at the top to become unstable! And then you can–"

"Hey, Barry?"

"Yeah?"

"Speaka da English."

When they got home, Barry sprinted up to his room and Iris went into the kitchen. Joe was drinking a beer and chopping vegetables for dinner. His daughter dropped her backpack on the kitchen table.

"Now, Iris, is that where that belongs?"

"Daddy, I need help coming up with a science fair project."

Joe put down the knife and looked up at her, visibly flustered. "Um… Well, baby, I don't really know much about science, but, uh, why don't you try forensics? We can find a dead pigeon or something and take it to the CSI lab. Find out how it died."

Iris grimaced. "Thanks. But I think I'll just ask Barry for help."

"Oh God." Joe swigged his beer. "Please keep him away from open flames, uranium, rattlesnakes, and whatever else he's into."

Iris headed upstairs. Barry's bedroom door was open, so she let herself in. He was lying on the floor, perusing some science textbooks.

"You pick a topic yet?" She asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Electrical conductivity. Ions, copper wires, all that good stuff."

Iris nodded. She knew why he made that choice, but she wouldn't say it aloud for fear of dredging up bad memories. Ever since his mother's murder a year ago Barry had been fixated on the "lightning man" who killed her. He was always interested in science, but lately he'd grown obsessed with electricity. It bothered Joe – he probably thought Barry was losing his mind – but Iris understood.

"Well, if you don't mind, I was wondering if maybe you could help me out with my project?"

Barry immediately sat up. "Sure! What did you have in mind?"

"I dunno. Maybe, like, one of those baking-soda-vinegar-volcano thingies."

"Uh, no. You're not doing that. How about something biological? I think you'd like messing with plants and pigments. You know, photosynthesis, chloroplasts, chlorophyll…"

Iris blankly stared. "Uh, yeah, sure. I guess so."

"Yes! Great!" Barry rubbed his hands together. "Okay, here's what you could try…"

Two days later, Barry and Iris were in the backyard with the materials for their respective projects.

"Wait. Remind me what I'm supposed to be doing again, Barry?"

"You're trying to stop those weeds from producing chlorophyll by blocking the sunlight."

"What do I use to do that?"

"I dunno, grab something from the house."

Iris pondered for a moment and then ran into the house, returning with one of her father's vinyls. She propped it up on a small stake, tied it in place, and stepped back. "Perfect! I guess I just have to wait. So, can I help you with your experiment?"

Barry had spent hours setting up a complex series of copper-wire circuits, batteries, cups of water, and lightbulbs.

"No thanks, I've got it," he replied, grinning proudly. Iris had distracted him; he picked up the metal fork he'd been using to shape the circuit and tapped a charged wire.

ZZZZZZZZT!

Barry fell to the ground, twitching.

"Barry! Are you okay?!"

He coughed and sat up. "I'm good, I'm good! It's all for the advancement of science, right?"

"Well, don't kill yourself for science!"

"Relax, Iris, I'm not gonna go and get struck by lightning or anything. That was probably only, like, seven or eight milliamps at the most."

"You're taking this project way too seriously. Come on, let's take a break."

A few more days passed while Iris's experiment progressed. Once the weeds had become visibly yellowed, the two of them stepped outside to collect samples.

"So what's your hypothesis?" Barry asked.

"…What do you mean? I need a hypothesis?"

"Iris, you have to use the scientific method!"

"Hey, you told me that real scientists don't actually follow that."

"Well, I mean, not always. It depends on the field of study and the manner of the experiment. But whatever, that doesn't matter; I was talking about real scientists. You are gonna get a bad grade for skipping the hypothesis."

"Okay, then what's a good hypothesis?"

"It's too late, you already started the experiment!"

"I'll just make something up!"

"How is that ethical?!"

"Barry, this is a 7th grade science fair project!"

"Well, Iris, maybe you should be a science fiction writer or something."

Iris threw a handful of weeds at Barry. They laughed and chased each other around the yard.

Joe stepped outside; his jaw dropped. "Did you–? Is that my Duke Ellington LP?! You used that to cover those weeds all week?! Vinyl records get destroyed by sunlight, Iris!"

Her eyes widened. "Ohh, crap."

"Dangit, Iris!" Her father jogged across the yard and cradled his record like a baby. "This was Live at the Blue Note! It was worth a fortune! That's it, I'm confiscating your turtle."

"McSnurtle?!"

"You're damn right!" Joe stormed back inside, muttering: "Weeds! All for some lousy weeds! ...Duke..."

Iris's relationship with her father was strained until the day of judgment. At the science fair, Iris wowed the judges with her beautiful poster and creative demonstration of the sun's effect on botanical pigment molecules.

Barry's poster, on the other hand, was an eyesore: He had written so much scientific jargon that the text had to be miniscule to fit onto the posterboard. The sheer number of variables that he attempted to work with made the judges' heads spin, and they struggled to analyze his enormous data set.

That night, Iris stroked and admired her shiny, first-place ribbon and Barry moped over his "honorable mention" certificate.