A/N: Chapter time again

A bit early hour-wise but it is already Saturday here, and I have to prepare to watch the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend finale (and by that I mean technically prepare, emotionally I am not ready and will never be! How do you say goodbye to such a masterpiece? Impossible!)

And I have another schedule note. As opposed to all other chapters (except those of "Celebration Aberration") chapter 23 will pick up right after the events of chapter 22, no time jump. In a way it is a two-parter, but not exactly, you'll see. Since two weeks is a big difference and I don't want people to completely forget what had happened, I will post chapter 23 a week after chapter 22. Then, I'll post chapter 24 three, and not two weeks after that, on the day it was supposed to be posted as per the usual schedule. I originally hoped I'd get a bit ahead in writing so I could post 24 two weeks after 23, but instead RL got in the way and I'm actually behind.

Thanks to all who read, reviewed, favorited, follow. I love reading your reviews. Special thanks to my great beta joyteach.

Time track: This one takes place 9 months after the previous one.

I do not own not even a tiny bit of The Big Bang Theory, not the theory, not the show. I only own my OCs, and to an extent this story's Halley and Michael.

Chapter 21: Under the spotlight

October, 2034.

[Sophie.]

It was a Friday night, when Mia and I were finishing our project for the science fair that would take place on Monday. I have always loved science fairs. Not that I need them to make cool experiments, I do that all the time, sometimes with family (except Mom, but she likes to watch), sometimes with others from the gang, sometimes alone. I also watch experiments and illustrations all the time, at the fund, at Caltech or through videos. But when there's a science fair at school I get to work with my friends, well, Mia, unless we have to be more than two, and everybody's doing science, so, I don't know, I feel more comfortable. The only thing I don't like is when people look at me when they check out my work, but in all previous fairs Mom was right by me so I just clung to her and she talked to them whenever they tried to make chit-chat.

This time we were making an exhibit using the reaction that happens when putting copper in a nitric acid solution. We would have five beakers with nitric acid and would place bundles of copper threads inside them, as if we're planting trees, which would cause a reaction that would make the solution green, and then this sort of brown-green. Then we would 'water' the trees, diluting the solution, and it would turn light blue. We'd already got all the materials for that, and all that was left was painting the background. We were drawing trees and a pond, to go with our copper trees and nitric acid pond.

I was working on the branches of the second tree when Mia, who was drawing the pond, started talking, "This is going to be the best!" she said, and I smiled in response. "Everybody will be blown away by it and ask about it, you will have a lot of explaining to do," she chuckled.

I froze. "W- Wait, what? What explaining to do? I'm not doing any explaining, that's what the written description is for, it's always been like that, whoever wants an explanation just clicks to see it," I said quickly, starting to feel my heart beat faster.

"No, that's how it is in elementary. Now that we're in middle school the description is just for the teacher. You don't remember Ms. Kendall saying we have to be able to explain what we do? They want us to do things we understand."

"Bu- But I understand this, I can explain it, but not to a bunch of people I don't know!" My heart was definitely beating faster at that point, and I had all those thoughts running through my head. What if I forget to explain some part? What if I mix up the words? What if I can't get any words out? What if I stutter? Or it all comes out in a croak, or a screech? And if I start sweating and get sweat stains on my clothes and start stinking? And everybody just stands and stares at me and more and more people come because it's so freaky and they start laughing and I'm like this circus freak with a spotlight on me so everybody can see everything that's wrong with me. And then I accidentally speak Klingon or a language that doesn't exist and people start thinking maybe I'm some sort of alien that wants to take over the world, because a little 12-year-old who looks like a 9-year-old blonde with big eyes and glasses would be the perfect look for an alien to seem innocuous and not raise much suspicion!

Mia noticed I was getting anxious, she's been my very best friend since the first day of school so she knows what's going on when I freeze and stop talking. She stood up to look at me and said, trying to calm me down, "Sophie, you can do it, you explained it so well to Ms. Kendall, you were so on it and you didn't miss a thing or make any mistakes. And I will be there with you, and your family will be there too. It will be fine."

"No, no, I can't. You should do it," I said.

"How 'bout each of us says a part? I know what we did but I'd probably get some of the details mixed up, I'm not you, I keep forgetting the names and the fine details of the reaction."

"No, you do it, I'll teach you, we have all weekend to rehearse. Please…?" I pleaded.

Mia sighed, "I don't know, Sophie, it was your idea, and maybe it'll be good fo-" she started saying, but then we heard Uncle Sheldon yelling from the Cooper-Fowler house.

"No you're not!" he yelled. There was a pause and then, "You will not scoff at me young mister!" Then "Do not walk to the door, both of you! Do not open it! Amy!" Then we heard his voice more strongly, I assume because the door was opened, "Don't you get on that line! I said don't!" There was a short pause, then Sheldon yelled more strongly, "And don't do the chicken dance in the line!" Then yelled "Huh! I still got my authority!"

When I asked Stevie about it later, he said he went with his mom to a neurobiology lecture. Stevie loves neurobiology, he says it's the greatest science field because it includes the study of the processes we use to study every other science. He's been going with his mom to lectures and spending time in her lab a lot lately. If you knew Uncle Sheldon, that would have been enough for you to figure this out. He thinks his field, theoretical physics, is the absolute best and Stevie preferring another field is driving him crazy. I'm not sure what I'd like to study when I grow up, but my dad says every field is equally important.

I feel sorry for Stephen, but at the time, I was happy with the distraction. When Uncle Sheldon stopped yelling I quickly got back to work closely on the branches, hoping the discussion on presenting the project wouldn't continue.

"Sophie…" Mia started.

Thankfully, Riley and her friends just walked down the stairs.

I felt Riley's hand laying lain gently on my shoulder. I turned to look at her. "Wonderful job, Sissy!" she said softly, smiling. She then turned to look at Mia, "You guys are doing amazingly!"

"Thanks," we both said.

Randi and Irene were looking at our painting, and at the one beaker we had nearby with the copper and diluted nitric acid, so we would see how it would look when painting.

"So this one is the main thing, right?" Randi asked.

"Yes, we will have five of those," I answered, "we'll create the reaction in real time, the painting is for background."

"Oh, so it'll be like trees in a pond!" Irene said.

"Exactly," I smiled.

"But how does it look before the reaction?" Randi asked.

"The solution will be colorless. See, the solution is nitric acid. The threads are copper. When you put copper in nitric acid, the Cu2+ ions, of the copper, and the nitrate ions, of the nitric acid, coordinate in a way that makes for the solution to turn green, and then this sort of brown-green. Then we will dilute it, and the water will displace the nitrate ions around the copper so the solution will turn blue, like you see here."

"Wow, that's so cool!" Randi said.

While the girls were looking at the beaker, Mia looked at me, raising her eyebrow.

I knew what she was trying to say. "That doesn't count," I whispered to her. I've known Randi and Irene for years, this was not like talking to a bunch of random strangers.

"This is seriously cool Soph," Irene said, "but we have to go, the party starts in ten minutes," she said, now looking at Riley and Randi. Riley said there was a new girl in their grade and she invited everybody to a party at her house. Riley wasn't much into it, we're both not really party people, but she said her friends really wanted to go so she gave in.

"Calm down," Riley said to Irene, "No one's gonna be on time anyway."

"Everybody's gonna get there at some point, and the fewer girls hanging around when Nathan sees me, the better," Irene said.

Riley rolled her eyes, "You do know he is aware of the existence of other girls, right? If he wants you it shouldn't matter how many girls are around."

"It does, for impact, I want him to see me in this dress and there will be this glow around me, not for real but like, in his head, and he'll think 'Woah that's the girl who's sitting behind me in Social Studies? I never realized how hot she is! I gotta ask her out and give her my Mathlete t-shirt!'"

We all snickered.

"Okay, but take things slow, or the next thing you know you'll be picking extracurriculars together!" Riley joked.

"Ahh, the dream," Irene said dreamily.

Riley shook her head, smiling.

"Well, I don't need to do extracurriculars together, but getting two words out of Matt would be nice," Randi said, "So far the most I've got is a minute of him looking at me, and then he just went past me."

"That's because you were standing in his way and blinking at him like crazy," Irene said.

"It looked like your eyelids were having a wrestling match," Riley said.

"I was batting my eyes! You know, in Japan they have a name for women who are too straightforward and active in their courting, restraint is important," Randi defended.

"Just because you read ten mangas a week, doesn't mean you're Japanese!" Irene said. "Anyway, let's just go! Who knows, maybe Riley will finally pick a guy," she said, looking at Riley with a smile, Randi following.

Riley scoffed, "Would you stop?! I told you nobody's flirting with me!"

Irene shook her head and sighed. "Okay, putting aside all the guys who are not at all in to you," she shared a look with Randi, making Riley roll her eyes, "If you could choose someone to be your boyfriend, or your girlfriend but your obsession with Dustin from 'Wizards of the Palace' tells me otherwise," to which Riley blushed (she has a big crush on him), "who would it be? And don't start with that plausibility crap, just, hypothetically."

All eyes turned on Riley, whose eyes turned wide. "Umm..I.. Wait, weren't you in a hurry? One moment you can't be a minute late and the other you're wasting time on some stupid hypothetical questions, you know Nathan would probably like his girl more consistent," Riley shook her head and started heading to the door.

Irene and Randi followed her out, sharing a look.

I sure hope there won't be so much boy-talk when I'm fifteen. It's so complicated and.. frightening. But I had mastered the art of being unnoticed, I call it 'Wallflower power'. Some superheroes have invisibility powers, so why shouldn't this sort of real-life equivalent be considered a power? I'm really good at it, and this way I don't have to talk to the boys or to the girls who aren't my friends. In fact, most boys don't even know I exist, which I'm happy about. Yes, there was that morning Raiden from homeroom saw me on the way to class and thought I was lost and took me across the fence to elementary. I had to sneak back when he wasn't looking, passing through the old cleaning closet everybody says is haunted. But hey, I managed to hold my breath so I only inhaled that strong chemical stench for a few milliseconds.

Back to non-potentially-lethal chemistry, Mia and I finished our work about half an hour later, and then I called Mom, Dad and Maxi to see it.

"Oh my God!" Mom said, "That's amazing! And so beautiful! And brilliant!" she looked at me and grinned, "Just like my baby!" She hugged me, well, squeezed me, tight. Normally I would be embarrassed, but Mia had heard my mom call me baby over a million times.

"It really is impressive, girls," Dad said, grinning, "Very inventive, and thought out."

"The color's really pretty!" Maxi said.

Turning to him, I saw that he was getting close to the sample beaker, so I ran and took him into a hug, "Thank you, my beloved little brother!"

Maxi was not fooled for a second, "Relax, I won't break anything! It would be nice if someone trusted me for a change," he sighed, released from the hug and then accidentally knocked down the grape juice bottle I had on a stool, thankfully plastic and empty.

The weekend was nice and fun, the gang came to our house on Saturday and on Sunday Riley, Maxi and I had a 'Wizards of the Palace' marathon. But then came Sunday night, the night before the fair. I had a feeling this would happen. As soon as my head hit the pillow the thoughts started running. Thoughts about everything that could go wrong in the fair, and thus my life, and thus the lives of my family and friends. An hour went by, then another, then a half, and sleep wasn't near.

I decided to get up and walk around the house or something, maybe doing something else would help. I was doing my best to be quiet, but I had to flush the toilet. That was enough to wake up Maxi, who's a fairly light sleeper.

"Are you alright?" he asked, standing beside me as I was closing the bathroom door, almost giving me a heart attack.

I calmed my breath and then said, quietly, "Go to sleep, Maxi, it's the middle of the night."

"You're nervous about the fair, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, yes I am, but you can't do anything about it, there's no point for you to be up."

"If you don't sleep enough you won't perform as well tomorrow, sleep deprivation hurts almost everything."

"Yes, I know. I'm also nervous about that. I'm too nervous to fall asleep, and too nervous about not falling asleep, so way too nervous to fall asleep," I said, "Now I'm also too nervous about how being too nervous about not falling asleep makes me too nervous to fall asleep."

"Okay," Maxi said.

"What? No Maxi, not o-" I knew where this was heading.

"I'm gonna do it," he said, with a nod.

"Maxi, don't-"

"I'm gonna get you to fall asleep."

'Great', I thought, knowing he wouldn't go to sleep until I did. When Maxi takes on a 'mission' it's almost impossible to make him give up on it.

We ended up trying all sorts of methods over the next hour. Several sorts of meditation, breathing techniques and noises of all colors. In the end, it was actually when Maxi was going over the list of what we did and what we were yet to try, that I felt my eyes closing.

So I got some sleep before the fair, but I was still determined not to do any talking. We had many people coming to watch our project every time we operated it (which was every 20 minutes), and they seemed to like it. Mia explained our work, but she couldn't remember the details of the reaction, just that copper and nitric acid react that way. She looked at me every time when she was talking to people, but I was too scared. I just cuddled into my mom.

At one point, between showings, Mom was talking to Damon Samuels' mom, and Dad tried to convince me to try speaking.

"But what if I mess up?" I asked.

"Then you can apologize and correct yourself," he said.

"But what if they laugh at me and think I'm weird and tell other people and they laugh and-"

"Princess, they won't laugh at you," he tried to calm me down.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, Umm.. no, I guess I cannot say for sure," he frowned, thinking., "There's always the chance, there's always a slight chance for many things really, even the most unexpected ones, one cannot predict the future-"

"So they could laugh at me, everybody could laugh, and point and-"

I was cut off by Stephen who came up to me, "Sophie, may I have a word with you?" he asked, looking intensely into my eyes. He's not that good with eye contact, sometimes he doesn't do it, sometimes it's too intense or kinda weird. When it's intense and long it's usually when there's something important, so I agreed and followed him a few steps away.

"I would like to inform you of an insight I have gained that is relevant to your current situation," he said.

"Um, okay."

"Those who speak get the major part of the credit," he said.

"What credit? I think I need you to take a step backwards, or maybe two or three" I asked. Sometimes it's like he's starting the conversation in the middle, so we ask for him to go back.

"I have been part of group projects, and have witnessed others presenting group projects, since third grade. Based on my observations, those who take part in oral presentation of said projects tend to be given the majority of the credit for the groups' work, regardless of their actual contribution. There also seems to be a certain correlation between the amount of speaking one does and the credit one's given, but I have not calculated it."

"How did you get that? How do you measure credit?" I asked.

"Excellent question," he said, "That is an important limitation of research concerning this issue. However, I believe for preliminary conclusions such as mine, it is enough to use the way others refer to the work in question as an indication of credit being granted. I have noticed others tend to refer to the work as belonging to the person, or persons, who spoke, and 'their friends', in a way akin to first-authorship on a paper – a paper is described as being written by its first author and 'their colleagues'."

"So you're saying that by not speaking I don't get enough credit for my work."

"That is correct. You have contributed to this work more than Mia did, and so you should be first author."

"If I don't get under the spotlight, then I'll remain in the shadow."

"That would depend on the lighting in the room you're in," Stevie said, confused. He tends to take things literally.

"No, sorry, that was a metaphor," I explained.

"I see," he said, and after a second chuckled, "That is a metaphor as well."

"Yeah," I smiled. Then I sighed, "I understand what you're saying, but, I can't speak in front of so many people I don't know."

"My social skills group leader says if one wants to do something new one first has to do it for the first time. I have pointed out the problems in this sentence several times, but he maintains it is correct. Perhaps it makes sense to a neurotypical mind," Stephen said.

"There is something in it…" I said.

"Also, watching this great injustice is making my arms twitch, and I would rather avoid permanent arm damage. I need them to turn the pages of my comic books."

Ten minutes after that we had another showing. Just like before, when we were finished the people applauded, and then started asking how we did it. Mia was about to answer, but I decided to give it a try.

"Umm.." I started, and then took a big breath, trying to gather the courage.

"What you see here is a rather clever utilization of the reaction between copper and nitric acid, Cu(s) + 4HNO3(aq) — Cu(NO3)2(aq) + 2NO2(g) + 2H2O(l), creating a green-brown shade. A dilution of the solution makes for a blue shade, 3Cu(s) + 8HNO3(aq) — 3Cu(NO3)2(aq) + 2NO(g) + 4H2O(l). Sophie here had figured this could appear similar to a tree in a pond, and decided to add a drawing in the background to make sure others grasp her intentions," Stevie said.

He was then asked how I got the idea and answered that. He wanted me to get proper credit, I knew it, but he didn't notice he was now talking for me. That's your typical atypical Stevie.

The attention was on Stephen, and it was comfortable for me, but I knew I was again in the shadow, maybe with a tiny flashlight on me.

Then, this one woman, who was looking closely at the drawing, said "The chemistry is impressive, but I gotta say, these colors are just beautiful, where did you buy the dyes?"

"I made them," I blurted out.

"Really?" she looked at me, surprised.

"Yes. They're made of natural ingredients, red cabbage and baking soda for blue, spinach for green, beets for red, coffee for brown, turmeric for yellow." I went on to explain how I made the dyes. Then a man said he didn't understand what Stevie said about the reaction, and I explained it to him, and then to other people who asked. It was weird, it was like the words just flew out of my mouth. I knew what to say, I knew the facts of how these things worked. It turned out I could do it after all. As time went by, I even stopped thinking about how I was speaking, and how much I was speaking, and whether my pitch was high enough or low enough for others, and whether they understood what I said or were just nodding to avoid embarrassing me, I hope they weren't, maybe they were? Was I speaking too fast? Or too slowly? Oh no, I've got to start preparing for next year's fair.