Moth and I wear safety goggles in preparation for an experiment on reactions today. Truly, no one should allow the two of us to work with anything that could be explosive, but here we are about to cause a reaction Mr. Mac calls "elephant's toothpaste."

"Hydrogen peroxide naturally and gradually breaks down into oxygen and hydrogen, but when we add the potassium iodine, the process is sped up," Mr. Mac explains from the front of the chemistry lab. It's a different room than our normal classroom, with storage for all the glass instruments around the perimeter, fire extinguishers aplenty, and sinks at each table top. "The potassium iodine works as a catalyst to force the hydrogen peroxide to break down, and as a result," he stops mid-sentence to add in the catalyst to the hydrogen peroxide, water, and dish soap mixture in a glass up front. As soon as the droplets hit his mixture, it begins to foam and quickly, startlingly, the foam bursts up from the container and falls into the tray Mr. Mac has placed beneath his experiment. He continues speaking as though he didn't trail off a minute ago. "The mixture transforms into what looks like elephant's toothpaste."

One of the kids who acts like an idiot for fun raises his hand, and Mr. Mac reluctantly calls on him.

"Does your wife use that to brush her teeth?"

"Office," Mr. Mac orders.

"Yep," the kid says before picking his backpack off the floor and saluting us all goodbye.

Jerk.

"As I was about to say," Mr. Mac continues after taking a moment to collect himself, "all of you have the ingredients for the experiment at your tables. Make sure to measure correctly in order to achieve the same sort of reaction you saw up here. If any of the variables are off, the entire experiment will look different. You may also notice I've included food coloring in your ingredient lists. This is purely for aesthetic purposes as long as you only add a small amount. Get to work, I will be around to help you if needed."

Moth turns to me, rubbing his palms together like some diabolical planner. "Ready?"

I laugh. "Um... as long as we don't accidentally blow up the entire lab."

His eyes go wide. "There'd be toothpaste everywhere."

I laugh again. Moth has a way of making everything lighthearted. "Anyways, time to read the directions."

We stop our joking only until we have added the final ingredient to the mixture in our beaker: two drops of red food coloring, so that, as Moth said, it might look like lava coming out of a volcano.

"Hey, so, you know how this is Patti's last week here?" Moth asks, putting the cap on the red food coloring. It looks like a little gnome's cap, and I smile at the memory of Grant O'Reilly's "gNOme SMOKING" sign and how proud he was of that.

"Duh."

"Okay, wise guy, well... Sean and I were talking after class today, and I think we should throw her a surprise going away party this Friday night. It can be at my house this time. My parents will be home, so it won't be like Sean's party--"

Thank goodness.

"--but they are having their friends over for their own party, so it'll be like one big happy family party time celebration."

"We should put that on the invitations: Come to Moth's big happy family party time celebration." He smirks. "Why are your parents celebrating? Like, what's the occasion?" I ask, hovering the potassium iodine dropper over the beaker.

"Like they need a reason to party. C'mon Janie, have you met me?"

"Are you ready for this to explode?" I ask.

"Oh yeah, get it girl," he replies.

I squeeze the black rubber top of the dropper, and as the iodine falls, hits the mixture, and explodes mostly pink looking foam onto our work station since we forgot to put a tray under our beaker, Moth says something more explosive than the elephant toothpaste:

"But they're celebrating me going to Hollywood too."

My mouth drops open.

"What?"

"Janie, Timothy," Mr. Mac scolds from across the room, "you didn't follow the very first direction to set up your station properly."

"Sorry Mr. Mac," Moth says, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. He's serious and for once, he looks scared, scared of my reaction.

"Did you hear me?" he asks after a few moments of silent staring between us.

"Yeah, Moth, of course I heard you. How did you...? When did you...? What's the...? What?"

"Clean it up, you two," Mr. Mac orders.

"Yep, sorry," Moth says again over his shoulder. "We should really get paper towels before he sends us off to Dr. Howard's office too."

"Okay," is all I can think to say.

We quietly go to one of the perimeter cleaning stations where the emergency eye wash is too, and grab as many paper towels as we can carry. Back at our table, we slide most of the elephant toothpaste off of the surface and into the tray it was supposed to be in from the start, and then we soak up the remaining streaks of it with the paper towels.

When the station is acceptable, he finally responds. "So, um... an agent, Patti's agent actually, contacted me too... it was Saturday, I was in my pajamas still, eating cheerios."

I smile. "Okay, sure, and what did he say?"

"He said he wanted to possibly sign me. I'm going to fly out there this weekend, Saturday morning, and then I will be back Tuesday. I'm going to go out there to meet with him and sort of, like, audition for him. He said there are some musically inclined roles he thinks I'd be good for, and as you know, that's, like, sort of the dream, you know? I can't say no. I also can't just move out there like Patti, my parents can't do that, but if he signs me, I'm going to be out there most weekends from, like, Saturday onward." Then, soon after finishing his last breath, he asks, "Are you upset with me?"

"I thought you didn't care about what people think of you."

"Right, dude, I don't, I care what you think. I care what Thatch thinks and what Patti thinks. Patti, by the way, is thrilled. I texted her last period, because I can't stand health class. They teach all the stupid stuff everyone ignores anyway and none of the real stuff, but that's just me." He takes a deep breath. "I haven't told Thatcher yet, but I'm telling you now. Are you okay?"

I pout, but the truth is I know this is his dream. This is amazing news, an amazing opportunity, and I should be happy for him. But I'm not. I'm selfishly sad.

Sad that he won't be around to hang out on weekends, but also sad that two thirds of my closest friends seem to be moving on from Riverside and heading off to Hollywood, while Thatcher and I are left behind. Let's be honest, while I am left behind. If Moth is getting a call, Thatcher is bound to get one soon too.

"I will miss you," I end up saying as a compromise between my most excited thoughts and my most negative thoughts.

My excited thoughts wouldn't sound sincere right now, and my negative thoughts aren't productive right now. And honestly, probably not true. Like the thought that's popping into my head now as Moth pats me on the shoulder that this sort of opportunity, the go to Hollywood and get an agent and star in movies and TV shows kind, won't ever happen to me. But man... does it feel real right now while I'm faking this smile.

"I'm in for a going away party for Patti on Friday," I say. "Are you going to tell people you'll be leaving the next morning too?"

"No, Friday is about Patti. I'm not trying to take any of her spotlight away. Not like I could, that girl is starshine personified. No, she's more like a meteor."

I laugh. "How?"

"She's this brilliant, powerful force, beautifully illuminated by her own energy, and when she hits, she's going to hit big."

"That was somehow lovely and terrifying."

"Like Patti's drive."

"I know you both just sort of mutually agreed to not see each other, but, like, what happened there? What is happening there?"

He smiles. "Nothing is happening except for an even stronger friendship between us."

"So you really just mutually agreed it wasn't working? That's Patti's story."

"That's because Patti is a gem of a human. She dumped me."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," Moth says as Mr. Mac instructs the entire class now to clean our tables, wash our beakers, and put our chemicals away.

I distractedly begin following his directions, but I don't take my eyes off of Moth. "Why?" I ask.

"She had it all written out. She said she loved the idea of me, but that in reality we were better as friends and she didn't want to continue a romantic relationship only for us to end up disliking each other."

"She loved the idea of you?"

"Yeah, you know, like the whole chill vibe. She's very tightly wound, and I think my opposite-ness was the appeal. But I think that makes some people uncomfortable."

"Your chill vibe?"

He nods.

"Why? I love that about you."

"Yeah, but imagine being in a relationship with me. I'm supposed to be the chill guy, but, like, what happens when I'm upset? Would you be able to see me cry? Or hear me get angry? People expect people like me to be happy all the time, and when we're not, it's like, woah who is this person I used to know? But really it should be, woah what is this side of this person that I need to acknowledge and hear? Nobody listens anymore, everyone just expects you to be happy or to easily become happy again."

"Did you go through that with Patti?"

"No, no, I think she would be cool with all of that, I'm just explaining what I thought she meant when she said the idea of me. I think with her it was also that she liked the idea of having a boyfriend, but realized she didn't need it."

"Oh, okay. Well, if you ever need to just feel something, I'll listen."

"Cool, will do, Janie... zany. Zany Janie? Nope, I don't like that one either."

I smile. "You'll still be in the play though, right?"

"Of course." He bows before me. "You see an asshead of your own."

I laugh, but I don't really get it. It must be one of his lines.

"Good. I'm sort of freaking out about my part. It's pretty big, and I'm not sure I'm the right person for it."

He puts the iodine back in one of the nearby cabinets and returns. "I said Patti was like a meteor, and you said that was both lovely and terrifying. So here is your lovely and terrifying comparison: You're like a shark."

"No, what? A shark?"

"Yes, a shark, and if you don't like it, deal with it. You're like a shark. You don't always show everyone your true power and strength, but when you do, the world hears about it. You think of yourself as just another fish in the sea, meanwhile you haven't noticed that you're eating all the other fish for breakfast, metaphorically. You're killing it. But you can't stop moving, because if you stop moving, you stop all together. Sharks, because of their gill system, you because of this fear you have that you're not enough. Keep swimming."

I sing Dory's song from Finding Nemo, and he smiles.

"Don't downplay your power, Janie," he says, "I see you hiding behind Dory. But seriously, keep going. You're doing good work. Don't let yourself stop."

I reluctantly accept the comparison with a smile. Sharks are scary, but he's right, they're powerful. I don't see myself as a shark at all, more like a minnow or one of those unhealthy goldfish you win at carnivals. But if Moth says I'm a shark, I'm a shark. He wouldn't lie to me.

"Shark maybe isn't the best comparison for you, I will keep workshopping this one. But for now, that's my final answer," he adds.

"I will come up with some lovely and terrifying comparison for you too," I say with a smile.

The bell rings, our table is clean, and Mr. Mac dismisses us for the day.

Time for me to keep on swimming all the way home and start learning my lines, I guess.