Sebastian tightened the final screw on his cardboard volcano. His fingers were sticky with glue. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a faint white streak. He stepped back to admire the jagged peaks he built all week.
The next morning, Sebastian carried the heavy box to school. His shoelace came untied right at the entrance. He tripped, sending the box skidding across the floor. The lid popped open, and baking soda spilled out in a loud hiss.
Sebastian rushed to clean up the mess. He swept the powder into a pile while other children pointed and giggled. He felt his cheeks burn hot under the fluorescent lights. He gripped the broom handle until his knuckles turned white.
Just before the judges arrived, Sebastian poured vinegar into the cup. Nothing happened because he forgot the food coloring. Panic rose as he grabbed a marker. He scratched the label of the bottle in frustration while the room held its breath.
Sebastian shook the bottle vigorously. Suddenly the red foam erupted high into the air. It splattered the judge’s shoes. The judge laughed, clapping slowly. Sebastian beamed, wiping a speck of red from his cheek.