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Team BFF--Race to the Finish! #2 Page 3
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Behind her, I could hear voices echoing down the hallway.
“Clean teeth are important!” Abuela was saying, probably to Pearl.
Mom glanced back into the hall. “When’s the hackathon again?” she asked me.
“Saturday,” I told her, feeling a little exasperated. Was it that hard to remember?
“Right . . .” Mom nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll talk to Dad about it.” Then she gave me a kiss. “See you tomorrow, honey,” she said, closing the door.
“Does your mom work every night?” Erin asked.
“No. Her schedule changes,” I explained. “Sometimes she works days, sometimes she works nights—it all depends on how busy the hospital is.”
“You two have the same smile,” Maya remarked, looking up from her sketchbook. She had started doodling a robot with swirly designs all over it.
“Yeah,” I said, looking down at my whiteboard. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mom was going to miss yet another one of my events. I could just feel it.
Maya waved her sketchbook around. “Earth to Sophia!”
I tried to shake off my bad feeling. “Sorry.” I straightened my whiteboard on my lap. “So, we need to figure out how to get our robot through the maze.”
“And be creative,” Lucy added, sounding hopeless.
The only sound was Maya’s pencil on her sketchpad.
Lucy raised a finger. “Didn’t Mrs. Clark talk about how we should plan out our robot idea?”
I nodded. “Yeah. She talked about coming up with the idea, planning the algorithm, and then coding the algorithm.” I wrote down the three steps on my whiteboard in separate columns.
Maya looked up from her pad and gave my whiteboard a dismissive look. “Can’t we just, like, code the robot when we get there?”
“No, we can’t,” I said, getting annoyed. I actually liked the steps Mrs. Clark had described. It gave us a clear plan—Coach Tilton would have approved. “We have to figure everything out ahead of time so that we know what to do when we get to the coding part,” I explained. Lucy and Erin nodded.
Maya was fiddling with her choker. “Okay, I get the ‘idea’ part, but what’s the algorithm part?”
“An algorithm is a set of instructions a computer follows in a certain order to complete a task,” Lucy said. “Mrs. Clark talked about it at the meeting you missed.”
Erin sat up and crossed her legs. “Exactly. I think what we need to do is plan our algorithm with pseudocode.”
“Pseudowhat?” Maya asked.
“Pseudocode is code that humans can read and computers can’t, remember?”
“Oh yeah. But that’s useful how?” I said. “Since we’re, um, working with a robot?”
Erin thought for a minute. “You know how Coach Tilton writes up directions for players?”
I frowned. “You mean, the plays?”
Erin beamed like I’d just given her a gold star. “Yeah! The plays. Well, pseudocode is kind of like that. You have to write down the logic of your code to help you plan before you write the code.”
“Just like the players need a game plan before they run onto the field and start tackling people,” Lucy said, catching on.
“Wait.” Maya leaned over to grab Lucy’s wrist. “Is that a Rudolf Randolf wrap bracelet?”
I hadn’t noticed the woven blue silk cord that was wrapped several times around Lucy’s wrist.
“Yeah.” Lucy grinned. “A client of my mom’s gave it to her as a thank-you gift for solving some big computer problem. Mom said it wasn’t her style, so she let me have it.” Lucy moved her arm so everyone could see how the royal blue shimmered against her dark skin. Her mom was a software programmer—one of the only black female coders at her company. “Isn’t it cool?” Lucy wasn’t as into fashion as Maya was, but she liked adding little touches to her outfits.
Maya ran her fingers over the cord. “I love it. Can I borrow it sometime?”
“Sure.” Lucy beamed.
“It’s superspecial that you’re sharing your jewelry and all, but can we focus?” I said, rapping my knuckles on the whiteboard. If I didn’t keep us on task, no one would. “We have a hackathon to plan for, remember?”
“Yes, Coach Sophia,” Maya said, saluting me.
We all giggled and got back to our robot plan.
Maya tapped her eraser against her mouth. “So if we figure all this out now, we can bring notes to the hackathon, right?” She started doodling again. “’Cause there’s no way I’m gonna remember all of this.”
“No notes.” I looked at Lucy and Erin. “Didn’t Mrs. Clark say that?”
Lucy nodded. “And we can’t really practice beforehand, since we don’t have the robot or modules. I think we just have to come up with an idea for what we want our robot to do and hope we can make it happen at the hackathon.”
It seemed impossible. Even though we’d learned a lot in coding club over the past few months, none of us had ever coded a robot before.
We finished all the s’mores and tried to come up with ideas for how to get our robot through the maze (and be original at the same time). But we were losing steam—Lucy couldn’t stop yawning, and Maya kept drawing.
Suddenly Erin stood up and started playing music from her phone. Loud music.
I looked at her. “Um, Erin, what are you doing?” We were all getting tired, but now wasn’t the time for music. It was kind of frustrating that she wasn’t taking this more seriously.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she said, shaking her hips. “Dancing!”
“Again?” I groaned. “If you’re even thinking about doing the worm—”
Maya tilted her head. “Wait, what’s this song? Erin . . . is that you singing?”
Erin grinned. “Do you like it?”
“Oh my gosh, it is you!” I said, recognizing her voice. The song was fast and upbeat, but Erin’s voice was soft and melodic.
“It’s this song called ‘Dance to the Beat’ that we’re doing for film club. They’re going to film me dancing, so I need to practice.” She reached for Maya’s hand.
“Maybe our robot could play ‘Dance to the Beat’!” Erin said, spinning Maya around.
One of the modules they’d provide at the hackathon was a speaker, so it could work. I wrote “Play ‘Dance to the Beat’” in the Ideas column on the board.
“Any other modules we should try to use?” Lucy asked.
I considered the list. An arm and a ball—if the robot could be musical like Erin, couldn’t it be sporty, too?
“Maybe we could have the robot push one of the balls,” I suggested.
Lucy came over to look at the pages with me. “That could be cool. I doubt anyone else will do that.”
An image of Sammy kicking the soccer ball floated into my mind. He might think of this idea, too. Still, I wrote “Push the ball” under Ideas on the whiteboard.
Maya leaned down to look at the open page of the binder. “Maybe we could combine the ball with something else.”
That sounded good, but I had no idea what.
“How about dancing?” Erin suggested excitedly. “I could teach our robot a few moves!” She shook her hips. “Let the algo-rhythm move you!”
“Erin, we need serious ideas,” I said, sighing. “We want to win this thing, don’t we?” I asked.
Maya wagged her eyebrows. “Yeah . . . but I think you have a little extra motivation.”
I frowned. “Like what?”
“Oh nothing . . . ,” Erin trilled, sashaying across the room. Then she turned around dramatically. “Like beating Sammy!”
“Whatever,” I said dismissively. “Of course I want to beat him. I want to beat everybody!”
“Uh-huh,” Erin answered, shaking her hips.
Lucy was the only one who seemed to be focusin
g on our coding project. “Soph, any idea is a good idea, right?” That’s what Mrs. Clark always said. “I think you should write Erin’s idea down.”
I wrote “Dancing,” even though it was obviously impossible. The rover looked like a car, not a ballerina. “Anything else?”
No one could come up with more ideas. “We’ve done enough work. DJ Erin says it’s time to boogie!” Erin said, dropping her voice. She turned up the music and started spinning around.
“Friends don’t let friends dance alone,” Lucy shouted, joining in. And that was how our coding club meeting ended with the four of us dancing around my room like maniacs. Again.
Before my friends left, I remembered one more thing.
“Maya, wait, I have to give you your T-shirt.” I handed her one of the tees that Mrs. Clark had given us for the hackathon.
“Um, thanks . . .” Maya held it up. The T-shirt was white with bold yellow letters on the front that said HACKATHON. Maya wrinkled her nose like it was a slice of moldy pizza. “Do we have to wear this?”
I shrugged. “Mrs. Clark said we could make up a team name and decorate it if we wanted to. But we don’t have to.”
Maya looked relieved. She tapped her finger on her chin. “Wait, I have an idea,” she said. “How about we call ourselves the Rockin’ Robots?”
“Oh my gosh, that’s perfect!” Lucy gushed, clapping. After the dance party we’d just had, it did seem fitting.
Maya looked at the T-shirt again. “Can everybody meet tomorrow after school?” We all nodded. “Awesome. Bring your T-shirts. I have tons of supplies. We have got to make these more presentable.”
Everybody grabbed their stuff and headed downstairs. I loved hanging out with my BFFs, but we needed to come up with an original robot idea, and they seemed more interested in looking at bracelets, bugging me about Sammy, and dancing. And there were only four days until the hackathon. I just hoped we’d get it together in time—’cause there was no way I was letting Sammy’s team beat us to a prize.
Chapter Three
The next day, I found Coach between classes. When he wasn’t on the field, he was teaching eighth-grade English.
“Hi, Coach,” I said, jogging up to him. “Sorry to ask you this, but . . . would it be okay if I missed practice this afternoon?”
He frowned. “Sophia, I gave you the manager job because you’re usually so responsible.”
“I know . . . and I am.” I paused, giving him an apologetic look. “But I’m in coding club, and we’re getting ready for our first hackathon this weekend. It’s just that I need to meet with my team to prepare.”
He gave me a long look. “If it’s for a school-related activity, it’s fine to miss practice today, Sophia.” Coach pointed his finger at me, his face stern. “But don’t make a habit of it.”
“Thanks, Coach—I won’t!” I said, running off to class.
When the last bell rang, Maya, Erin, Lucy, and I met up in front of the school to go to Maya’s.
“Want to stop at the Bakeshop first?” Maya asked us. “We don’t have any good snacks at my house, and I’m dying for a cake pop.” Her mom was pretty strict about eating between meals, though she sometimes baked us a Chinese dessert called a sweetheart cake that was out of this world. It was a flaky pastry with a delicious spiced filling that tasted like melon and almonds.
“Hmmm, I’m not sure,” Lucy said, her dark eyes twinkling. “Cinnamon buns, muffins . . . sounds awful.”
“Right? And what if there’s biscotti and apple crumb cake?” Erin gave a mock shiver. “The things we do for coding.”
“All I can say is, my brain works better after a cupcake,” I declared, linking my arm with Lucy’s. Lucy linked hers with Erin’s, and Erin joined arms with Maya, and we made our way down the street.
As soon as we walked into the Bakeshop, we realized we weren’t the only ones with the same idea. We got on line, and I recognized kids from school hanging out on the couches and chairs in the main area. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sammy sitting with his hackathon team.
He glanced at me, and I felt my face start to get warm. It’s not like I always felt awkward around boys. I spent enough time with the boys’ football team to know that it was ridiculous to get nervous around them—they were loud, weird, funny, and, let’s be honest, stinky. Plus, I’d known Sammy forever. But lately, I’d been getting strangely nervous around him. It’s like I suddenly realized that he had the nicest smile, the deepest, brownest eyes that matched his dark skin, and the thickest, longest eyelashes I’d ever seen. I looked over again, and he gave me a wave. I turned around, my face on fire.
Lucy must have noticed, because she nudged my arm. “Sophia, wave back!” she whispered.
I gave Sammy sort of a half wave, wrist flippy thing, and then looked at the menu on the wall as if it were the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.
Lucy leaned into me. “Maybe next time you’ll actually make eye contact.”
“Shut up!” I hissed, still staring at the menu, wondering what shade of red my face had become.
In front of us in line, I saw Leila, another girl from coding club. Glad for the distraction, I tapped her on the back. “Hey, Leila!”
Leila turned around and smiled. “Oh, hi, guys.” A taller girl was standing next to her. “This is my sister, Tania,” Leila introduced us. They both wore head scarves—Leila’s was maroon, which complemented her blue eyes well, and her sister’s was teal with a gold border.
Erin tucked a strand of blond hair under her slouchy gray beanie. “How’s it going with your hackathon team? You’re with Mark and Maddie, right?”
Their group was the only three-person team; everybody else was in teams of four or five.
Leila frowned. “Not anymore—I’m not going to the hackathon.”
“Huh?” I said. That was a surprise. “Why not? It’s going to be so fun.” Leila seemed really into coding. She was always talking about robots, and I’d heard her say she wanted to work in artificial intelligence someday. I wasn’t sure what that was, exactly, but it sounded cool.
“Mark and Maddie’s grandfather died, so they won’t be here for the rest of the week,” Leila explained. “I just found out today. They’re not coming back till Sunday.”
“Oh, wow.” I didn’t know what to say.
“That’s too bad,” Maya chimed in as we inched forward in line.
Leila’s sister was ordering her drink, and it was Leila’s turn now. “Yeah. It’s okay—there’ll be other hackathons. See you later!”
I wasn’t so sure about that—I hadn’t heard of that many hackathons. But the smell of chocolate distracted me. We were up next and all ordered the same thing: hot chocolate with homemade marshmallows, and we each got a snack to go with it. A group of people were getting up from a booth near the door, so we grabbed it.
“Mmmm . . . I could drink this every day,” Maya said, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug of cocoa. “It. Is. So. Good.”
I nodded, taking a sip. It made my stomach warm and tingly . . . or was that because of Sammy? I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, trying not to think about him. I made a mental note to pretend Sammy was Tyson next time I saw him—maybe then I wouldn’t act so awkward.
“You know what I was thinking?” Erin said, spooning up a marshmallow. “Wouldn’t it be cool to have a robot baking assistant? To get ingredients for you and be a mixer and stuff?”
“A girl can dream,” Lucy agreed, sighing.
“Some girls are already dreaming,” Maya teased, jabbing her finger into my shoulder. “About a certain soccer-playing, always-smiling—”
“Be quiet!” I hissed, holding up my palm to cut her off before she could say you-know-who’s name. “For your information, I wasn’t dreaming. I was thinking.” Something genius had just occurred to me. “Why don’t we ask Leila to join our team?” I said
as I took a bite of my berry muffin.
My friends all looked at me. “That’s a great idea!” Lucy exclaimed.
“Right? She seems cool, and it’s not like we’ve come up with an amazing robot idea yet.” They all nodded. “Leila’s always talking about robots in coding club—maybe she could help us.”
Erin nudged me. “Um, Soph? You have a hot chocolate mustache,” she said quietly. “Might wanna . . .” She gestured toward her napkin.
I quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped my lips. That was the last thing I needed Sammy to see.
Lucy looked over in his direction. “Don’t worry, he’s not looking.”
“You stop looking!” I said, elbowing her. I glanced surreptitiously across the coffee shop, and I could have sworn I saw Sammy watching me.
“Didn’t Mrs. Clark say we had until this Thursday at 1:00 p.m. to sign up online for the hackathon?” I added, wanting to change the subject—fast.
“She did,” Lucy answered, biting off a piece of her chocolate chip cookie. “But if we’re going to invite Leila, we should probably do it now—I think Mrs. Clark also said something about not being able to change your team after signing up.”
Erin polished off her cinnamon crunch muffin and crumpled the brown wrapper into a ball. “Yeah, she mentioned being disqualified. I wonder why they have such strict rules. Seems kind of weird.”
“Maybe it’s because they need to know how many robots and modules to get or something.” Maya picked leftover chocolate off her cake-pop stick. “But I totally think we should ask Leila to join our team.”
We all looked at one another and grinned.
We picked up our mugs and what was left of our snacks and walked over to Leila and her sister.
“Hi, ladies,” Lucy said, sitting down at one of the empty seats at their table. She wasn’t one to wait for permission.
Neither was I, so I joined her. “We have something we wanted to ask you,” I began.