Everybody Bugs Out by Leslie Margolis Read Free Book Online

it’s fake because she was born in Missouri and only lived in France for a year when she was two, but I don’t know. Her mother is from there.
    â€œThere’s a big difference between using outside reference materials and actually stealing intellectual property,” Ms. Roberts said. “Basically, do not copy something word for word. And if you do use someone’s idea, make sure to provide the appropriate reference. I’ve written out the specifics, because this is important. So please open your notebooks and write down the definition.”
    She turned on the overhead projector, where she’d defined plagiarism: To steal or pass off someone else’s ideas or work as your own, or to use someone else’s work without crediting your source.
    Ms. Roberts coughed. “In other words, no cutting and pasting. Everything must be written in your own words. And if you come up with a project that you found in a book or online, mention that in the reference section of your final report. Is this clear?”
    Oliver raised his hand. “What if you come up with something that you think is original but someone has actually done it before? Because haven’t people been doing science projects for millions of years?”
    â€œYou’ve raised a good point, Oliver,” said Ms. Roberts. “However, I think that millions of years is a bit of an exaggeration. The first science fair can be traced back to the 1920s and they became very popular in the 1950s. But yes—that’s still a considerable number of projects. And there’s nothing wrong with repeating an experiment that’s been done before. I’m sure that will be the case with most groups. Some of you may enter similar or even the same projects, which is fine. What I’m saying is, original work is a must. You must do the experiment yourself or with your partners and write everything in your own words. Okay?”
    Everyone nodded except for Davis Peabody, who was too busy drawing pictures of monsters wearing tighty whities. (It’s his latest thing—weird, I know. And speaking of plagiarism, kind of a Captain Underpants rip-off.)
    â€œNow, if anyone has any further concerns, we can discuss them after class,” Ms. Roberts said before going on to talk about cell structure.
    As soon as the bell rang, my lab group made plans to meet up after last period so we could go to Oliver’s house.
    And before I knew it, the school day had ended and we were on our way. Oliver lives in Canyon Ranch, which is the rich part of town on the other side of school. It felt weird walking to his place, not because of all the gigantic houses we kept passing but because for the first time ever, I was walking to a boy’s house—and going there with not one but two whole boys.
    Of course, technically, Oliver and I were the only ones walking. Tobias had his dirt bike and he rode it slowly in front of us, circling back every block or two to complain about how slowly we were moving.
    The thing that made the trip funny was how normal it felt. It wasn’t that much different from walking home with Rachel.
    There were no rhyming games, and we didn’t talk about the school dance or about who was going out with whom, and we didn’t compliment each other’s outfits, but Oliver and I did talk about school stuff. Which classes he liked—English, math, and Spanish—and which ones he couldn’t stand—social studies and stained glass.
    â€œI thought those art classes were supposed to be fun,” I said.
    â€œMe, too,” said Oliver. “That’s why I signed up. But Jeremiah Lindy sliced open his middle finger on our second day of cutting glass and he needed six stitches.”
    â€œYee-ouch!” I said.
    â€œYeah, I almost passed out when I saw the blood. Oh, and then Claire Macintyre burned herself with the soldering iron and had to go to the nurse. It wasn’t that serious, but ever