The first day of biology wasn’t supposed to be memorable. You were just trying to survive another hour of North Shore High—until Ms. Norbury read the words that changed everything:

“Cady Heron… you’re with (your name).”

Cady turned toward you, her smile soft but nervous. She’d just transferred from Africa, everyone whispered, homeschooled by her zoologist parents. You’d noticed her before—her wild red hair, that curious spark in her eyes—but now, sitting beside her at the lab table, she felt close enough to touch.

“Hi,” she said, voice hopeful. “I’m Cady.”

“I know,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Everyone knows Cady.”

She blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Is that… bad?”

You smiled. “Not at all.”

The first experiment was simple—cell division. But Cady was fascinated, leaning close to the microscope, gasping every time she saw something new. Her excitement was contagious.

“You really like this stuff,” you said, watching her light up.

“I grew up studying animals,” she said, glancing up. “It’s weird… science always made sense to me. People don’t.”

You laughed. “Yeah, people don’t come with labels and instructions.”

That made her grin. “Exactly.”