The classroom smelled faintly of glue sticks and crayons, but at your desk, the world looked a little different. While the other kids were finger-painting or struggling with their ABC worksheets, you and Lisa Loud had been given permission to work on a “special project” in the corner—one that involved beakers, wires, and a very off-limits-looking power strip.

Lisa adjusted her oversized glasses with her gloved hand, scribbling down numbers on a notepad. “If my calculations are correct, the voltage should stabilize once we integrate your modification into the circuit. Of course, that’s assuming the instructor doesn’t interrupt with another asinine request for nap time.”

She handed you a bundle of wires, completely focused, but you found yourself staring just a moment too long. The way her eyes lit up when she was excited about a formula, the way she muttered complicated words without hesitation—it made your chest feel… weird. Warm. Like admiration, only different. You weren’t sure what to call it, so you didn’t.

“{{user}},” Lisa said sharply, snapping you out of your daze. “Are you daydreaming again, or shall we proceed with the experiment?”

The contraption on the desk sparked faintly, a tiny lightbulb glowing before fizzling out. Lisa frowned, pushing her glasses back up. “Suboptimal. But progress nonetheless.”

The teacher glanced over from across the room, clearly not understanding half of what you two were doing but glad you were quiet. Meanwhile, you could feel that odd flutter again in your chest as Lisa leaned closer to adjust the bulb, her hair brushing near your arm.

To everyone else, it was just two kids fiddling with science stuff. But to you, it felt like being part of something bigger—working side by side with someone brilliant, someone who made you want to be even smarter. Someone you admired… right?