beneath the surface
1874 Words
Katherine had always believed that time moved slower when you were being watched. Maybe it was because her life had become a series of long walks through crowded hallways where she was both invisible and somehow still the center of ridicule. Every step felt like a performance. Every glance like a verdict.
The Monday after her Academic Week panel was no different.
As she made her way to homeroom, the whispers started again.
“She actually spoke?”
“I heard she cried onstage.”
“No, she was all serious—like, TED Talk serious.”
“I didn’t even know she could talk at all.”
She kept walking, eyes forward, shoulders straight. The murmurs didn’t slow her down, but they burrowed deep under her skin like splinters.
When she entered the classroom, Kristoff was already there. He looked up briefly from his phone when she passed, but didn’t say anything. No smirk. No jab. No fake compliment.
She didn’t know which was worse—his silence or his sarcasm.
Mr. Reeves walked in just as the bell rang, calling for everyone’s attention.
“Alright, seniors. I hope you’re all recovering from last week’s Career and Academic Week. Today, we’re shifting gears to the next big event—our Senior Science Expo.”
A collective groan rolled through the room.
“Relax,” Reeves said, smiling. “It’s not a competition. It’s a requirement. You’ll be working in pairs, and your final grade will be based on your research, collaboration, and presentation.”
Katherine tensed in her seat.
She hated group work. It was an open invitation for classmates to either ignore her, pawn work off on her, or mock her behind her back for “trying too hard.”
“As always,” Reeves continued, “the top three projects will be featured in the district showcase. And yes, that means extra credit. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning partners based on academic compatibility.”
Katherine’s heart sank.
“Please don’t say Kristoff,” she muttered under her breath.
“Diaz… you’re with Santiago.”
There was an audible gasp from the class.
Miguel whooped. “Yo, the dream team’s back!”
Cara turned to smirk at Kristoff. “Guess you’ll be doing all the talking again, huh?”
Katherine felt the heat rise in her face but said nothing.
Kristoff didn’t look thrilled either. He leaned back in his chair and groaned. “Seriously?”
Reeves ignored them. “You two work well under pressure. You’ve done it before. Consider this an opportunity.”
Katherine didn’t move a muscle. She stared down at her notebook, jaw tight.
When the bell rang, she packed her things slowly. She was almost out the door when Kristoff caught up to her.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you do all the work,” he said, his tone deliberately casual.
She kept walking. “I’m not worried.”
“Oh, come on. You love this stuff. You’ve probably already got a lab setup in your basement.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Act like everything’s a joke.”
He blinked, not expecting the question. “Because if I didn’t, I’d be bored out of my mind.”
She gave him a long look, then turned and walked away.
At lunch, she didn’t even try to sit in the cafeteria. She took her food outside, settling under the shade of the old oak tree near the math building. It had become her refuge—the one place where people didn’t stare quite as much.
She pulled out her notebook and began scribbling down ideas for the science expo.
Nothing too ambitious. Nothing flashy. Just something solid, research-heavy, and foolproof.
She was mid-sentence when a shadow fell across her notebook.
Kristoff.
“Really?” she said without looking up. “Can’t you harass me during actual meetings instead of on my lunch break?”
He sat down anyway, legs stretched out in front of him. “Chill. I’m not here to harass you. I just figured we should talk about the project.”
She looked at him, doubtful.
“I’m serious,” he said. “I already checked out last year’s winners. Boring stuff. Photosynthesis, water filtration, blah blah blah.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So you did research.”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m not. I’m just waiting for the punchline.”
“No punchline,” he said, unusually subdued. “I don’t want to tank this.”
That was… new.
Still, Katherine didn’t trust it. Not from him. Not yet.
“Fine,” she said. “What’s your brilliant idea?”
“Something about biofuels,” he said, pulling out a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. “I thought we could test how different food wastes generate methane.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Not bad,” she admitted.
“I know,” he said smugly.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”
They arranged to meet in the library after school.
The first session was awkward. Katherine brought binders, charts, and a preliminary outline. Kristoff brought nothing but his phone and a pencil he chewed the end off.
“Are you even going to write anything down?” she asked after twenty minutes.
“I’m more of a big-picture guy.”
“Well, I’m a details person. So unless you want this to fail—”
He cut her off. “Relax, Diaz. I’ll pull my weight.”
She wasn’t convinced. But she let it go—for now.
By the end of the week, their division of labor had started to take shape. Katherine handled most of the research and documentation. Kristoff was in charge of building the small-scale model, mostly because he had access to tools in his garage.
They didn’t talk much outside of their project meetings. And when they did, it was all business.
Until one afternoon.
They were working in the chemistry lab, waiting for their mixture to settle. Katherine was jotting down observations when Kristoff suddenly said, “You ever think about what happens after this?”
She looked up. “After high school?”
“Yeah.”
“All the time.”
“Let me guess. You’ve got a five-year plan. A ten-year plan. Probably a backup plan too.”
She shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t,” he said. “It’s just… weird.”
“What is?”
“That you’re still here.”
She blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He hesitated. “You’re smart. Like, scary smart. You could’ve transferred out years ago. Gone to a magnet school. Somewhere people actually appreciated you.”
She stared at him, stunned.
“That’s the nicest insult you’ve ever given me.”
He laughed. “I’m just saying. You don’t belong here.”
“And you do?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Unfortunately.”
The moment passed, awkward and unexplained.
They went back to work.
Later that evening, Katherine walked home with her bag heavy on her shoulder and her head full of thoughts.
Kristoff’s words clung to her.
You don’t belong here.
She knew he didn’t mean it kindly, but it still echoed like a truth she wasn’t ready to face.
The next day, Katherine stopped by the college office to check on her Stanford application.
Ms. Donovan smiled when she saw her. “Katherine, perfect timing. I just got confirmation—they’ve received your full packet. You’re officially in the applicant pool.”
Katherine exhaled. “Thank you.”
“Also,” Donovan added, “you might want to consider applying to other schools, just in case.”
“I have,” Katherine said. “But Stanford’s my first choice.”
“Well, your science project could help,” she said. “We’ve invited some college reps to the expo this year.”
That made her pause.
“From where?”
“Berkeley, UCLA, and… I think someone from Stanford.”
Katherine’s heart skipped.
Real stakes.
She had to win.
Or at least stand out.
Back in the library that afternoon, she told Kristoff.
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t roll his eyes.
“Then let’s make it good,” he said.
And for once, she believed him.
Their final build took shape in Kristoff’s garage. The smell of wood glue and melted plastic lingered in the air as they attached tubes to the small biodigester chamber, testing the gas output with makeshift balloons.
“Not bad,” he said, watching the balloon slowly inflate.
Katherine nodded. “Now we just have to explain it in under ten minutes and not trip over each other.”
He grinned. “Piece of cake.”
The night before the expo, she stayed up until 2 AM finalizing the trifold board and printing out info sheets. Her printer jammed twice. Her fingers were ink-stained and sore.
But it was worth it.
She believed in this project.
Even if she didn’t believe in her partner.
Not entirely.
The day of the expo, the gym buzzed with energy. Tables lined the space, each one decorated with colorful boards and blinking lights. Parents, teachers, and visiting faculty from local colleges strolled through the aisles.
Katherine wore a simple black blouse and gray slacks. Her hair was pulled back. No frills. Just focus.
Kristoff showed up ten minutes before judging in a dress shirt—untucked—and a lazy smile.
“You ready?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Just handed him his half of the cue cards.
When the judges arrived, they stood side by side and presented in tandem. Katherine explained the data; Kristoff handled the practical demo. They didn’t interrupt. They didn’t fumble.
They worked.
And when it ended, one of the judges nodded with genuine interest. “Very innovative. Well done, both of you.”
After the judging, Katherine stepped outside to breathe.
Kristoff followed a few minutes later.
“No heckling today?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin your big moment.”
“Thanks for restraining yourself.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice a little quieter. “We actually make a decent team.”
She looked at him. “We make a functional team. That’s not the same.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
There was a pause.
“Look,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been… well, kind of an ass.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Kind of?”
He laughed. “Okay, fine. A total ass.”
She crossed her arms. “And?”
“And I guess… I just wanted to say you’re not who I thought you were.”
She studied him, unsure whether to accept it or dismiss it.
“I’m still not your friend, Kristoff.”
“I know.”
“Still not impressed by your charm.”
“Figured.”
She turned to go, then looked back over her shoulder.
“But thanks for not messing it up.”
His grin returned. “Anytime, partner.”
- Writer
