Field Trip fever
716 Words
Ridgewood High’s announcement board was usually filled with predictable stuff — debate tryouts, exam dates, the annual bake sale. But this morning, a new flyer caught Ava’s attention like a lightning strike:
SCIENCE FAIR REPRESENTATIVES NEEDED
Top-performing students will represent Ridgewood High at the State Academic Fair. Team of two. Selected by faculty.
Ava’s heart skipped. That fair was a big deal — scholarships, national exposure, the kind of recognition she’d dreamed about.
She leaned closer, rereading the fine print. “Team of two,” she murmured. “Of course.”
“Congrats,” a voice said from behind her. “Guess we’re going to the fair.”
Ava turned and nearly groaned out loud. “No. No way.”
Ethan grinned, waving a printed email. “Mr. Carter just told me. We’re the top-scoring lab pair. We’re representing Ridgewood.”
Ava blinked. “This is a nightmare.”
“Funny,” Ethan said. “I was thinking the same thing.”
By the end of the day, the whole class knew about it. Lila found Ava in the hallway and gasped. “You and Ethan? At a state fair? Together? Overnight?”
Ava rubbed her temples. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s romantic!” Lila said, eyes sparkling.
“It’s catastrophic.”
Saturday morning came too fast. The Ridgewood bus waited at the front gate, the school’s crest shining on its side. Ethan was already there, tossing his bag into the luggage compartment, looking irritatingly calm for someone who was about to ruin her weekend.
Ava climbed aboard, clutching her notes. “Touch my project folder and I’ll end you.”
He gave a mock salute. “Wouldn’t dream of it, partner.”
They took seats opposite each other — Ethan with his headphones in, Ava pretending to read but sneaking glances through the reflection in the window. The autumn scenery rolled by: amber trees, quiet lakes, small towns fading into distance.
She told herself she wasn’t staring. She failed miserably.
The science fair was held in a grand hall in the nearby city of Larchmont. Students from across the region filled the space, buzzing with excitement and competition. Ava felt the adrenaline kick in — her comfort zone.
Ethan leaned closer, looking at their setup. “Looks good,” he said, surprisingly genuine.
“Don’t sound so shocked,” she replied.
“I’m not. Just... proud, I guess.”
Ava paused, caught off guard. He wasn’t smirking. He actually meant it.
Before she could respond, the judges approached, and both of them straightened instantly. For fifteen intense minutes, they explained their experiment — data, results, conclusions — working in perfect sync, like two halves of one thought.
When the judges walked away, Ethan looked at her and smiled softly. “You were amazing.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, blushing slightly, “I had to make up for you.”
“Admit it,” he said. “We make a good team.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Maybe… a tolerable one.”
That night, after the award ceremony (where they placed second overall — something neither of them could be mad about), the hotel lobby was quiet. Most students were already in their rooms.
Ethan and Ava sat across from each other on a couch, their laptops closed, exhaustion hanging in the air.
He was the first to speak. “You know, I used to think you hated me because I beat your score once in freshman year.”
Ava smiled faintly. “That’s definitely part of it.”
“But maybe,” he said, his tone softer now, “you just needed someone who could keep up.”
She looked up, meeting his eyes. The teasing glint was gone — replaced by something warmer. Realer.
“Maybe I did,” she admitted quietly.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the elevator dinged, breaking the spell. Ava stood quickly, heart racing. “We should, um, get some sleep.”
Ethan nodded slowly. “Right. Sleep.”
As she turned to leave, he called after her. “Ava?”
She glanced back.
“Good job today.”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “You too, Blake.”
And for the first time, it didn’t sound like an insult
- Writer
