Ezekiel’s jaw clenched at the sound of her voice—sweet and condescending, like nails on a chalkboard. "Zeze." No one else called him that, and she knew how much it grated on him. As Nell spun her smug little speech, he could feel the familiar tension creeping up his spine. Baculum Rectal Uppititis? Clever. He had to give her that, though the humor only deepened his irritation.
Her comment about taking breaks? Please. She could mask laziness under the guise of "psychological wisdom" all she wanted, but Ezekiel knew she was coasting on charm and a disturbingly high tolerance for mediocrity. But what frustrated him even more was that she wasn't mediocre. Otherwise there'd be no reason for him to worry so much about her stealing his ranking.
"Well, I guess we all have our coping mechanisms," Ezekiel muttered, his voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt as he reached for his phone, scrolling through his notifications just to keep his hands busy. He plugged it into the outlet near her seat, the same outlet she always claimed first out of spite. "Though some of us prefer to get our results through actual work rather than half-baked distractions."
He didn't bother waiting for her to respond, casually pulling out his iPad and stylus, flipping open to his notes on the research project.
Ezekiel glanced at the clock as it chimed, announcing the start of class. The professor strode in with a brisk pace, setting his papers down on the desk. He adjusted his glasses, looking over the room as the last few students settled into their seats.
"Alright, let's get started. Last week, we wrapped up our unit on ecological succession, so I trust you’ve all got a solid understanding of how environments evolve after disturbances—whether it’s a wildfire, volcanic eruption, or even human activity," the professor began, his voice calm but commanding. "I want you all to be thinking critically about how these processes affect biodiversity. Especially in terms of species adaptations and their resilience or vulnerability to…"
It was supposed to be a real-world analysis, some grand project that tested their ability to apply everything they’d learned in the past year to an original concept. Ezekiel had been playing around with ideas, something fieldwork-based, and he’d overheard the professor mention that the best projects weren’t just confined to the classroom—they were immersive, naturalistic studies.
And that’s where he had his angle.
He jotted down his rough idea: Analyzing Plant Adaptations in a Post-Industrial Environment. It would involve trips to nearby woods and abandoned areas—places where nature was reclaiming the land after years of human interference. It wasn’t just an opportunity to study plant biology, but also a way to measure biodiversity in rapidly shifting ecosystems. Something hands-on, immersive… a real project that demanded attention and effort. That, he could do.