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The beetle scuttled along through the loamy earth, between blades of grass and bits of dried pine needles that carpeted the outer edge of the playground, near the chain link that encompassed part of the surrounding woods. Jemma Simmons slowly lowered the thin twig toward it, moving it closer and closer until the beetle stopped and reared back to display its large pincers in a threatening pose toward the stick.
Jemma smiled and used the pencil in her other hand to jot down a short observation in her floral-cover notebook. She was moving the stick closer when a sudden, curious, “Whatcha doin’?” sounded from above where she had taken her seat on the ground, and she dropped the stick and heard a squeak escape her own mouth.
Jemma’s head snapped around to look behind her, and she saw another girl with dark brown hair, mere feet from where Jemma was sitting. She was leaning over a fallen tree behind her, arms crossed and resting against the bark, her chin resting against them. Jemma recognized her – she was new to school, and in Jemma’s grade so she was likely either seven, or Jemma’s own eight years of age. Skye was her name, Jemma remembered from the handful of seconds that the teacher in their class had introduced her before beginning their lesson just a few days back.
“Y-you scared me,” Jemma said, blushing at the noise she had made.
Skye grinned, her smile displaying a gap from a missing tooth, and another that was partially filled by one of her adult teeth already halfway in. “Sorry. I was just exploring, and then I saw you playing with that bug and writin’ stuff, so I wanted to know what you were doing.”
“It’s okay,” Jemma said, feeling her racing heart start to slow down a bit after the fright. “It’s a beetle, and I was studying it.”
“Studying it?” Skye asked, her eyes widening, and her face paling slightly. “Do we have a test on bugs they didn’t tell me about? I thought they gave me everything to catch up with the class…”
“Oh, no,” Jemma giggled, reaching up to pat the girl’s arm. “There’s no test. There are different kinds of studying.” She furrowed her brow for a moment, thinking. “You can study for a test to try to learn and remember stuff. Then there is the studying scientists do, to watch things in nature and write down what happens. I found a stag beetle like this one the other day, and I started to wonder how they see and what they react to, so I’ve been doing experiments.”
“Oh.” Skye replied, her nose scrunched up.
For a long moment, Jemma feared Skye was going to be like many of the other kids at the school and either call her a tomboy or a weirdo for playing with bugs ‘like a boy’, or tell her that science is stupid. She was used to it, and even used to some of their teachers being patronizingly amused by her, dismissive of her dream of becoming a famous scientist. It secretly made her feel like how she imagined her idol, Rosalind Franklin, felt when she became a scientist and wasn’t recognized for her accomplishments. But that little thrill that ran through her at that thought didn’t make the teasing and the dismissive attitudes toward her dreams hurt any less.
Her fear proved unfounded however when Skye grinned again, tiny dimples forming on her cheeks, and scrambled over the fallen tree to land in a crouch next to her, dirty sneakers crunching the pine needles beneath them. “That’s cool. So you’re like a scientist, huh?” Skye asked, crossing her legs and then resting her chin on her palm, staring at Jemma with interest.
“I… not yet, but I want to be when I grow up. My mum said I can be whatever I want, and I really love science.”
“That’s awesome. Phil, my… um, dad, he said almost the same thing to me. I’m not sure what I want to be though. Maybe I could be a scientist too?” She leaned closer to Jemma, their noses almost touching when Jemma turned her head to look directly at her. Skye’s brown eyes were bright and hopeful. “Can I help you?”
“Oh,” Jemma said, so surprised by the offer she didn’t even think to correct her ‘can’ to ‘may’.
Her surprise must have colored her voice, because Skye leaned back, her smile dimming a little. “I mean, I’m not great at science stuff, but if you need any help… I could just watch, too, if that’s okay.”
“No, no,” Jemma quickly replied, nearly dropping her notebook. “Helping would be great. Holding the stick and writing and watching are hard to do all at the same time. You can be my assistant!” Her mind was already flying through the ways Skye could help her, and she felt a giddy thrill rise up in her chest.
“Alright. Just tell me what to do. And, um…” Skye hesitated, awkwardly picking at a scab on her elbow with her fingers.
“Yes?”
“I think you’re pretty cool. Wanna be friends?”
Jemma felt her heart pounding so hard she thought it might explode. “I would love to,” she extended her hand toward her new friend – her first real friend since she’d started school here in America after her mother’s job had forced them to move across the Atlantic. “I’m Jemma Simmons.”
Skye eagerly grabbed her hand up with both of her own and shook it. “I’m Skye Coulson. Nice t’meet you, Jemma.” She released her grip on Jemma’s hand, and then lifted one of her own up, pinky extended.
When Jemma looked at her, confused, Skye reached further and nudged her pinky against Jemma’s. “C’mon, pinky promise.”
“I- what?”
Skye frowned for a moment. “Oh, don’t you do those? Back at my old school people did it. You put your pinkies together and swear you’ll always be friends no matter what, forever. It’s the biggest promise you can make,” she said, her expression firm and serious.
“Really?” Jemma looked down at her hand, feeling very much out of her depth – she’d seen other children doing that with their pinkies before but never understood the significance. She’d never met anyone quite like Skye, let alone had them want to be friends with her or make some forever promise. But maybe… maybe Skye wouldn’t get tired of her like so many of her schoolmates in the past had – wanting to befriend the smart girl but not able or willing to deal with what came with that. If they promised…
Jemma lifted her hand, and could feel her fingers trembling slightly as she let Skye link their pinkies together tightly. “Friends always?” She asked softly, looking up from their hands to meet Skye’s eyes.
“Bestest Friends, Jemma,” Skye answered, her eyes shining, her smile shaky, and at that moment Jemma realized this meant as much to Skye as it did to her.
Skye pulled her finger away slowly, and then looked down at Jemma’s notebook. “So, whatcha want me to do to help?”
Jemma perked up and gathered up her notebook, pencil, and the stick, her eyes searching the ground for a long minute. She handed Skye the stick, and tucked the notebook under her arm before standing and brushing loose twigs and dirt from her clothes. “You’ll move the stick toward the beetles and help me estimate distance and reaction time. But…” Jemma gestured around the woods surrounding them. “First we need to find a new beetle – mine ran away while we were talking.”
“Cool,” Skye nodded. “Where should I look?”
“We’ll look together,” Jemma said, and before she could give it another thought, she reached out and grabbed Skye’s hand in hers, and the girl let her lead them toward a spot Jemma knew they’d be able to find more.