Chasing Butterflies Chapter 57: Divide and Conquer (Patreon)

Geography and Algebra passed in a blur, though Olivia was pleased to see that they got their test results back in the latter. Bryce ended up doing even better than they'd hoped, prompting a small celebration right there in the class. It was more than a little satisfying to see the fruits of their labors—and not only for her.

She was snapped back to the present during Biology, just as Mr. Ambrose finished up a lecture on cell division. The bald teacher clapped his hands together enthusiastically, the sudden sound jolting more than one student.

“Right-o! Now that’s all cleared up, it’s time to see how much of my rambling you actually heard.”

Mr. Ambrose gestured to the far counter, where a dozen or so microscopes stood at attention in neat lines. “It’s lab time! I’m going to hand out sets of slides. Each one is gonna have some cells in various states of division, so you can see what it actually looks like. But this isn’t just a sightseeing trip—you’re also gonna have to draw what you see. And name the different stages you find. So I hope you took notes!”

A round of murmurs went through the room until one kid actually spoke up. “Aren’t the names on the board?”

Mr. Ambrose turned to look at the board behind him, eliciting a round of aggrieved shouts and squints as the even shinier back of his head blinded them. He turned back to the class. “Ok, so I did leave them up there. But! You still have to remember what happens in each phase. Or if you’d prefer, I can just…”

He grabbed an eraser and moved toward the words. Shouts of alarm rose up from the class. “No!”

Mr. Ambrose bellowed a hearty laugh and set the eraser back down. “Well, fine. If you’re gonna be like that. Everyone grab a microscope and see me for the slides, one per table, you’re gonna have to share today. Hop to it! And don’t go breaking my things!”

The class came to life with the sounds of chairs scooting across the ground and conversation among friends. Olivia rose as well, quickly retrieving both microscope and slides before returning to her table. Chris remained asleep beside her, even Ambrose’s antics not enough to rouse him.

She carefully laid out the slides and looked them over. Inside were two little smudged lines that didn’t look particularly impressive on their own. They were pretty standard samples of onion root tip, sliced thin, dyed, and pressed between two pieces of glass. A mainstay of any science class ever.

Olivia glanced toward her neighbor and gently nudged him awake. “Hey. We’ve got an assignment.”

The boy’s soft snoring cut off, only to be replaced with a confused grunt. “Huh? Wuh?”

“Draw and name the stages of cell division.” Olivia gestured toward the microscope. “We’ve also got slides to look at, if you’re curious.”

Though I don’t think that this little exercise will profoundly deepen anyone’s understanding, if we’re being entirely honest. Despite what Ambrose said, you don’t really need to look at the slides to draw the stages. It is pretty fun to see the difference between textbook and reality, though.

Chris nodded. “Thanks.”

He stretched his willowy limbs skyward and let the loose cuffs of his dark hoodie slide down his arms. With a final sigh, he pulled out a piece of paper and began scribbling on it, making no move toward the microscope.

“…If you want a turn, let me know,” Olivia informed him.

Chris nodded again, but continued drawing. Olivia pulled the microscope toward her. She began examining one of the slides, looking over the neatly stacked wall of plant cells with a careful eye. The pinkish-blue chromosomes mostly remained inside round nuclei, but occasionally splayed out to form firework-like messes as they entered the later stages of the process.

You know, I wonder how hard it would be to get individual slides that showcase one stage versus another. Ones where all the cells are actively in metaphase or anaphase. That way, the slides wouldn’t be completely superfluous—you could label them with letters and have the kids identify which slide corresponds to which phase. That would be a lot more interesting.

It wasn’t an easy ask. Given the variety of stages she saw scattered across the onion root cells, the divisions had to happen pretty quickly and irregularly. Synchronizing them to that extent probably wouldn’t be trivial. Or cheap.

You’d probably have to find something with a super slow cell division cycle. Or maybe something with massive cells…? That way, you could isolate one or two at a time and stick those on the slides. But that’s assuming those massive cells weren’t absolute pains to fix and prepare like this…

She sat in her musings for a few minutes longer, idly scanning the cells in the microscope and searching for representations of each step. When she’d finished, she leaned back on her stool and sighed. It had been a fun little diversion, but it was time to get the actual meat of her assignment done.

Olivia retrieved a piece of paper and pencil, resolving to keep the drawings simple in the interest of time. Yet before starting, she couldn’t help but glance over at her neighbor. The boy was asleep once again, his head pillowed in his arms with a paper lying on the desk before him. There, sketched out in quick bundles of sticks and circles, sat a complete depiction of every stage of mitosis.

She leaned over to peer at the work. From an art standpoint, the drawings certainly left something to be desired. They had quite clearly been prepared with a focus on efficiency rather than wasting any single care for aesthetics. Yet they were functionally correct. And labeled correctly, too.

Well. That was fast.

It wasn’t entirely surprising. Chris had clearly slept through the entire lecture, but by this point, Olivia was certain that he picked up the material on his own time. That would explain his test scores being so high. What was odd was that today was the first day of covering cell division. Meaning that he’d already studied the subject in advance, rather than catching up the day after. That, or he was actually a sophomore retaking the class and had decent background on all of this. Though if he could manage this much without hearing a single word from Ambrose, then how on earth would he have failed to begin with?

Shaking her head, Olivia quickly sketched out her own drawings. They formed up quickly, even though she couldn’t help but add a bit of volume and shading to the chunky chromosomes and the bulbous edges of the cells. She even decided to style them after plant cells, in keeping with the slides before her.

When she’d finished, she gingerly pulled Chris’s paper from beneath his folded arms and hopped down from the stool. Marching toward the front of the room, she saw that her other classmates hadn’t yet finished their own assignments. Some were too busy talking or looking through the microscopes at various items, like fingers or small coins. Others simply had textbooks and notebooks open beside them, referencing the pictures within as they copied them down faithfully.

Olivia handed the two papers over to Mr. Ambrose. The teacher raised his eyebrows. “Well! You certainly didn’t waste your time. Though I will say, I can’t give you double credit for finishing it twice.”

“The second one’s not me. It’s for Chris.”

Ambrose glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping boy and shook his head. “Of course. Man, I envy that kid’s ability to sleep. If I could take a nap like that… Well, it would make a lot of staff meetings a whole lot more productive.”

Olivia chuckled as the teacher accepted the papers, looking over them briefly. “Well! Can’t argue with results. Though you do have quite a bit of time left. Planning on joining your neighbor?”

“Tempting, but no. I might just draw a bit.” She’d already finished the homework she had for the day, meaning Olivia really did have nothing better to do for the moment.

Ambrose grinned. “Feel free. But I’ve got something else you might take an interest in. As a reward for finishing first.”

The teacher bent down, pulling open a drawer behind his desk. He retrieved a small plastic box like the kind that held the onion cell slides and handed it to Olivia. “My personal collection. I don’t need to tell you to be careful with these. But take a look! See if there’s anything you find interesting.”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded, thanking the teacher. Then she returned to her seat and opened the box.

What she expected was a standard run-of-the-mill assortment of microscope samples, the chintzy and cheap kind that one got in any science kit. Yet what she got was far better. 

Olivia lifted out a slide with a piece rainbow butterfly wing immobilized inside—no, not a butterfly. The hand-scrawled label on one side identified it as a “Madagascan Sunset Moth wing.” The little punched-out section of scales glittered prettily under the fluorescent lights. Sliding it under the microscope, she admired the fine layered scales that composed the colorful pattern across its surface.

…Ok, that is a little neat.

It wasn’t the only one, either. There at least two dozen samples in the box. Some were relatively standard slices of animal tissue or collections of bacteria, their typed labels suggesting that they’d been taken from other sets. But most bore handwritten labels clearly made by Ambrose. Those held the more interesting samples, such as clumps of spiderwebs or fascinatingly-shaped flowers and leaves. There was even one mold sample labeled “Tilly’s Lemon Pound Cake, 30 Days,” which raised all sorts of concerning questions.

The collection reminded her of the set of samples she'd gotten Cash for his birthday. The ones she’d ordered had left quite a bit to be desired, and as a result they’d ended up going on an adventure around town to make their own instead. These had clearly been assembled over a far longer period of time than an afternoon, however. Ambrose had clearly put work into his personal collection.

Actually… Maybe this is where I got the inspiration to do that? I don’t honestly remember at this point. I think I would remember if he’d ever shown me these before, but it was twenty years ago…

Olivia let herself look through most of the samples before pulling out her notebook to draw. When her pencil touched paper, she found herself sketching out some of the structures she’d seen, frequently looking back through the microscope to compare the details to her own work.

It’s good practice. And it never hurts to experiment a little. Right?

Olivia spent the rest of the class drawing, packing up her things just before the bell tolled. Then she returned the slides to her Biology teacher. “Thank you. They were amazing. Especially the moth wing.”

“Glad you liked them.” Mr. Ambrose grinned as he put them away. “I’ve been picking those up for… Wow, decades at this point. Oh, but don’t judge me too harshly. I’m not some kind of sadist who would let perfectly good pound cake mold over for science. My sister Tilly’s recipe is just… Well, let’s say it’s not good for much else.”

Olivia chuckled. “I’m more surprised that you didn’t throw it away earlier. Thirty days?”

“Yes, well, that particular delicacy has a rather unintentionally impressive shelf life.”

The bell rang, prompting Olivia to hurry back to her seat and collect her things. The sound finally roused Chris from his slumber. The boy blearily looked around the room and fell to the bare desk before him before he jolted in alarm.

“Ambrose has it,” Olivia preemptively explained. “I turned it in for you.”

“Huh? Oh.” The boy blinked a few times before ducking his head gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

With that, Olivia joined the throngs of students flooding Ridgeview’s campus for lunch.

***

“I didn’t see your name on the audition list for this afternoon. Perhaps I missed it?”

Olivia looked up from assembling her flute. Naomi smiled at her, a cool, gentle expression. The two stood crammed together in the practice room, the small space clearly not intended for more than one person to utilize. But they made it work.

“I wasn’t planning on trying out. I don’t see much point.”

The piccolo tilted her head. “How so?”

“Well… The result is kind of already a given, now, isn’t it?” Olivia gestured to the tall senior. “Only one of us is teaching the other, here.”

Naomi just chuckled. She shifted her own flute to one shoulder, the sleek silver lines of its polished body matching the grace of its owner. “I can’t help but disagree. I have learned quite a bit from our sessions myself.”

Olivia gave her a doubtful look. The piccolo shrugged. “Truly, though. Even if you do feel that the outcome is certain—which I would personally insist that it is not—there are more reasons to audition than that. The experience of auditioning itself is quite a valuable one. After all, you are merely a freshman. Surely you intend to try your hand for at least one solo over the next four years?”

The girl had a point. As much as practice itself was valuable, plenty of people fumbled when taken out of their comfort zones and made to present in front of an audience. She’d seen more than enough student presentations to know that was the case. Even an audience of one was more pressure than many could handle.

…Which was more than half the reason I didn’t do any solos last time around. I wasn’t intending to change that. But…

“…Fair,” she allowed. “I see your point. But even if I did want the experience, auditions are today. It’s way too late to sign up now.”

“Is it? I saw no deadline. In fact, I’m rather certain that Mrs. V would have no objections to you adding your name to the list even as the last audition finished.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Precisely. You are going to do it before the end of lunch.”

Olivia gave Naomi a look. The piccolo just let out a tinkling laugh. “…If you decide to try out, of course.”

She just shook her head. Olivia had other reasons to avoid the audition, of course. One specifically. The first name on the list: Alyssa Warnock.

The other senior couldn’t honestly expect to get the part. Even she wasn’t that delusional. Her signing up was probably just a matter of keeping up appearances, of making the statement that she was on Naomi’s level—whether or not that was actually true. But the very fact that she signed up meant that Olivia throwing her hat in the ring could be seen as a direct challenge to her as well. As a statement that she, too, was on the level of a senior.

No, not could. Would. She will definitely take offense to that.

It wasn’t that Olivia was afraid of Alyssa by any means. But given how dead set the girl was on slandering her, any slight suggestion of offense was bound to have consequences. And even if Trisha was right about them staying within the band, Olivia wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to deal with that. Besides, the fact that no other freshman had signed up made it quite certain that her decision would be noticed.

Shaking her head, she sighed. I won’t let fear of what other people might think control me. Besides, if Trisha’s right, then all of this stuff really is nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. I can handle it.

“…All right. I’ll sign up.”

It would probably be worse to let the senior have her way. Any indication that her tactics were actually working were certain to make things worse. And besides… Olivia was a little curious about how she’d do.

Naomi’s smile broadened into a grin. “Excellent. I’m pleased to hear that. Now… I suppose that means we should get started. We only have so much more time to practice, after all.”

It wasn’t long before the small room filled with the sweet, mysterious tones of the second movement’s solo. Olivia and Naomi traded back and forth, taking turns and occasionally playing together as they worked to raise their performances to the next level. Just as before, Olivia felt herself improving rapidly just from having such a great example to draw from. Though she felt the differences in their abilities even more starkly now that her decision had been made. Rather than demoralizing her, however, the skill gap just made her feel more reassured.

That means there’s no chance I actually get the solo. If there were, then auditioning would be completely off the table. But Naomi’s right, I’m playing the long game here—if I really want to get better, I could use the practice.

When they were done practicing, she scrawled her name at the bottom of the list, scampering out of the band room before the bell. Hopefully this decision didn’t result in quite as many consequences as the last few.