Taylor prodded Eliza's arm as they waited for science class to start. "Do you really not want to be my friend anymore?" she asked.
Jack and his friends stared at them from the back of the room. Their laughter was uglier than his boar's snorting.
Eliza unzipped her backpack and pretended to search for something. "It's complicated," she muttered.
"But we've been friends since kindergarten! I know my flies aren't that great, but I'm still the same person."
"That's not how they see it." Eliza cast a quick glance behind her, shrinking under the other kids' glares. Taylor's flies tried to block them out, but they couldn't erase their classmates' obvious opinion about the bugs. "Now that you've changed, they'll think I'm changing for the worse too if I don't stay away."
"Why do you care what they think?" Taylor crossed her arms. "Anna says jerks aren't worth listening to."
"You're still hanging out with her and that guy with the termites?" She winced. "You know you're making things worse."
"How does spending time with my friends make things worse? If you'd give them a chance, you'd see how awesome they are for sure."
Eliza pulled out her notebook and buried herself in her notes on the latest textbook chapter. "Drop it. If they're really that great, then you don't need me."
"But—"
"Quit bugging me!"
Taylor cringed as if she'd been struck.
Eliza took a shaky breath as the rest of the class snickered. Her hummingbirds formed a trembling wall between them. "Please leave me alone."
A familiar chattering noise filled the room as Mr. Woods and his ferrets finally arrived. "Sorry about the delay, everyone. I had to check on some stuff I ordered for the 8th graders. They're dissecting sharks next week!"
"Maybe he'll let your pig eat the leftovers," one of the boys muttered to Jack, only to receive a thump on the arm.
"For the tenth time, he's a boar, and he's got much better taste than that. Those flies on the other hand..."
Mr. Woods cleared his throat. "Alright folks, settle down. I've got a question for you. If you were part of a group of animals and another member of the group got hurt, what would you do?"
Nobody raised their hand. Taylor kept trying to meet Eliza's gaze, but her former friend wouldn't look her in the eye.
"Come on, guys. There's no wrong answer to this one." Mr. Woods paced from a poster of a pony saying "No horseplay in the lab!" to the fish tank at the other end of the room. "You're a meerkat. You're out there minding your own business, digging for grubs, when BOOM!" Taylor leaped halfway out of her seat as Mr. Woods slapped his desk. "The meerkat next to you gets bitten by a snake."
Mr. Woods smirked as the class leaned forward in anticipation. He had them now.
"He manages to escape, thank goodness, but now his leg's badly injured and he's in too much pain to forage for himself. So, my little meerkats, what do you do?"
"Drive him away!" Jack yelled. "It's not my fault that idiot went and got himself bit. If he's that stupid, I wouldn't want him attracting more predators to me."
"Would anybody like to raise their hand," Mr. Woods said emphatically, "and give me another answer?"
Eliza obliged. "I don't think I'd drive him away, but I don't think I'd do much for him either." She rubbed the back of her head. "I mean, why would I? They should be able to take care of themself. I would feel bad for him though. A snakebite's gotta hurt."
"Any counterarguments? Things are looking mighty grim for our injured meerkat friend."
"I'd help him get food," Taylor said. "He might not be able to dig, but maybe he could look out for hawks and stuff while I take care of him."
"What good would that do you though?" Eliza asked. "It doesn't seem fair. You'd be working twice as hard, and he'd only have to stare at the sky."
"He'd be my friend, and he'd look out for me. Unlike some people."
Mr. Woods's eyes widened. "Okay, I think that's enough of that thought experiment for now. Let's direct our attention to—"
"You know what?" Eliza said as her face turned bright red. "I take it back. If the injured meerkat is going to act like that, then she can go get bitten by another snake for all I care! She's not my problem."
"Fine! She'll do perfectly fine with her real friends who aren't terrible and mean."
The two clamped their hands over their ears as the agitated cries of Mr. Woods's ferrets broke through their argument. "That's enough. I'm going to speak with both of you after class, but for now I need everybody to focus on the topic at hand."
After Mr. Woods spent the rest of class explaining how altruism benefits animals that live in groups, the bell rang. The other kids fled within moments, leaving Taylor and Eliza alone with the teacher.
"I hardly expect everyone to get along all the time. In fact, I'd be concerned if even the closest friends didn't argue with each other every now and again. However, I need to ask you to please avoid disrupting class."
"Sorry," Taylor said.
"I won't let it happen again," said Eliza.
"Good. I'm going to let you both off with a warning this time, but please try to keep things civil from now on. And Taylor, would you please stay for a moment?"
Eliza muttered another apology under her breath and cast a pitying look in Taylor's direction before grabbing her things and leaving with her hummingbirds nested in her hair.
Taylor cast her eyes to her shoes. "Sorry I lost it like that."
"I'm sorry things seem to have been hard for you lately. Would you like to talk about what's been bothering you?"
"It's nothing important." A mask of insects hovered in front of her mouth and warned her not to burden him with her problems.
"Sure it's important. Anything that bothers you is important. I won't make you tell me if you don't want to, but I need you to know I'm here for you if you need help."
Taylor waved the flies away. "Ever since I got my flies, people have been super mean to me. Eliza tried to be nice at first, but you saw what she thinks of me now."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like me to say something to them?" His ferrets squeaked sharply as if they wanted to march straight to those bullies and bite their toes until they apologized.
"I don't think that would do any good, but thanks." She ran a hand through her hair as if taming it would tame her emotions too. "You've always said people's companions reflect who they are in some way. Do you think having something as worthless as flies means I'm worthless too?"
"No way! First off, you are a wonderful young lady who I'm happy to have as my student. Second, flies play a vital role in the ecosystem. Anyone who tells you they, and especially you, shouldn't be valued is wrong, period. And lastly, there's no telling what part of you they reflect."
"You're just trying to cheer me up."
"Do I smell like dirty socks to you?"
"What?" Taylor asked as the ferrets chirped in indignation.
"Do I smell like dirty socks to you?" Mr. Woods asked with a smirk. "Because if our animals reflect the worst parts of us, then I must smell as bad as Ichabod and Mable do."
"No, you definitely don't." His clothes did carry a hint of the ferrets' potent smell, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
"Then you shouldn't automatically assume the worst of yourself simply because flies happen to like you."
"Okay, but what are flies good for? I get what you mean about them having a place in the ecosystem, but they're still pests. The only thing they seem to be good at is finding food."
"Tell you what, how'd you like to help me with an experiment after school? Not today, but once you get your parents' permission. I've been working on something that both you and your flies could help with, if you're interested."
Taylor's flies buzzed with excitement as she agreed to talk with her parents about it. Mr. Woods's experiments were legendary. He'd identified a new species of bacteria in the bayou, snuck a dozen frogs into Ms. Watson's class to see people's instinctive reactions to them (and because he thought it would be funny, he'd admitted after coaxing the last one out from under the screaming teacher's desk), and raised a two-headed turtle. What amazing experiment could he have planned for her?