The courtyard was still faintly buzzing when the bell echoed over the campus, splitting the golden afternoon moment in half. The four jolted a bit, glancing quickly at one another.
"Break's over," Vinci muttered, sighing while shoving his sketchpad into his bag. "Time to return to the mortal realm," Hawking chuckled, smirking slightly as they turned to walk back toward the main building.
They walked together, shoulder to shoulder, their minds entrenched in the warmth of their earlier revelations. As they approached the doorstep to their classroom, suddenly a shadow blocked their way.
Maria.
She stood right at the door with arms folded across her chest, a sly smirk twisting at the corner of her lips, her eyes sliding over each of them slowly, like a cat playing with a line of helpless mice. "Look at the geniuses," she drawled, tapping her foot in slow rhythm. "Planning your little magic show? Or have you finally invented a way to make yourselves less pathetic?"
None of them answered. Vinci gave a soft scoff and brushed past her first with his head held high, whereas Hawking came behind him with an expression that remained calm but keen. Curie kept her chin lifted, her gaze straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge Maria at all.
Einstein was last in. Silent. Stoic.
Maria's smile stretched widely as she stepped forward again to halt him for just a brief moment. The moment he sat, she slapped down a bright yellow sticky note on his desk without so much as a word.
"Message for you, Mr. Einstein," she sang sweetly, yet her voice had an edge to it, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. She spun on her heel and sashayed back to her seat, as if having issued a royal command. Einstein stared at the note for a moment, a deep furrow coming to his brows. Slowly, he peeled the note off and read the scrabbled handwriting.
"Stay tuned to see us making Eliza's life hell."
His eyes stayed glued on the words. His surroundings suddenly dimmed as the buzz of unease clung thickly in the air.
He looked up to see Vinci watching him, a silent question screaming in his eyes. Hawking leaned a bit forward, something was off. Curie had stopped writing, eyebrows raised in immediate worry.
Vinci mouthed, "What's wrong?"
Einstein carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. He raised his eyes toward them, steady, and said very quietly, just above a whisper, "Maria's planning something… against Eliza."
Vinci's jaw tight set, his eyes bright with fierce protectiveness. Hawking's hands clenched into fists under the desk, his strategic mind already ablaze.
Curie's grip tightened around her pen, with her heartbeat pounding in her ear.
Einstein's eyes softened for that brief moment meeting hers, wordlessly vowing: We'll protect her. No matter what.
Right then, the door swung open, and the teacher marched in, ordering all to class. Screeching chairs, fading chatter, and madly flipping notebooks marked the entrance of the professor. But within the four geniuses, a new vow had been forged in silence, stronger than any formula or any invention or any lecture they would ever hear.
The four stood by each other through thick and thin.
But nothing happened during the dragging afternoon hours of lessons. Maria and their friends sat quietly — too quietly. They did not giggle. They did not whisper. They did not even cast an over-the-shoulder glance with their everyday supercilious smirk. It was as if they had turned to stone, cold and incomprehensible.
Curie shot glances back from time to time, expecting them to jump at any moment. Vinci needed to bounce his knee behind the desk as he awaited an instant call to action. Hawking tapped his fountain pen against his notebook deliberately, his mind already fast-forwarding a dozen traps and corresponding consequences.
But no, Maria did nothing.
Finally, when the final bell rang, carrying down the hallway, students zipped their bags and began exiting. The air was filled with laughs and chatter as backpacks swung onto shoulders and feet hastened toward the door. Right behind them went Maria and her gang. Hidden in the crowd, they slipped away, vacant, and unreadable. No jabs. No whispered threats. Nothing at all.
"That right there's... weird," Vinci muttered, camouflaging tension with the shrug of his shoulder.
"They are waiting for something." Hawking vigilantly scrutinized the corridor ahead, his gaze shifting, as if he were reading a chessboard mid-game. Curie stashed her books into her chest. "Feels like the calm before a storm," she whispered.
Einstein kept quiet, walking just behind. His gaze was sharp, brilliantly brightened with thoughts, almost glowing with a secret of some kind. When they stepped out into the courtyard, he finally spoke, his voice low and hushed so that it carried only to them.
"Oh, I already have a plan," he said, nonchalantly putting his hands in his pockets. "Maria thinks she's erratic, but she follows some predictability. She won't expect what I am putting in place." Curie's eyes opened wide. "What plan? Tell us now!" she insisted. Einstein smiled back at her, a hint of a secretive smile dancing on his lips. He lightly tapped his temple, as if implying: trust me.
"Wait for it," he said, his eyes glinting with that spark of mischief that only ever showed up when something big was about to happen.
The others exchanged glances, equally fast and excited but filled with nervousness. They all leaned in closer for an earful, but Einstein simply shook his head a little and moved on, stepping as calm as ever in front of them. The breeze rippled through the trees on campus, ruffling the leaves, whispering secrets.
The four geniuses trailed behind him out of the gates into the courtyard as the sun began to slide down the the sky and the school gates swung open wide for dismissal, prepared for whatever came next.