It was another quiet morning, and I was already knee-deep in my work. I had finally finished setting up a new model of the Andromeda Galaxy, and now I was carefully arranging the surrounding planets and stars, adjusting each one to look as close to the real thing as possible. Lost in thought, I hardly heard the faint footsteps in the hallway.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
I straightened up, my heart skipping a beat. Hardly anyone ever came by my classroom, and I'd made sure to keep it that way. Taking a breath, I opened the door just a crack—and found myself staring up at the principal, standing there with a small group of teachers, some from our school and a few unfamiliar faces.
"Good morning, Reina," the principal greeted with a warm smile. "May we come in?"
I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder at the room behind me. It was my private space, my carefully organized lab. But seeing as it was the principal—and the last thing I wanted was to seem ungrateful for the room—I nodded slowly, pushing the door open wider.
The teachers filed in, their eyes immediately scanning the walls and tables filled with my projects. My pulse quickened as I watched them take in the charts, models, and research papers I'd spread out around the room.
One of the teachers, a woman with short hair and glasses, smiled at me as she stopped in front of my Andromeda Galaxy model. "This is impressive, Reina. Did you make this all on your own?"
I nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and nervousness. "Yes. I've been working on it for a while."
"You really have transformed this classroom," the principal added, sounding genuinely impressed. "It's like stepping into a mini observatory."
I felt a small surge of pride at that, though I kept my expression neutral. "Thank you."
The teachers walked around, studying each project closely. I stayed quiet, unsure of what else to say, but it was obvious they were impressed. One of them, a science teacher from another school, picked up one of my notebooks, flipping through the pages filled with my notes and sketches.
"Reina, your work here is beyond high school level," she commented, glancing up at me with a hint of awe. "Have you considered presenting some of this at a science fair? Or perhaps applying to a science camp?"
I shook my head. "I prefer working here."
The principal smiled. "We're not here to pressure you, Reina. In fact, we wanted to check in and see how you were finding the space. We're very impressed with what you've done. This room has never been put to such good use."
I relaxed a little, though I was still cautious.
"We're actually here to see if you'd be interested in something a bit more formal," the principal continued, folding her hands. "Maybe, if you'd like, you could create a club or an after-school program. That way, students who are interested in science or astronomy could learn from you and work alongside you."
The words hit me like a shock. Me? Open a club? Work with other students in my space? The thought alone made my stomach twist.
"No, thank you," I answered almost immediately, not even thinking to soften my tone. "I work better alone."
The principal seemed slightly taken aback, but she quickly recovered, giving me a kind smile. "Alright, I understand, Reina. You've done incredible work here on your own. I just thought you might want to share your knowledge with others."
The other teachers nodded, some looking a bit disappointed, but they respected my decision. I could tell they were hoping I'd say yes, but I couldn't imagine having people constantly in and out of my sanctuary. This was my space, where I could be myself without anyone's expectations or interference.
"Well," said one of the visiting teachers with a smile, "if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us. We'd be happy to support you in any way we can."
After a few more minutes of looking around and asking questions, the teachers gradually began to make their way out. The principal was the last to leave, giving me a warm, understanding look.
"Thank you for letting us see your work, Reina. You've done an amazing job," she said, pausing at the door. "And if you ever feel ready to share this knowledge with others, we'd be thrilled to help you make that happen."
I nodded politely, but my answer was clear. As she closed the door behind her, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
Once they were gone, I sat back at my desk, letting out a slow breath. My lab was still mine, a world I didn't have to share. The idea of opening up to others might have seemed appealing to them, but I couldn't imagine it for myself—not yet, anyway. I'd worked too hard to create this space, and I wasn't ready to open it up to others, even if they might appreciate it.
"One day," I murmured to myself, staring at my Andromeda model. "But not today."
With that, I turned back to my projects, grateful for the quiet and the solitude once more.