The computer lab hummed with fluorescent light. Ivanna's fingers drummed the keys as she pulled up a video of seedlings bending toward a window.
She saved the file, grabbed her notebook, and marched to her desk where a row of small cups sat waiting. The fluorescent lights buzzed above her as she uncapped her pen.
Back in the classroom, Ivanna arranged her cups on the display table — one with soil, one without, one with water, one with a drop of vinegar. She wrote labels with steady hands, then stepped back and tapped her chin.
The second cup looked identical to the first, and she frowned. She swapped their positions before writing again, crossing out the old label with a sharp line.
Days passed. Ivanna checked her cups every morning before school and every afternoon after, sketching what she saw in her notebook.
The vinegar cup sprouted a pale curling shoot that leaned oddly toward the radiators. She leaned closer, her nose almost touching the glass.
The shoot twitched once, as if it noticed her looking. She froze, pencil hovering over the page.
Science fair day arrived. Ivanna set up her tray of cups beneath the bright gym lights while other students wheel in volcanoes and clouds of baking soda.
She pointed to her label and said, 'This one grows toward heat.' A boy in a striped shirt snorted and turned away.
Then the vinegar shoot shivered, pivoted slowly, and pointed directly at the warm overhead lamp. The room went quiet.
Ivanna's display won blue ribbon. She stood beside it with her certificate, her eyes bright.
She reached out and tapped the glass gently. The shoot seemed to sway in reply.