It wasn't that Abby didn't like teaching. Introducing an eager young mind to the wonders of physics was an exhilarating experience that could renew her own love for the science. Unfortunately, in her Physics I classes at the Higgins Institute, such students were few and far between. Instead, she typically was faced with roomfuls of uninterested non-majors or pre-med students, just trying to do the bare minimum to get to get their core classes out of the way and move on to what they were actually interested in. Even finding excuses to include fire in her lab demonstrations seemed to only mildly interest their jaded, YouTube-deadened minds.
What made it all tolerable was taking on Holtzmann as her lab partner. While Holtz's job was supposed to be research only, with no classes assigned to her, Abby had started asking her to help with proctoring exams. That led to having her assist with her lab classes for demonstrations or an extra set of eyes during activities, and before long, Holtzmann was a constant presence in her classroom, a mostly quiet sidekick like the Teller to her Penn.
The extra help was especially welcome during lab. With Holtzmann prepping the supplies and keeping track of equipment, Abby was freed up to walk from table to table, addressing students' questions and making sure no one broke anything or found a way to hurt themselves.
It also meant she got to wander in and out of students' conversations. There was nothing like walking by a group of chatting students right at the end of a sentence that sounded embarrassing out of context. Hey, sometimes you had to make your own fun during tedious classes while waiting for students to trudge their way through elementary physics exercises.
"Hey, what do you think would happen if I plugged both of these in at the same time?" she heard during one lab on electricity and circuits.
Abby's ears perked up. Well, that sounded like entertaining trouble coming up. She started meandering toward the joking students' table, prepared to stop them if they were likely to get genuinely hurt.
"Do it!" another student in the group did, shoving the first boy.
"Careful," a girl in the group said. "Don't want to end up like Frankenstein."
Abby glanced where the girl was nodding. At the side of the room, Holtzmann was testing ammeters to see which of the school's ancient supply still worked.
"I heard she fried her brain building some kind of laser for the government," another girl in the group said, not quietly enough.
One of the boys snorted. "Fried it with drugs maybe. That's why she wears those stupid glasses."
"Probably burned out or got caught on the job and that's why she's working here," the other boy said.
"Whatever it was, she's messed up. They probably pity-hired her because she's 'special' or—"
"You guys about done?" Abby interrupted, voice deceptively cheerful. "I mean, I figure you must be done 'cause it doesn't sound like you're talking about the assignment."
She didn't say more. Let them panic and wonder exactly how much she heard. She relished the uncomfortable shuffle and nervousness as they muttered "No, ma'am," and got back to work.
There was no further gossiping that class, but Abby's mood stayed darkened for the rest of the period. She didn't go off on anyone, but even she could hear the steel in her voice and the shortness of her tone when answering other students' questions. When the groups finished their work, no one stayed to get additional help, each fleeing the lab room as soon as they handed in the worksheets.
As they put the equipment away, Holtz paused to glance at Abby. "Everything okay?"
Of course Holtzmann would notice. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, keeping her voice as close to normal as she could.
"You sure?" Holtz waved her fingers at her. "Because I'm picking up some noticeable upset rays from Planet Abby."
Abby hesitated. If Holtzmann hadn't heard the comments herself, there was no reason to make her aware of them. "Some of the kids were just being stupid."
Holtz cocked her head. "That seems harsh, even toward undergrads."
She wasn't going to let it go and continuing to be evasive would just make her more curious. Abby sighed. "No. I mean they were saying stupid stuff. Like hurtful stupid. Just gossiping."
Holtzmann stopped now, a rare serious look in her eyes as she clenched an ammeter like a weapon. "About you?"
"No," Abby assured her, touched again by the depth of loyalty the engineer had formed for her in just two years working together.
Holtzmann relaxed then, eyes brightening with an odd grin. "Oh, so about me then. What'd they say?"
"It doesn't matter. Look, it was just kids being jerks. I didn't even want to bother you about it."
Holtzmann just shrugged. "I've heard everything. Come on," she clapped her hands together, adjusting her stance as if she was receiving a baseball pitch. "What'd they come up with?"
Abby huffed a breath. She scratched her temple agitatedly, but finally gave in. "They were saying you were crazy because you'd electrocuted yourself working on a laser for the government." She swallowed the anger that the memory stoked again. "Then another said you were a drug burn-out. And that's why you ended up here."
Holtzmann nodded, lips pulled in an exaggerated considering expression. "Government laser's not bad. Pretty underwhelmed with the rest to be honest." She shook her head, starting to push the empty equipment cart back into the corner. "Kids were way more creative back when I was in school. Did you know I had my college roommate convinced I was an alien for over a year?"
"No," Abby said, surprised how well Holtzmann was taking this.
"Oh yeah." Holtz grinned. "Had a whole 'secret file' I made for her to stumble across. Even built a pod in the woods to take pictures for the fake FBI report. The hard part was getting a baby to put in it…"
Abby smiled fondly as Holtzmann told her of her past pranks on classmates and coworkers, relieved the incident had passed without trauma, but the anger lingered with her even after they wrapped up and went home for the night. Bullying was one of the fastest ways to get under Abby's skin. She didn't particularly care what people said about her; she had built up a pretty strong defensive layer of her own over the years. But picking on one of her loved ones cut straight through that to the carefully controlled anger that burned in her heart.
It was part of why she had befriended Er—
It was part of why she was on the path she was on to this day.
Maybe Holtzmann genuinely wasn't bothered by comments like that. Maybe she really did find everything in life genuinely amusing and nothing could crack her utter comfort with who she was. But maybe that mischievous, seemingly unshakeable grin just hit the hurt and jabs of the world, her own permeable set of armor. How much of what people said actually sank in? What words came back to her in the quiet hours of the night? And how much would it take for that façade to break?
Today wasn't the first time Abby had seen someone whisper something behind Holtzmann's back or circle their fingers around their eyes, mimicking her glasses. It was a discredit to Holtzmann to mistake her good cheer for naivety or blissful obliviousness. The quiet woman watched everything when she wasn't intensely focused on a project. She couldn't have missed all of those mocking gestures over the years. Yet they didn't seem to bother her.
They bothered Abby though.
These thoughts continued to trouble her mind as she lay in bed that night, feeling helpless to stop the everyday meanness of the world.
OOO
A few weeks later, Abby walked into the lab, still blinking a bit uncomfortably as her eyes adjusted to the new prescription her optometrist had switched her to.
"Hey, Abs," Holtzmann greeted her, apparently having gotten in well before dawn again.
"Morning, Holtz. I brought breakfast tacos if you want any," she said, setting a paper bag in the kitchenette corner of the lab as she headed to get juice out of the temperamental mini-fridge.
"When have I ever turned down tortilla-based cuisine?" Holtzmann strolled over, sorting through the foil-wrapped bundles and salsa containers. She looked over as Abby joined her, studying her friend's face. "Abby Yates, are those new glasses?" she said at last.
"Yeah. Doc said the old ones were probably starting to do more harm than good."
"Hm." Holtz nodded. "I like your choice of frames."
Abby reached up, touching the clear yellow plastic of the arms. "Thanks. Well, you know…" She smiled at Holtzmann over the bag. "It's my favorite color."
Holtz's grin stretched wider at that. Her eyes softened slightly before she flicked her own tinted lenses back down over them. "Well may I just say it looks great on you."
"Thank you." Abby gave a little head bow of acknowledgment, which also hid her satisfied pleasure that her gesture of solidarity had the intended effect.
"Hey," Holtzmann beckoned her to follow with her hand that wasn't holding three tacos, "I've got something fun I'm brewing up here."
She led them over to a small tabletop ramp they used for a lab on velocity and momentum. "So I've been putzing around with electromagnetic fields and I'm pretty sure with this rig and a micro remote I can convince the students I'm moving the ball uphill with my mind. Ultimate goal is to get it to float off the table, but we can work up to that for future semesters. You in?"
A wicked streak of humor slithered through Abby's mind. "I am absolutely in. What do you need me to do?"
"I've got the tech part under control, but I figure a lot of how it sells will come down to your reaction."
"Right," she nodded, settling into the easy energy of their partnership. "What do you think? Should I be just as shocked as they are or more like this is something you do every day?"
"Oh, totally blasé. We just want to sow a bit of mystery in their minds so when I shoot lightning out of my fingers at finals, it has some continuity. Now, for this part…"