As I sat in the corner of our classroom, flipping through my notes on Lyra, I felt a presence lingering at the edge of my desk. I glanced up, and there stood Zichen, his expression unreadable yet somehow tinged with a hint of amusement.
"Taryn," he started, leaning against the desk next to me. "You forgot."
I blinked, momentarily confused. "Forgot what?"
"Our meeting at the library yesterday," he clarified, crossing his arms.
"We were supposed to go over our ideas for the group project. But instead, you buried yourself in constellations. I didn't interrupt—you seemed...focused."
Guilt prickled at me. "Oh no, Zichen, I'm so sorry. Things have been…a little complicated."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me with those sharp, discerning eyes of his.
"Complicated enough to skip a meal and run yourself ragged?"
I opened my mouth to reply but stopped, not knowing where to begin.
How could I explain yesterday and the morning's chaos? The argument with Jia over something as trivial as borrowing my headphones, only for it to spiral into accusations about who took what from whom.
Devon, ever the peacemaker, butted in with his usual charm, which only seemed to make things worse.
And then, as if on cue, my grandparents had walked in, shaking their heads and once again comparing us.
"Taryn, why can't you be more like Jia? She's so polite and respectful," my grandfather had said with a disapproving glance.
"And Devon," my grandmother added. "He's so helpful around the house. You could learn a thing or two from them."
I had swallowed my retorts and left the house before my brain will boil. But the words lingered, hanging over me like a storm cloud.
Even now, in the classroom, they whispered in the back of my mind.
"Taryn?" Zichen's voice pulled me back to the present.
I looked at him, considering if I go ahead and tell him or not. Zichen and I weren't close, but there was a steadiness about him that made me feel like he'd listen without judgment.
"I'm just…dealing with some stuff at home," I admitted finally. "It's nothing major, just family things. And I guess I'm trying to distract myself with school."
He nodded slowly. "School can be a good distraction, but it's not a solution."
A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "You sound like Baihe."
"She's not wrong," he said with a shrug.
"Look, I get it. Family can be...complicated. But you've got to take care of yourself, too."
His words hung in the air between us, before I could respond, the classroom door swung open, and Ms. Lu walked in with her usual commanding presence. Her record book clutched in one hand and a stack of papers balanced in the other.
"Good morning, everyone," she said briskly as the room settled into silence.
Her eyes scanned the class before landing on me and Zichen. "Ah, Taryn and Zichen. Perfect timing."
Zichen straightened beside me as Ms. Lu approached. I had a sinking feeling that her "perfect timing" meant she had plans for us.
Since you're both working on constellations," Ms. Lu began, "why don't you share some of your findings? Let's start with history—Taryn, what can you tell us about the origins of Lyra in Greek mythology?"
I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of the class's eyes on me. "Lyra is tied to the story of Orpheus, the legendary musician and poet. It's said that Orpheus's music was so powerful, it could charm animals, move trees, and even stop rivers in their flow. When he died, his lyre was placed in the sky by the gods as a tribute to his talent and his tragic love story with Eurydice."
Ms. Lu nodded approvingly.
"Good. Now, Zichen, what about the theories surrounding Lyra's significance in other cultures?"
Zichen didn't miss a beat.
"In Chinese astronomy, Lyra is part of a different story entirely. It's associated with the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd—a tale of star-crossed lovers who can only meet once a year. Lyra's brightest star, Vega, represents the Weaver Girl, while another constellation, Aquila, represents the Cowherd. Together with the Milky Way, they form one of the most enduring love stories in Chinese mythology."
Ms. Lu's eyebrows lifted in acknowledgment.
"Excellent. Now, let's dive into the scientific perspective. Taryn, what role has Lyra played in astronomical theories and navigation?"
I drew a deep breath, my confidence growing slightly. "Lyra has been a key player in various scientific discoveries.
Vega, its brightest star, was the first star to be photographed and one of the first whose spectrum was analyzed. It's also significant in navigation—many ancient travelers used Lyra as a guide, relying on its consistent position in the northern sky."
Ms. Lu turned her attention to Zichen.
"Anything to add?"
He nodded. "Yes, Vega is also central to our understanding of stellar evolution. It's often used as a reference point for brightness in the magnitude scale.Additionally, Lyra houses one of the most studied planetary nebulae, the Ring Nebula, which has provided valuable insights into the life cycle of stars."
Ms. Lu's smile widened—a rare sight. "Impressive. You two seem to have done your homework, let's see how far did you both go in reading."
As Ms. Lu moved on to quiz another pair of students, Zichen leaned toward me and whispered, "I think we aced that."
I couldn't help but smile back, a small bubble of warmth breaking through the cloud of my worries. "Yeah, I think we did."
She adjusted her glasses and addressed the class again.
"Since Taryn and Zichen seem well-prepared, let's push their limits a bit further."
She turned her attention directly to us, her tone challenging.
"Tell us about the constellation Cygnus. What have you learned about its mythology and scientific significance?"
I exchanged a quick glance with Zichen, feeling the pressure mount. Cygnus—the Swan—wasn't part of my original research, but I knew a bit about it from my readings.
"Cygnus," I began, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt, "is a constellation that represents a swan in mythology. In Greek legend, Cygnus is often connected to the story of Phaethon, the son of Helios, the sun god. Phaethon lost control of his father's chariot and was struck down by Zeus to prevent a catastrophe. Cygnus, his close friend, mourned him deeply and was transformed into a swan as he dove into the river to retrieve Phaethon's body."
Ms. Lu nodded but didn't let up. "And scientifically?"
I hesitated, searching my memory for what I'd read. Zichen stepped in seamlessly, his voice confident.
"Cygnus plays an important role in astronomy, too," he said. "It contains the famous Cygnus X-1, one of the first identified black holes. This discovery was crucial for advancing our understanding of stellar remnants and gravitational forces. Cygnus also includes Deneb, one of the brightest stars in the sky, which serves as a cornerstone of the Summer Triangle—a prominent feature in the northern hemisphere's night sky."
I couldn't help but feel impressed by his knowledge.
Ms. Lu's expression softened slightly, though her challenging demeanor remained.
"Excellent points. But what about its cultural significance outside of Greek mythology?" she pressed.
I jumped in this time.
"Cygnus is referenced in several cultures, not just Greek. In Chinese astronomy, it's linked to the legend of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl—the same tale connected to Lyra. The Milky Way separates them, with Deneb acting as a bridge between the two lovers. It's also been used as a navigation aid for travelers across centuries."
Ms. Lu finally smiled—a rare sight. "Well done, both of you. You've been reading widely. Keep this level of engagement throughout the semester, and I think you'll both do very well."
Zichen leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly as she continued to quiz another group. "That was...intense."
I couldn't help but laugh, relief washing over me.
"You did great. I owe you for stepping in about Cygnus X-1—I blanked on that."
"You handled the mythology part like a pro," he said with a grin.
"I think we make a good team."