The school day , in the quiet afternoon had passed in a quiet blur—classes, hallways, the familiar rhythm of bells and footsteps—but Jade's thoughts had kept returning to the trigonometry project and the simple fact that she and Rose would now have a reason to spend time together beyond chance meetings in the library or music room.
When the final bell rang, Jade gathered her things quickly and headed to the music room at the end of the arts wing.
The door was unlocked, as it often was on Tuesdays.
She stepped inside, set her backpack down, and opened the blinds to let in the slanting light.
The room smelled faintly of polished wood and old sheet music, the same comforting scent that had begun to feel like theirs.
Rose arrived a few minutes later, carrying a small canvas bag that clinked softly with the sound of a calculator and graph paper.
She paused in the doorway, then offered a small smile when she saw Jade already there.
"Hi," Rose said quietly, closing the door behind her.
"I brought graph paper, a ruler, and my scientific calculator.
I also printed a few examples of clinometer designs from online."
Jade smiled back, feeling the familiar warmth settle in her chest.
"Perfect.
I brought my notebook for sketches and notes, and I looked up how to make a simple clinometer with a protractor, straw, and string.
We can test it on the flagpole tomorrow if the weather stays clear."
Rose crossed the room and set her bag on the small table near the piano.
She pulled out the printed pages and spread them across the surface.
They sat side by side—close enough that their elbows nearly touched, but not quite.
The space between them felt easy, familiar now.
Rose pointed to one of the diagrams.
"This one looks simple.
We tape a protractor to a piece of cardboard, attach a string with a weight for the plumb line, and sight along a straw to measure the angle of elevation.
Then we measure the distance from the base of the object to where we're standing, and use tan(θ) = opposite / adjacent to find the height."
Jade nodded slowly, following the explanation.
"That makes sense.
We can do multiple measurements from different distances to check consistency.
And maybe compare the flagpole height to the oak tree near the parking lot."
Rose's eyes lit up faintly.
"I like that.
It gives us more data points for the graph.
We can plot angle versus distance and show how the height calculation stays roughly constant."
They spent the next half hour sketching a rough plan: materials needed (protractor, straw, string, tape, measuring tape), steps for construction, safety notes (avoid looking directly at the sun), and a timeline.
Rose wrote in her neat, careful handwriting; Jade added small doodles of the clinometer and a rough sketch of the courtyard layout.
At one point Rose paused, pen hovering over the page.
"Do you think we should include photos?
Like, pictures of us taking the measurements?"
Jade considered it.
"Yeah.
It would make the poster more interesting.
We can take them with my phone—nothing fancy, just showing the setup and the sights."
Rose nodded.
"Okay.
As long as I don't have to be in too many of them."
Jade glanced at her sideways.
"You don't have to be in any if you don't want.
I can take them."
Rose looked down at the paper again, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
"Maybe one or two.
If you're in them too."
The words hung softly between them.
Jade felt that quiet flip in her chest again, but she only smiled.
"Deal."
They worked for another twenty minutes, dividing tasks: Rose would research trigonometric applications in architecture and prepare the calculations section; Jade would build the clinometer prototype tonight and test it on a tall fence near her house.
They agreed to meet again the next afternoon to assemble everything and practice the measurements.
When they had finished outlining the poster layout—title, introduction, materials, method, data table, graphs, conclusion, references—Rose began gathering her papers.
"This feels… manageable," she said quietly.
"I was worried it would be overwhelming, but with you it doesn't feel that way."
Jade packed her notebook slowly.
"Same.
It's easier when you're working with someone who… gets it."
Rose met her eyes for a moment.
"Yeah."
They walked to the door together.
The hallway outside was dimming with the late afternoon light, most students already gone.
At the exit, Rose paused.
"Text me if the clinometer works tonight?
Just so I know what adjustments we need tomorrow."
Jade nodded.
"I will.
And if you find any better clinometer designs, send them."
Rose gave a small wave as she turned toward the bus stop.
Her cardigan fluttered slightly in the breeze.
Jade watched her go, the familiar silhouette disappearing around the corner.
On the walk home, Jade felt the weight of her notebook in her bag, the project plan folded neatly inside.
It was just math homework, she reminded herself.
Just a required assignment.
But the thought of tomorrow—of meeting again, of building something together, of Rose's quiet voice saying if you're in them too—made the afternoon feel brighter than the winter sun alone could explain.
She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text:
Heading home now. Will test the clinometer tonight. Talk tomorrow?
Rose's reply came almost immediately:
Yes. Looking forward to it.
Jade slipped her phone back into her pocket and kept walking, the small smile lingering on her face long after the school gates had faded behind her.