Microscopium

“Hey, Mr. Wizard!” came the call from the doorway. “Everyone else is long gone.”
     Nicholas looked up slowly from his slides to the empty classroom, as if hoping the girl might be wrong.
     “You know,” she said. “No matter how much extra work you do, it couldn’t get much worse than having Mr. Chiron trumpet that perfect midterm of yours.”
     “Actually, this is a personal project,” said the aspiring teenage biologist, impressing no one. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”
     “They don’t have anything I want . . . So, Nick, are you going to the party tonight?”
     Speaking of experiments in teenage biology.