“Perhaps Delaney and I can source the remaining materials while you and Lionel root through the unresolved formulas?” William offers.
Lionel nods enthusiastically, and I’m suddenly embarrassed. This is the exact reason teachers separated us. We could never agree.
Sumner averts his gaze and starts toward the whiteboard as Lionel grabs a copy ofNumbers, Physics, and Youfrom Danforth’s shelf. He produces a graphing calculator from his bag, smiling apologetically as he trails behind Sumner.
William drops into the desk beside me and consults the academic paper I printed. I read it carefully, combing through for obvious answers. This isn’t an exact blueprint, and so much of the article is theory, which means the math will have to inform our direction.
Not that I will admit this to Sumner.
We’ll need to weld certain metals, but how much remains a mystery. We also have to read between the lines to guess which parts we’ll need, and William writes down what we can source ourselves. Ivernia must have certain items—table clamps and neodymium magnets and copper wiring—but we’re going to have to hunt down hyper-specific tools.
The Expo marker’s felt tip squeaks from across the room as Lionel and Sumner consult each other in overlapping voices. Sumner occasionally writes an equation on the board, studies it, then furiously wipes it away. The sides of his hands are stained in dry-erase residue.
“Don’t be discouraged,” William reassures me in a hushed voice. “We’ve done quite a bit.”
He’s right. I draw in a breath, my dad’s mantra running through my mind.Grounded feet. Open mind. Maintain curiosity.
It’s approaching eight, which means we’re going to have to get out of here or risk earning a late curfew demerit. I wish the progress looked more significant.
“Everything I know is rooted in logic that can be solved,”Sumner mutters when he and Lionel rejoin us. “I’m not used to theorizing. Feels like a waste of time.”
I frown. “You’re saying the thing my dad dedicated his life to was a waste of time?”
“No—sorry. That’s not what I meant.” He tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m just used to plugging in numbers to a formula someone’s already invented.”
“And experimentation and theorizing are what got them there.”
“I think,” Lionel jumps in, “it all works congruently, right?”
My mouth flattens into a firm line, but I nod in acquiescence. As if to offer a partial truce, Sumner begins helping me repack the items and then stores the box in an empty cabinet. William reveals our progress in a chipper tone and seems positive we’ll find solutions over time. All the while, I try not to feel like we’re in over our heads.
Lionel’s mid-conversation with William, showing him something on his Switch as they start for the door, but Sumner hangs back while I grab my bag.
“I need you to know there’s a high statistical likelihood that we don’t figure this out.” His voice is low, but gentle. “But I’ll try.”
I swallow. “Thank you.”
Sumner averts his gaze to the back of the room. His mouth twists in contemplation. It’s an expression I know well.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Sumner rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. “I think I’m tired.”
We’re silent as we leave the classroom and step into the hallway. Lionel laughs at something William says up ahead, and we’re slow to follow them outside.
“We can keep meeting on Fridays.” He uses his back to push open the door. “Or weekends when I’m not with crew.”
Clouds overtake the sky. There’s a balmy scent like gathering moisture lingering in the air.
“I still can’t believe you joined.”
In the moonlight, his eyes are a shade of dark, muted blue. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s unlike you, I guess.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “My three best friends graduated last year and now? They barely respond to the group chat,” he blurts. “My mom won’t talk to me unless it’s through my brother, and my dad hasn’t bothered since I was fourteen. So, yeah, maybe I decided to change it up this year, so I didn’t have to live like a lonely shut-in for the next nine months.”
Guilt streams through my chest. The weight of transition falls on Sumner too. Anytime I was upset over a test score or felt the teeniest bit homesick, I’d go find Jared. No one knows you better than family, at least in my experience. Jared never expelled me from his presence or made me feel insignificant. Even when he was hanging out with his friends, he’d pause to hear me out. It’d hurtif my core group of friends stopped responding to my messages, let alone my family.
