“Okay. Well, I’ve always loved numbers, the way they fit together. I don’t know if you’re into math, but—”
He jerked his head, a vehement denial.
“Right.” She laughed. “Most people aren’t. But only because they haven’t looked closely enough to find the grace in it. It’s there, if you take the time. The way numbers weave together is so... pure. I mean, math exists outside of us. Beyond us. It’s too flawless for any human to have invented. Like... have you ever done proofs? The first time I worked through the laws of derivatives and understood how they work, I swear I saw god. Because only a perfect consciousness could’ve created somethingthatelegant out of thin air. Math is what makes our existence possible, and numbers have always made me feel like the divine, or whatever’s out there, is whispering in my ear.”
He stared. Hard.
Her cheeks stung. Maybe that had been too much. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” His voice grew even smokier. “And... this’ll sound weird, but I know that feeling exactly. Except for me, it’s words. The universe whispers to me in language.”
She breathed a laugh. “As in... books? Writing?” That would explain the hallway notebook-scribbling.
“Yeah.”
“So you and I are opposites.”
He held her eyes. “Like I told you.”
“Okay. I’m still not kicking you out.”
A divot formed between his brows. “I honestly wish you would. It’d make this whole thing a hell of a lot easier.”
A pang twanged in her chest. What kind of life must he have led, that he didn’t feel comfortable sitting and just... talking? Sharing himself? “Would you rather we got in a fight, instead? I could always tell you how wrong you are, if that’d be easier.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I do like fights.”
“Okay, great. Then you want to know what I think? Books are boring.”
“Jesus.” He gave a strained cough. “You philistine.”
Philistine?“I... don’t know what that means.”
“No? Maybe you should read more.” He paired the jibe with a smirk.
Aubrey’s blood hummed, stirred by the widening curve of that beautiful, pouty mouth. It was like he was coming to life before her eyes. “No way. Books are made of words, which were invented by people. By definition, they’re just as flawed as we are. Meanwhile, math is immaculate. Symmetrical. It existed long before humans did, and it’ll still be here long after we’re gone. Language just dies with us. It’ll vanish someday, along with its creators.”
His eyes flared. “You know... I’ve honestly never thought about it that way. But damn. You’re actually kinda... right.”
She stuck a finger in the air, victorious. “So you admit I have a point.”
“I admit you haven’t looked at words closely enough to find the grace in them. But it’s there, if you take the time.”
Warmth jolted through her. He’d beenlistening. Meanwhile, her classmates’ eyes glazed over the moment she waxed poetic about math. Even her best friend Megan had an allergic reaction to numbers.
“Books don’t have their elegance built in, though.” She pulled her legs up and crossed them. “Their grace isn’t inescapable.”
“Bullshit.” He blew a stray curl from his eyes and leaned in. “You’re telling me you’ve never read something that made you stop and just...marvel?”
“No.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Come on. You’ve never once wondered how something as enormous as ideas can be captured with something as small as words? You’ve never felt kinship with someone who died hundreds of years before you were born, because you recognized a piece of yourself in what they’d written?”
“No.” Aubrey’s breath sped. The more she protested, the more she drew him in, it seemed. “Whenever Mrs. Hayes assigns books for English, I just read the CliffsNotes.”
“Oh, god.” He buried his face in his hands and peeked through his fingers. “You do not.”
“Oh, I do.Ifthat. Sometimes, I just watch the movie.”
