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Chapter 3


I kept telling myself I could do this.

So those few moments after class with her had been hell and now I had to endure a few hours. Big deal. I could handle it. Handle's my middle name. (Well, actually it's Edward, but that's not relevant, is it?)

So there I was. Sitting at my desk with the text book open in front of me and not even looking at it. No, I was staring at the clock. 5:04. She was late. I think she was trying to torture me. I just wanted to get it over with already. Hell, I wanted to get the whole semester over with. Get her out of my class, out of my head, and…other places.

If she made me late for dinner, Pop was gonna kill me.

Wow, I sounded like I was back in high school. Let him wait. It wasn't gonna kill him. Maybe if he would actually meet some of the women we set him up with (or find some of his own) he would have more interesting dinner plans than sitting around with me and Don. It was kind of sad really. Three grown men with no company but each other. And the greatest possibility for a relationship with the fairer sex lay with the sixty-year-old.

I stared at the multiple chalkboards lined with equations. I needed a life.

"Professor?"

I nearly jumped, but I caught myself. "Grace," I greeted her, the title slipping out before I was aware of it. Though the use of her first name seemed to actually relax her a bit. She smiled and sat down across from me, setting her bag down beside her chair and pulling out a spiral notebook.

We had been working for about thirty or thirty-five minutes when I noticed her staring at me whenever I would gaze at the book or papers for an extended period of time. I wasn't really sure how to address it, so I simply looked up at her and asked: "Is something wrong?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I was actually wondering the same thing." My brow must have furrowed at this because she went on. "You've been…I don't know, different lately. Just these last few sessions and classes. It's like…" There was an obvious pause here, "I annoy you or something."

Great. She thought she annoyed me. Far from it.

It took me a minute to collect myself enough for an answer. "You don't annoy me," was all I managed.

"Would you actually tell me if I did though?"

I actually chuckled at this comment, enticing a laugh from her as well. "Probably not." I set my pen down and leaned over the desk a little, more comfortable now that the situation was as out in the open as it could be. "Can I ask you something?" Her laugh dissipated and she nodded. "Why don't you like math?"

"I never said I didn't. I'm just…no good at it."

I arched an eyebrow. "But you don't, do you?"

She laughed again. "No. I hate it."

"So. Why?"

"Well, why do you like it?" she countered. "Because you are good at it, right?"

"Not really, no." I shook my head. "I mean…sure, that helps, but uh…that's not why I like it."

"So why do you?"

I thought about it. Why indeed? I had never really considered it. Math was just…there. I don't know. It was me. What was I without math?

"It makes sense," I finally said. "There's always an answer." I looked up at her again and gave her a small smile. "That'd be nice out of life, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"So what do you like?" I inquired.

"Oh, I'm an English Lit. Major," she informed me, giggling again. "About as far from this as you can get." She gestured to the volumes surrounding us.

"English Lit.?" I echoed. "Really?"

She nodded. "Why so surprised?"

"I would have pegged you in Communications or something. PR or business."

"Hmm." She sat back in her chair and the corners of her mouth twitched in an amused smile. "So I'm not intellectual enough for literature?"

I raised my hands in mock defense. "You assume I think business requires no brains. Maybe I just didn't picture you enough of a romantic."

"I wouldn't say that's why I chose it."

"So why?"

"Because the right combination of words can touch us in ways that no other medium can."

I sat back in my chair as she had. "Wow. You didn't even have to think about it."

"Well, in all fairness, I think I must tell you, they asked me in my admissions essay, so I was sort of prepared."

We both began laughing again at this and it was here that I caught a glimpse of the clock again. It was already six. I had a half hour. "I'm sorry, Grace, I'm wasting your time," I apologized. "I'm supposed to be tutoring you."

She continued smiling at me. "I don't mind Professor."

I smiled back, flipping the page of the text. "Charlie," I corrected her.


At this point, my knowledge of the university he teaches at is that it is an anonymous California college, so I wasn't sure if it specialized in math. So I made Grace an English Lit. Major cuz I figured it'd balance out Charlie a bit. For those who were wondering, Alan and Don will be in the next chapter!