Chapter Four - In the Library

The numbers weren't making sense.

Linda looked from book to book, equation to equation, numbers to numbers, trying furiously to find the answer in the piles of open books scattered across the table. She was pretty sure that she looked like a crazy scientist, her blonde hair in wild curls all over her head as she tried to figure out how best to solve the problem presented to her. But she didn't care; mathematics was the only subject that could drive her that up the wall with both frustration and excitement. She backed away and held her hands together, putting them in front of her lips.

She had seen another book on the way to her table that most likely could've helped her...with a swift turn, she began to backtrack toward the front.

Chris opened the library door and smiled at the elderly librarian behind the desk, who smiled back as she waved at him. As he started to stride toward the back of the room, where all of the classic works were shelved, he was intercepted by a familiar face.

"Hi, Chris." The girl from his English class -what in the world was her name?- put down a pile of books she was filing, nervously putting her hands behind her back and looking up at him from her small stance.

"Hi..." he trailed off, racking his brain to see if he had her name stored somewhere in his memory. Nothing. Damn.

"What brings you here?" She leaned against a shelf, twirling her hair with her finger.

"Oh, you know...just browsing." He looked around for a distraction, but the library was pretty much abandoned and utterly still and silent.

"Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me." She motioned to the rack of books she had yet to file. "I'll be here for awhile..."

"Yes, well...I'll just...be off then." He walked past her, but stopped again at her voice.

"Listen, I was wondering, maybe sometime when you're not busy, we could...go out and maybe get a drink or something?" He turned back around to answer her, but his words failed him. Behind her, down by the end of the shelf, a familiar blonde was pulling a book from the stack that was yet to be filed and quickly walked away, scanning through the pages and muttering to herself.

"Umm..." His eyes followed Linda until the shelf blocked his view. "You know, I'm...just...I'm sorry, I don't have time really." He looked back to the girl, whose face had fallen. "Chaucer, he really...really knows how to take up your time and...everything. Long book..." He finished weakly, clearing his throat and looking down at his feet. Maybe Michael's teases about him being awkward had some truth to them after all.

"Oh..." a bright pink colored her cheeks. "Well, that's all right. Ummm..." She turned around abruptly and went back to filing. Chris felt a slight twinge of guilt, but quickly suppressed it as he followed the general direction of where Linda found her standing over what looked like a mountain of books, crazily looking from one to the next. Now was his opportunity to talk to her...and have some fun. She didn't look like the type that was used to having fun, anyway; a little wouldn't kill her.

"What the hell am I missing?" She hissed quietly to herself.

"Hello," a deep rumble said by her ear. Turning around with her hands on her mouth to stop her scream, she saw Chris standing a few inches away, a sly playful smirk on his face.

"Oh, dear God, you scared me," she breathed out, hitting his arm to hide her shaking. Playfully, he winced and rubbed the spot where she hit him.

"My apologies," he said softly, chuckling. She took a deep breath and turned back around to read again, her racing heart thundering in her ears. "You looked as though you were about to crawl on the table."

"Well...if you were doing this, you would probably crawl on the table, too." He leaned over her shoulder to look at the calculations that littered the table.

"Exhilarating," he murmured dryly as he took a seat in a chair. "Never had to get this intense with a paper."

"How good for you." Running a hand through her hair, she sat down in her chair. "So, what brings you here on this fine morning?"

"Well, originally, it was Shakespeare. But I saw you and I thought I would just give you a little fright."

"How thoughtful of you," she said sarcastically, making him smirk.

"Actually," he said in a more serious tone. "I came over to talk to you about last night. I promised Mike I would…clear things up and try to rectify for my heartless comments."

"Oh." With a nod, Linda smiled. "You know, if I'm not mistaken, you looked as though you were enjoying making him squirm." His lips broke into a huge grin, which made him look more like a child than a man.

"I consider it a sport in a way," Chris agreed. "He usually handles it well. Years of practice has grown on him."

"Years?"

"Mike and I met in primary school, where we both had a serious dilemma." His face turned serious. "I was horrible at maths and he couldn't write a sentence to save his life. So, he did my fractions worksheet and I wrote his haiku." He shrugged. "Match made in heaven. We've been friends every since."

"Good to know he's not too caught off guard when you do things like what you did last night to him," Linda said, laughing softly.

"'It's all in good fun, he's like a brother to me," Chris said fondly. "But in all seriousness, last night, I was..." his finger tapped the table and he looked up as he thought about his words. "...out of line and I apologize. If he asks for a second date, please don't turn him down, I'll never hear the end of it." Linda snorted back a laugh.

"You're forgiven," she said, standing up to turn back to her worksheet. She hoped that Chris didn't notice her ignoring the part about Michael asking her out for a second date. He seemed pleased with her answer, and quietly pulled out a book out of his bag, opening it to the first page. A piece of paper fell out and he suddenly remembered the math set that he had yet to do (he had been using it as a bookmark). With a wince, he shut his book and opened the paper. It was empty, per usual. He was about to toss it in his bag, but he suddenly remembered Fran's words from the night before.

Linda was good at maths.

He looked up at her as she stood, her brow furrowed and her hands placed in front of her mouth again.

"You're good at maths," he said, distracting her from her thinking. "Could you help me with something?" He showed her the worksheet.

"Oh, this is easy," she sounded a tad bit relieved at the set of problems he presented to her. She took her pencil, sat down next to him and started to work out the problems. "See, it's all about ratios," she muttered, her hand moving at lightening speed all around the paper. Chris stayed stone still as she worked, trying to hide his surprise at how fast she finished the entire set.

"No wonder your friend Fran called you a genius last night," Chris said, looking at the worksheet, which was full of her large, curvy calculations.

"She didn't call me a genius," she said, leaning back in her chair. "She asked Michael if he was a genius, if I recall correctly."

"In which it took all I had not to laugh at the absurdity of the question," Chris replied drolly, which made Linda roll her eyes. "But I meant indirectly she called you that." He watched her from the corner of his eye as she stared at her lap. For a long time, she didn't respond to his statement. There was that word again, genius.

"Some would say I'm a genius," Linda finally admitted.

"But what would others say?" She looked at Chris, who was watching her closely.

"Others?"

"'Some' implies that there's another group that says something different. So what do others say?" Her face quickly showed annoyance at his question.

"Do you always do this?"

"Do what?" He sounded so innocent.

"Psychoanalyze what people say. Maybe I meant what I said, and that's all, why do you have to twist it?" He looked at her like she had sprouted two heads.

"Even if you meant exactly what you said, you're still missing what others say." It was so obvious to him, what was so hard for her to understand about that? A groan came from her lips and her head dropped in her hands.

"My God, I can see why Michael gets frustrated with you," she muttered into her palms. But she could tell Chris wasn't going to let it go. So...why not turn the tables on him? If he wanted to play games, she would indulge him. "Okay, well, you're 'others'; what would you say?" Linda leaned her head onto her hand, watching him with a smug expression.

"About you?" She nodded. Let's see if his verbal repertoire would be able to get him out of that, she thought. "I would say you're Linda." She blinked, as though she didn't hear him right.

"What?"

"Genius is a label, not a name. Labels are temporary; they can change as time goes on. But when you name something, you take possession of it. It becomes more real, more permanent. I don't see labels; I see names. At the end of the day, you're Linda and that's all." He leaned back, crossing his arms to watch her. She stared at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding, but he looked completely serious, not a trace of sarcasm on his face.

"I..." She shook her head. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Oh, and I was just starting to have fun." Chris winked, which made Linda scoff. So much for being serious. He stood to his feet. "Well, anyway, I've talked to you and now everything is okay. Have fun on your second date with Michael."

"How do you know he's going to ask me out again?"

"He really likes you," Chris said, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder. "He's a good guy, you should give him a chance...without me around to embarrass him," he added as an afterthought, making her chuckle.

"You said it yourself: he would be lost without you."

"I know, but let's not tell him that, eh?" He held out his hand. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Linda." Slowly, she took his hand and shook with him. He started back toward the door and for a split second, Linda told herself not to do it. Just leave him alone. But she turned around in her chair.

"Chris," she said to his back. "If you ever need anymore help with your maths, just come find me." He looked at her over his shoulder, her breath catching in her throat again at his thoughtful stare.

"I'll keep that in mind," he finally said with sincerity. She watched him as he walked to the door and out of the library, scoffing at the absolute absurdity of their conversation. Chris was certainly unique from every man she had ever known. He was quick on his feet with words. They came naturally to him, like numbers came naturally to her. If she didn't know better, she would've thought he designed that conversation just so he could get a rise out of her. If he did, he got what he wanted; she rose up to his verbal challenge without a second thought. But it was nice to finally get some push back from someone, to challenge her on how she saw not just everyone around her, but in essence, herself. Even if it didn't make sense to her right away.

She sat down again and started back on her homework, the thoughts of Chris immediately disappearing in the mountains of numbers again.