Institute of Technology. True story. Look it up.”
Why was I spewing all this trivia? Megan Barnett, if you ever want to have a boyfriend, you will stop talking now!
Guy was eyeing me with interest. “Really? I didn’t know that,” he said, smiling. In that moment, I knew this boy was different. This boy appreciated my intelligence. I returned the smile.
“Megan, stop with the trivia,” Tran called. He turned to Guy. “She can do that all day. Her head is full of stuff nobody needs to know.”
“I think it’s interesting.” Guy was still smiling at me.
“It won’t be so interesting if we don’t place high in the county-wide meet. Now let’s study.”
“Righteeo,” said Guy.
We took our seats at the table, and Tran grabbed the first problem from atop the stack.
Visions of a long, boring afternoon flashed through my mind.
I did not come over here to study
, I thought. I came here to further my connection with Guy. And I’m sure that’s the only reason he’s here, too. I cleared my throat.
“I’m a little parched,” I said. “I need a drink.”
“Later,” barked Tran.
I coughed. “I’m sorry, but I need something now,” I whispered, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I can hardly talk.”
“Oh, all right.” He slammed the problem down, got up and started from the room.
I looked at Guy. He looked at me. In a few moments we would be alone—together.
“Hey, Mom! Could you bring some soft drinks?” yelled Tran.
“Okay. Coming right up,” came his mother’s distant voice.
Tran returned to the table. “They’ll be here in a minute,” he said, plopping back down.
Okay, that didn’t work.
“Are these problems from last year’s competition?” I asked.
“Yes,” Tran said in an annoyed tone.
“They’ll never use last year’s problems this year. We’re studying the wrong problems.”
Tran looked at me, even more annoyed. “No, we’re not!” he growled. “It’s the theories that are important, not the problems. Now can we please get to work?”
“Didn’t you say you had the questions from the last
three
years?” I asked.
“Yeah, so?”
“We should throw out last year’s and study a different year,” I said.
Tran was glaring at me. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll do no such thing.”
“I think she’s onto something.” From out of nowhere Guy joined the fray.
We both looked at him.
“I mean, it makes sense they wouldn’t use last year’s problems this year. Right?”
“But it’s the theories, the equations that matter,” Tran said in a small, pleading voice.
“Still, if I have to study, I’d rather study stuff they might use.”
Tran looked at Guy, his shoulders slumping in defeat. I’m sure if it had been any of the other math geeks, he would have continued to argue. But Guy Matson was clearly not a geek. Tran nodded somberly. “Okay,” he said with an exasperated sigh then, he shot me the stink eye and scurried from the room.
We were alone. I was alone with Guy Matson.
I looked at him and shrugged.
“You’re right,” he said. “I mean, who wants to study stuff they know isn’t going to be on a test?”
“Exactly,” I said.
Again he smiled at me, his eyes crinkling.
All right, I thought. Let the connecting begin.
It was as if he’d read my mind, because he shot me a knowing look, opened his mouth about to say something when…
“Here we go.” Tran’s mother, Mrs. Phung, swept into the room, carrying a tray laden with soft drinks, glasses, a bowl of tortilla chips, and salsa dip. “I hear somebody’s thirsty,” she said through the hint of an accent.
“That would be me,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Help yourselves.” She set the tray down in the middle of the table and stood there.
“Thanks. We can take it from here,” I said, hoping she’d get the hint to leave. I popped the top on a soft drink.
“So, you’re Tran’s friends?” she said with a satisfied smile. “You must be special. He never has
Why was I spewing all this trivia? Megan Barnett, if you ever want to have a boyfriend, you will stop talking now!
Guy was eyeing me with interest. “Really? I didn’t know that,” he said, smiling. In that moment, I knew this boy was different. This boy appreciated my intelligence. I returned the smile.
“Megan, stop with the trivia,” Tran called. He turned to Guy. “She can do that all day. Her head is full of stuff nobody needs to know.”
“I think it’s interesting.” Guy was still smiling at me.
“It won’t be so interesting if we don’t place high in the county-wide meet. Now let’s study.”
“Righteeo,” said Guy.
We took our seats at the table, and Tran grabbed the first problem from atop the stack.
Visions of a long, boring afternoon flashed through my mind.
I did not come over here to study
, I thought. I came here to further my connection with Guy. And I’m sure that’s the only reason he’s here, too. I cleared my throat.
“I’m a little parched,” I said. “I need a drink.”
“Later,” barked Tran.
I coughed. “I’m sorry, but I need something now,” I whispered, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I can hardly talk.”
“Oh, all right.” He slammed the problem down, got up and started from the room.
I looked at Guy. He looked at me. In a few moments we would be alone—together.
“Hey, Mom! Could you bring some soft drinks?” yelled Tran.
“Okay. Coming right up,” came his mother’s distant voice.
Tran returned to the table. “They’ll be here in a minute,” he said, plopping back down.
Okay, that didn’t work.
“Are these problems from last year’s competition?” I asked.
“Yes,” Tran said in an annoyed tone.
“They’ll never use last year’s problems this year. We’re studying the wrong problems.”
Tran looked at me, even more annoyed. “No, we’re not!” he growled. “It’s the theories that are important, not the problems. Now can we please get to work?”
“Didn’t you say you had the questions from the last
three
years?” I asked.
“Yeah, so?”
“We should throw out last year’s and study a different year,” I said.
Tran was glaring at me. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll do no such thing.”
“I think she’s onto something.” From out of nowhere Guy joined the fray.
We both looked at him.
“I mean, it makes sense they wouldn’t use last year’s problems this year. Right?”
“But it’s the theories, the equations that matter,” Tran said in a small, pleading voice.
“Still, if I have to study, I’d rather study stuff they might use.”
Tran looked at Guy, his shoulders slumping in defeat. I’m sure if it had been any of the other math geeks, he would have continued to argue. But Guy Matson was clearly not a geek. Tran nodded somberly. “Okay,” he said with an exasperated sigh then, he shot me the stink eye and scurried from the room.
We were alone. I was alone with Guy Matson.
I looked at him and shrugged.
“You’re right,” he said. “I mean, who wants to study stuff they know isn’t going to be on a test?”
“Exactly,” I said.
Again he smiled at me, his eyes crinkling.
All right, I thought. Let the connecting begin.
It was as if he’d read my mind, because he shot me a knowing look, opened his mouth about to say something when…
“Here we go.” Tran’s mother, Mrs. Phung, swept into the room, carrying a tray laden with soft drinks, glasses, a bowl of tortilla chips, and salsa dip. “I hear somebody’s thirsty,” she said through the hint of an accent.
“That would be me,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Help yourselves.” She set the tray down in the middle of the table and stood there.
“Thanks. We can take it from here,” I said, hoping she’d get the hint to leave. I popped the top on a soft drink.
“So, you’re Tran’s friends?” she said with a satisfied smile. “You must be special. He never has
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