challenge. Your choice.”
I scan the area, checking the choices. “How are you with heights?”
She bites her lip for a second and that’s the only answer I need. I slip her hand into mine and squeeze it. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the entire time. And these rides were designed to work with physics, not against it. Nothing bad will happen.”
“Unless I lose my lunch.”
“And if you do, it’s not the end of the world, right?”
She looks at me like I’m nuts but eventually nods. “Okay, let’s do it.”
We walk to the tower ride and join the long line. “You said you took biomechanics last year. Did you enjoy it?” I ask.
The smile from earlier slips back on her face. “I did. I wasn’t sure I would. Math and I aren’t actually besties, so I avoided physics in high school. But I managed to pull off a B in biomechanics.” The smile brightens. “I wouldn’t mind learning more physics. From you.”
“Like what?”
She thinks for a second, her focus on the ride in front of us. The people in the seats around the base suddenly shoot up, screaming, to the top of the tower. They stop, free fall, then bounce up again.
She tears her attention away from the ride, her face paler. “How do Santa’s reindeer fly?” she asks, her face without a hint of humor.
With an equally straight face, I reply, “While the rides here have to abide by the laws of physics as we know them, Santa’s reindeer are able to ignore those laws since they are…they are magical.”
“I knew it!” She laughs. “Okay, tell me something that has to do with physics and hockey.”
A light in my chest flickers on. A light that had burned out after the accident. She remembers what I told her the other day. Which makes her nothing like the puck bunnies who are only interested in fucking me so they can tell their friends that they screwed a NHL hockey player. They never ask anything about me and I never volunteer anything, either. Sofia’s different. She’s interested in the real me and nothing less.
“What do you know about impulse?” I ask.
She bits her lip, again, as she thinks. “Not much. It has to do with momentum.”
“That’s right. It’s based on Newton’s second law of motion. It’s the force applied for a given amount of time. The greater the force, the greater the impulse. If you have two hockey players charging down the ice toward their respective pucks during a drill, the one who hits the puck the hardest will send his puck traveling further, assuming the time of contact between the puck and the stick is the same between the two players.”
“And if one player screws up on the follow through,” she says, “the contact time is less, and the puck won’t go as far even if the force was the same as with the other player?”
The warmth inside me spreads at how she’s listening to what I’m saying. “Exactly. You got it.”
She asks me a few more questions as we wait. We’re almost near the front of the line when she sucks in a sharp breath. We’re in the next group to go on the ride. The physics Q&A isn’t enough to relax her.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I tell her.
She watches as the people in the seats jerk upwards. The muscles in her shoulders visibly tighten. “No, I’m good.”
“Let’s play a game.”
She pulls her attention from the ride. “What kind of game?”
“One person makes a statement about the other person, and if it’s false, the other person has to tell the truth or do a dare.” I used to play this game with Cody. I spent more time doing the dares than telling the truth.
Sofia peers at the ride again. “Okay, you ask first.”
“All right. You ready?”
She takes a deep breath then nods. “Ready?”
“You once played spin the bottle and had to kiss the class geek.”
She laughs and some of her tension drains away. “Is this your way of getting me to kiss you at the end of our non-date date?”
“Hey, just answer the
I scan the area, checking the choices. “How are you with heights?”
She bites her lip for a second and that’s the only answer I need. I slip her hand into mine and squeeze it. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the entire time. And these rides were designed to work with physics, not against it. Nothing bad will happen.”
“Unless I lose my lunch.”
“And if you do, it’s not the end of the world, right?”
She looks at me like I’m nuts but eventually nods. “Okay, let’s do it.”
We walk to the tower ride and join the long line. “You said you took biomechanics last year. Did you enjoy it?” I ask.
The smile from earlier slips back on her face. “I did. I wasn’t sure I would. Math and I aren’t actually besties, so I avoided physics in high school. But I managed to pull off a B in biomechanics.” The smile brightens. “I wouldn’t mind learning more physics. From you.”
“Like what?”
She thinks for a second, her focus on the ride in front of us. The people in the seats around the base suddenly shoot up, screaming, to the top of the tower. They stop, free fall, then bounce up again.
She tears her attention away from the ride, her face paler. “How do Santa’s reindeer fly?” she asks, her face without a hint of humor.
With an equally straight face, I reply, “While the rides here have to abide by the laws of physics as we know them, Santa’s reindeer are able to ignore those laws since they are…they are magical.”
“I knew it!” She laughs. “Okay, tell me something that has to do with physics and hockey.”
A light in my chest flickers on. A light that had burned out after the accident. She remembers what I told her the other day. Which makes her nothing like the puck bunnies who are only interested in fucking me so they can tell their friends that they screwed a NHL hockey player. They never ask anything about me and I never volunteer anything, either. Sofia’s different. She’s interested in the real me and nothing less.
“What do you know about impulse?” I ask.
She bits her lip, again, as she thinks. “Not much. It has to do with momentum.”
“That’s right. It’s based on Newton’s second law of motion. It’s the force applied for a given amount of time. The greater the force, the greater the impulse. If you have two hockey players charging down the ice toward their respective pucks during a drill, the one who hits the puck the hardest will send his puck traveling further, assuming the time of contact between the puck and the stick is the same between the two players.”
“And if one player screws up on the follow through,” she says, “the contact time is less, and the puck won’t go as far even if the force was the same as with the other player?”
The warmth inside me spreads at how she’s listening to what I’m saying. “Exactly. You got it.”
She asks me a few more questions as we wait. We’re almost near the front of the line when she sucks in a sharp breath. We’re in the next group to go on the ride. The physics Q&A isn’t enough to relax her.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I tell her.
She watches as the people in the seats jerk upwards. The muscles in her shoulders visibly tighten. “No, I’m good.”
“Let’s play a game.”
She pulls her attention from the ride. “What kind of game?”
“One person makes a statement about the other person, and if it’s false, the other person has to tell the truth or do a dare.” I used to play this game with Cody. I spent more time doing the dares than telling the truth.
Sofia peers at the ride again. “Okay, you ask first.”
“All right. You ready?”
She takes a deep breath then nods. “Ready?”
“You once played spin the bottle and had to kiss the class geek.”
She laughs and some of her tension drains away. “Is this your way of getting me to kiss you at the end of our non-date date?”
“Hey, just answer the
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