soda. She'd loved
the night sky ever since she was a little girl. At first she'd wanted
to become an astronomer, but then she'd discovered that simple
mathematics were infinitely more wonderful. Math was something
nearby, something she could manipulate. Not so the moon. The only
thing the moon could do was mesmerize her.
"The
ancients used to think she was a goddess. Scientists are less
flattering."
As
she heard the voice, she thought, surprised, that this was the second
time this evening that a stranger had decided to strike up a
conversation with her. She turned to face the person speaking, her
brain emitting a lightning-speed report on the most likely (most desirable?) possibility.
She was wrong. It wasn't Four-One-Hundredths-Less Ric Valente Sharpe
(how could she even have thought?), but another young man, tall and
attractive, with dark hair and light eyes. He wore a T-shirt and
khaki Bermuda shorts.
"The
moon, I mean. You were staring at it very curiously." He had a
backpack, which he dropped on the grass to hold out his hand. "I'm
Javier Maldonado. That's the moon. And you, must be Elisa Robledo. I
saw your picture in the school paper, and here you are. Lucky me. Do
you mind if I sit down?"
She
did mind, especially because he'd already sat down, invading her
personal space and forcing her to scoot over in order to avoid his
huge, flip-flopped feet touching hers. Elisa, however, told him to go
ahead. She was intrigued. She watched the guy take some papers from
his backpack. At least he had an original pickup line.
"I
snuck in through the back door," Maldonado confessed
conspiratorially. "I'm not even a science major. I'm doing
journalism at Alighieri, and for our final project we have to write a
special report. I'm supposed to interview graduating physics majors.
You know, talk to them, ask little questions about their lives, their
studies, what they do in their free time, their favorite sexual
position." Maybe he picked up on the calm seriousness with which
Elisa was staring at him, because suddenly he stopped. "OK, I'm
an asshole. But the interview is serious, I swear." He showed
her his papers. "I chose you guys because you're famous."
"Us?"
"The
students doing Blanes's course. I mean, my God, they say he's the
biggest hotshot there is in physics. Would you mind answering a few
questions for an aspiring journalist?"
"Actually,
I was just getting ready to go."
All
of a sudden, Maldonado leaped comically to his knees.
"I'm
begging you... I haven't gotten a single person to accept yet... I
have to finish this project or I'll never even get hired as a
copywriter for Soap
Opera Digest. Worse,
they'll make me go interview a politician at parliament. Have mercy.
It won't take much time, I promise..."
Smiling,
Elisa looked at her watch and got up.
"I'm
sorry. The last bus back to Madrid leaves in ten minutes and I can't
miss it."
Maldonado
stood, too. A malicious expression danced on his face, and Elisa
admitted to herself that she found it slightly alluring. She was
amused. Probably
thinks he's gorgeous.
"Well,
look, I'll make you a deal. You answer a few questions, and I'll
drive you home. All the way to your front door. Word of honor."
"Thanks,
but..."
"You
don't want to. Of course. I understand. After all, we just met. OK,
what about this? Today, I ask you a few questions, and only if you
want to, we finish up another day. How's that? Five minutes. That way
you'll make your bus."
Elisa
was still smiling, both amused and intrigued. She was about to relent
when Maldonado spoke again.
"You
liked that one, right? OK, come on."
He
gestured to the very spot they'd just stood up from. I can
listen to him ask questions for five minutes, she
thought.
ACTUALLY, she
listened to him for longer than that and spoke for even longer. But
she couldn't blame Maldonado, who, far from playing dirty, was
friendly and attentive. He even went so far as to remind her, at just
the right time, that her five minutes were
the night sky ever since she was a little girl. At first she'd wanted
to become an astronomer, but then she'd discovered that simple
mathematics were infinitely more wonderful. Math was something
nearby, something she could manipulate. Not so the moon. The only
thing the moon could do was mesmerize her.
"The
ancients used to think she was a goddess. Scientists are less
flattering."
As
she heard the voice, she thought, surprised, that this was the second
time this evening that a stranger had decided to strike up a
conversation with her. She turned to face the person speaking, her
brain emitting a lightning-speed report on the most likely (most desirable?) possibility.
She was wrong. It wasn't Four-One-Hundredths-Less Ric Valente Sharpe
(how could she even have thought?), but another young man, tall and
attractive, with dark hair and light eyes. He wore a T-shirt and
khaki Bermuda shorts.
"The
moon, I mean. You were staring at it very curiously." He had a
backpack, which he dropped on the grass to hold out his hand. "I'm
Javier Maldonado. That's the moon. And you, must be Elisa Robledo. I
saw your picture in the school paper, and here you are. Lucky me. Do
you mind if I sit down?"
She
did mind, especially because he'd already sat down, invading her
personal space and forcing her to scoot over in order to avoid his
huge, flip-flopped feet touching hers. Elisa, however, told him to go
ahead. She was intrigued. She watched the guy take some papers from
his backpack. At least he had an original pickup line.
"I
snuck in through the back door," Maldonado confessed
conspiratorially. "I'm not even a science major. I'm doing
journalism at Alighieri, and for our final project we have to write a
special report. I'm supposed to interview graduating physics majors.
You know, talk to them, ask little questions about their lives, their
studies, what they do in their free time, their favorite sexual
position." Maybe he picked up on the calm seriousness with which
Elisa was staring at him, because suddenly he stopped. "OK, I'm
an asshole. But the interview is serious, I swear." He showed
her his papers. "I chose you guys because you're famous."
"Us?"
"The
students doing Blanes's course. I mean, my God, they say he's the
biggest hotshot there is in physics. Would you mind answering a few
questions for an aspiring journalist?"
"Actually,
I was just getting ready to go."
All
of a sudden, Maldonado leaped comically to his knees.
"I'm
begging you... I haven't gotten a single person to accept yet... I
have to finish this project or I'll never even get hired as a
copywriter for Soap
Opera Digest. Worse,
they'll make me go interview a politician at parliament. Have mercy.
It won't take much time, I promise..."
Smiling,
Elisa looked at her watch and got up.
"I'm
sorry. The last bus back to Madrid leaves in ten minutes and I can't
miss it."
Maldonado
stood, too. A malicious expression danced on his face, and Elisa
admitted to herself that she found it slightly alluring. She was
amused. Probably
thinks he's gorgeous.
"Well,
look, I'll make you a deal. You answer a few questions, and I'll
drive you home. All the way to your front door. Word of honor."
"Thanks,
but..."
"You
don't want to. Of course. I understand. After all, we just met. OK,
what about this? Today, I ask you a few questions, and only if you
want to, we finish up another day. How's that? Five minutes. That way
you'll make your bus."
Elisa
was still smiling, both amused and intrigued. She was about to relent
when Maldonado spoke again.
"You
liked that one, right? OK, come on."
He
gestured to the very spot they'd just stood up from. I can
listen to him ask questions for five minutes, she
thought.
ACTUALLY, she
listened to him for longer than that and spoke for even longer. But
she couldn't blame Maldonado, who, far from playing dirty, was
friendly and attentive. He even went so far as to remind her, at just
the right time, that her five minutes were
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