The White Board Conundrum
Feb 23, 2014 21:54:16 GMT -5
Post by Adelaide McLisk on Feb 23, 2014 21:54:16 GMT -5
Add no longer attended Hammel, though that didn't stop her from feeling drawn to the place. Hammel had been one of the places that she'd felt comfortable; everything had lined up. True, she'd still be the odd one, but there were plenty of odd people at Hammel. There were quite a few at the school Add attended now, but that didn't change the memories. Add's recent situation had certainly unearthed a few of those memories, as had her explorations in her parents' attic looking for the necessary documents. So it was probably memories and a drive for comfort that sent her back to Hammel.
Specifically, Add's drive took her to the math classrooms. Here she had excelled, her gift honed to a razor's edge. Here she'd met the first person to really "get" her, as much as you really could, and here she'd learned to really love and appreciate what she did. That she got to practice math and revel in all its wonder had only made things better.
Add's eyes swept the halls. Classes were just releasing and no student wanted to linger for long around the math section. You had to either be crazy or some kind of nerd to want to hang around numbers when you didn't have to. This meant that Add only had to dodge around a few people, which suited her just fine. Most of the probabilities were standard, little bits and pieces that Add could handle. Exiting students carried the same odds all over, and Add had long since gotten adjusted to that. She peeked through a few doors as she went, seeing equations on a few boards. She'd just reached the offices and decided to turn around when she caught something out of the corner of her eye.
It was a white board, or a white wall, nearly, hanging in an office. And there was a common proof there, sketched out with all the right symbols. Add found herself drawn to it as though it were a light and she the moth. Her eyes widened as she took it in, the math flooding through her brain. She'd seen this one before. The familiarity made it almost enjoyable, as Add's brain ran across the familiar theorems and numbers, feeling as though they were old friends. Add knew that she'd locked, standing in the doorway looking in, the math flooding her brain, but this time, she found that she didn't care. Her eyes just kept moving, her brain calculating, her fingers twitching, practically begging for the marker to finish what had been started.
Specifically, Add's drive took her to the math classrooms. Here she had excelled, her gift honed to a razor's edge. Here she'd met the first person to really "get" her, as much as you really could, and here she'd learned to really love and appreciate what she did. That she got to practice math and revel in all its wonder had only made things better.
Add's eyes swept the halls. Classes were just releasing and no student wanted to linger for long around the math section. You had to either be crazy or some kind of nerd to want to hang around numbers when you didn't have to. This meant that Add only had to dodge around a few people, which suited her just fine. Most of the probabilities were standard, little bits and pieces that Add could handle. Exiting students carried the same odds all over, and Add had long since gotten adjusted to that. She peeked through a few doors as she went, seeing equations on a few boards. She'd just reached the offices and decided to turn around when she caught something out of the corner of her eye.
It was a white board, or a white wall, nearly, hanging in an office. And there was a common proof there, sketched out with all the right symbols. Add found herself drawn to it as though it were a light and she the moth. Her eyes widened as she took it in, the math flooding through her brain. She'd seen this one before. The familiarity made it almost enjoyable, as Add's brain ran across the familiar theorems and numbers, feeling as though they were old friends. Add knew that she'd locked, standing in the doorway looking in, the math flooding her brain, but this time, she found that she didn't care. Her eyes just kept moving, her brain calculating, her fingers twitching, practically begging for the marker to finish what had been started.
