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I don’t want to think about what he can do. Maybe I’ll get kicked out of middle school in my 1st week. Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.
I can’t believe I’m having violent thoughts. Middle school is turning me into a monster.
The only thing I’ve ever plotted before is graph points. But now I’m plotting revenge.
I wouldn’t mind losing my sit-stand routine or not worrying about germs. But no one was taking away pi.
“This string of numbers takes over my brain if I don’t follow my pattern. It’s like an alien invasion in my head. The digits are loud and bright, and I can’t do anything else. I can’t even think about anything else, because they block everything.”
“Imagine if you couldn’t stop the number invasion. That would be worse.”
Nana told me to make 1 friend. And I guess I have. She may be using me for a sugar rush, but that’s okay.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Jensen says to us—a statement I always find weird because I’m never able to guess what another person is thinking. And she claims to know what an entire 7th-grade class is thinking.
And changing the world is a tall order for someone who is just trying to survive each day.
my counting is extra work that doesn’t get me any extra credit.
She knows nothing about me. It’s just teacher talk. That’s a relief. Life is easier when there are no expectations.
I wish I could believe her, but I know I’ll never be comfortable in this school.
“Family room over garage. FROG.” I guess it’s a term you only learn if you own a mansion.
I’ve thought of myself as a genius, a savant, and a freak, but never an orphan. Nana has always been there, and Uncle Paul, too.
Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: “It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices.”
Animals are unpredictable, and they can’t be wiped down with Clorox.
Windy likes to think big, and she needs someone else to pull her back to earth. I’m her gravity.
While he’s talking, I imagine showing him my world. He’d love to see math and numbers the way I do—in everything from the stars to building construction to ripples on a lake. Even water draining in the sink. I see circles and bisecting triangles that form equations in my brain. If only there were an easy way, like wearing special glasses; a lightning strike is too painful, and results aren’t guaranteed.
I know optimal stopping theory. It’s a way to calculate the best time to do something, to figure out the best odds. It’s usually used in finance or pricing, not romance.
I don’t mean to judge my classmates, but if I had to guess, I think Mr. Stoker’s lesson goes over their heads.
“This country’s divorce rate is over 50 percent. Maybe OST could help.”
math as the basis of life. From cells to music. Numbers and patterns control our world and can make it better.
“Mathematics is even being used in the courtroom. With enough data from similar cases, a verdict can be determined with amazing accuracy. May...
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Don’t be afraid of numbers. Use them to compute your solutions. Look at the world as it is intended.”
I’m sure Maddie would rather eat slugs than work with me. And I feel the same way, but I would never eat a slug. I don’t even like shrimp.
“Are you discriminating against snakes and turtles? Do they not need loving, caring forever homes?” Levi asks.
“The media center is a privilege.”
I’m starting to think working on a team is a form of torture. The teachers are doing this as part of a weird social experiment to see if they can make students hate each other.
“Math makes sense. So maybe we could use numbers to express our problem and even the solution.”
hate imprecise descriptions like lots, few, and hardly any.
Again, I’m making up numbers that I know nothing about. It feels like cheating.
I’m spreading a disease of inaccuracy.
I’m not sure what just happened. I never wanted to work with animals. I still don’t. I only wanted Windy and Levi not to kill each other. I guess I solved 1 problem.
Levi sees things in an instant that I must miss every day.
Levi and I live in the same world, but we see things very differently. I guess it would be boring if we all had the same view.
She seems to argue with everyone but me.
Dogs aren’t clean and don’t respect personal space—from what I’ve seen on TV. Some people claim that dogs’ mouths are cleaner than humans’ mouths. That’s not true. Both are hot, wet, dark pools of bacteria. Dogs have as much bacteria, just different kinds.
The size of the dog doesn’t matter. They all seem to be trying to break free. Like they want to chew my throat.
My brain lets me see these perfect circles filled with triangles defined by the ratio pi. More beautiful math that surrounds me everywhere. Still, I’ll need to shower when I get home. Who knows what germs lurk in those circles?
The data is all here. Our problem and the solution for our project are buried in these papers. But none of it is usable yet.
“You shouldn’t take someone’s picture without asking.”
Of course she doesn’t have exact numbers. How could she, with her current filing system?
Pi is spelled like the mathematical expression, not the pastry. I don’t know if the woman is a bad speller or was just in a hurry. Still, I feel this is a sign. Nana sees signs in everything. Sometimes the cosmos or God is trying to tell us something. Like if she finds a dollar, which means God wants her to buy a lotto ticket. Other than being struck by lightning, I’ve never gotten a sign from God. But that was a pretty big 1.
I need them to not kill each other long enough that I can finish playing with numbers from the Pet Hut.
No one really notices anymore. It’s only weird now if we have a substitute.
I’ve never been so happy to hear her voice. Did my brain send a telepathic message? This is a new skill.
Next, I call Levi. I try not to think too much about it. I’ve never called a boy before and asked him to hang out or work on a project or anything. He might take it the wrong way, since Windy won’t be there. And that’s the last thing I want.
“That’s like asking me not to bring my right arm.”
I can already imagine the lecture he’d give me about boys and dating. And this is not a date!
“We’re not even friends,” I say. “We’re partners on a project.”
