Emily
"So, are you going to help me with my report on photo-synthetic-sis?" Drake asks me. He'd had his homework out for about ten seconds before giving up on it.
I sigh and decide not to correct him. "I don't mind looking over it after you've finished it, if you want," I reply before going back to wondering about the practical uses for the quadratic equation. Advanced algebra is boring. All I have to do is memorize formulas and plug in the numbers. I don't understand how anyone could get less than an A. I try to find ways to make it interesting by thinking about how the equations could be used on a scientific level, but I just can't get into this equation.
"What is photo-synthetic-sis?" he questions.
"Well, what do your notes say?" I ask knowingly.
"I couldn't spell it, so I didn't write it down," he explains after taking a moment to concoct his excuse.
Drake isn't stupid; he's actually very smart. If he had to do a report on the Purple Wedgie Machine, he'd be so into it that it would turn into an in-depth dissertation on the entire concept history of the monster, its ancestry, and its purpose. However, he doesn't want to apply that same drive to learn things that would help him in school.
I decide to give him the same advice I repeatedly give Kelsie: "Google it. Even if you spell it wrong, Google will correct you."
I see the business persona in him come out that I wonder if he even knows he has as he replies, "Ah, but you see, you're faster than Google."
"You mean I'm less effort than Google," I correct him.
"That could be one way to say it, but I would have to click on several different sites to get the answer I needed. Then, I'd have to put it in my own words so I'm not copying. But, if I just asked you, I'd get the answer in seconds."
I get to the real issue here and decide to stop listening to the schmooze dripping off his voice. "I'm not going to do your work for you, Drake." Both Daddy and Uncle Alex talked to us (at different times) about me doing Drake's work, and I promised I wouldn't anymore.
"I'm not asking you do to my work. I'll go ahead and show you my hands: I want you to tutor me," he responds with a calculating gleam in his crystal eyes. He got the 'hands' phrase wrong, and I can only assume he'd heard one of his parents say that and messed it up. I have to bite my lip to stop my laugh when I suddenly think of the scene in Snow White when the dwarves had to show the princess their dirty hands.
I slap my book closed. "Fine. Get out paper and a pencil, and by the way, it's photosynthesis." I spell it for him while he starts writing away, telling me to slow down once I start explaining everything.
I think Drake annoys my dad, so I start tutoring Drake more at his house. Uncle Alex works from home quite frequently, and he sometimes sits in and listens, not saying much.
Drake goes upstairs to finish the rest of his homework on his own. Uncle Alex will drive me home as soon as Aunt Laura comes home from work.
"Thank you for doing this, Emily," he says as he sits next to me on the sofa.
I have the science channel going on the TV, something I don't often get to watch thanks to Ethan hogging our set. "It's not hard," I tell him. "I think he knows all this stuff but can't figure out how to use it. That's probably why he'd get frustrated and would rather just have someone else do the actual work."
"That makes sense, and you being his age, you can better relate to him than his teacher can," he points out.
I pause as I consider that. "I suppose... But I don't really feel my age. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and wonder who that kid is that looks back at me. Maybe it's because I'm always around high schoolers. I guess I see myself as a short high schooler."
His eyes move to the side. "I guess I can see that. They wanted to move me up a few levels too, but my mom wouldn't let them. So, instead of learning more advanced things, I took what I was learning and applied it in different ways."
"That's what I'm having to do with algebra," I tell him. "It's so boring!"
He looks at me in surprise. "You don't like math?!"
"Oh, I like the concept of math; it's the class that bores me to tears. They're so centered on getting us to memorize equations that we don't learn about why they're important. They just want us to perform well on the standardized tests like each school is racing the other one so they can say, 'I won! I taught my students the most!' For example, right now, we're working on the quadratic equation. Would you believe they made us learn it by a song?! Don't get me wrong; I'm all for alternate teaching techniques, but I felt absolutely ridiculous singing it. Now, I'll have that thing stuck in my long-term memory forever. I'm sick of punching numbers into their slots without knowing why!" I find myself panting with pent up rage that I'd previously not known I had.
Uncle Alex looks at me with a strange look, and I apologize. Then, he says, "You know, when I was a little, little kid, I wanted to be an astronaut."
Wondering if he'd listened to a word I said, I say slowly, "Okaaaay."
"You want to learn a practical application for the quadratic equation, correct?" he asks, looking at the television with a small smile.
I relax. "Yes," I answer with weary emphasis.
He checks his phone for the time. "We have a few minutes. Let's go outside, and I'll teach you."
"Now," he asks, "what do you see?"
I wonder if this is a trick question, and I answer with a hint of suspicion, "Stars. ... Planets. ... Constellations." He stays quiet, and I think a little deeper. "Time."
"Yes!" he answers just a little too excitedly. Then, he clears his throat and asks, "Why did you say time?"
"Um, because I was thinking about the distance between everything and how it all moves and how long it's taken to get there," I reply, not really liking my rambling sort of answer.
"For now, let's focus on the 'how it all moves' bit," he says. Then, he starts teaching me stuff I pretty much already knew, but he starts plugging math into it. He describes what we're seeing as only a slice of the bigger picture, so we've needed formulas to explain the rest.
"Oh, sure," I say, interrupting but hopefully not in a rude way. "That's simple ellipses and hyperbolas, et cetera."
"Put the 'ellipses and hyperbolas, et cetera' all together," he says in a leading way, and he pauses while I think.
I gasp. Suddenly, everything makes sense! I can almost hear the numbers and variables falling into their places, looking back at me like they've been waiting for me to find them. I can hardly breathe as my mind explodes, and I can see the same principals applied, well, everywhere. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"You're brilliant, Emily," I hear, and I sniff. Wait, am I CRYING?!
Aunt Laura's car pulls into the driveway, and we both sit up. I wipe my face while she asks me if everything is okay.
Uncle Alex answers for me. "She was frustrated, and I just showed her how math was cool." Then he kisses her on the cheek while she giggles.
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^^That explains it far better than I could ever hope to do. (That actually made math entertaining, even if my head exploded in a much less pleasant way than Emily's.) So, I decided it would be better if I stuck to the emotional side of it.
*hums that annoying song*
What I think is really cool is that I randomly picked the quadratic doodah with no real plan. Then, everything fell into place to give me the perfect segue to the end of the chapter. I LOVE it when that happens!
Click here to go to 2.10
Click here to go to 2.10
I don't like Drake. He's a user and he irks me just like his father. Alex and his son give me the creeps at this point. That 'friendship' I don't agree with, being called 'Uncle' Alex I think is over the line considering their history. The whole situation just makes me queasy. This new found 'bond' or whatever Alex and Emily just shared I think is going to be one more thing that hurts Graham. Like no one in his family respects him, or his feelings at all. :(
ReplyDeleteYep. He's a user. It's still an odd friendship with Alex and Brielle. You might be right on how this new bond with Emily and Alex might hurt Graham. After all, Graham was once a teacher, and he'd have been very glad to point all that out to Emily himself.
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