Boy Meets Nerd (8 page)

also

known

as

hackers, to factor the public number and find the two prime numbers that secure it. If the hacker can do it, the system isn’t secure. An even better way to ensure security is to find even greater prime numbers. So far, the largest non-prime number a computer has been able to factor is four billion, two hundred ninety four million nine hundred sixty seven thousand two hundred and ninety six.”

His eyes widened. “That a big number.”

“Yes, but imagine if we

could find an even bigger prime number. Every product of two prime numbers can only be factored one way. It has its own unique formula of prime numbers. That part is important because there can be only one solution for the secret encryption code. So the larger the prime number used, the harder it would be to break the code.” Slowly, he nodded, staring through her.

She

waited

for

his

expression to go vacant, or for him to say he had a headache. That was usually what happened when she tried to explain cryptology.

“Hmm,” he finally said.

“So, you basically solve really really big math problems?”

“Well, my computer does

and I write the code. But yeah, that’s the idea.”

“Okay. I think I get it.” He leaned forward and rested on his elbows. “You know, it’s not that different from composition. I solve puzzles too. But instead of solving them as numbers, I solve them as tones. You put numbers together to fit evenly into other numbers. I put tones together to sound good.

Actually, there’s something called Algorithmic Composition. It’s using math to write songs.” His eyes narrowed. “Hey, I bet we’d make a good team.”

“No way. Your work is

subjective. There’s no right or wrong answer.”

“Not technically, but there are pairings of notes that sound universally good together and ones that don’t. Finding those pairs is a lot like adding numbers. Think of a song as one big math equation. The more correctly matched groups of notes, the better the song.” He smiled at her. “What you and I do is not so different. Except I suck at math so I rely on my ear. But art can be created either way.” Before she could protest, he added, “Yes, math can be art, Emerson. Don’t be so narrow-minded.”

He winked and all she could

do was stare at him, somewhat awe-struck. Thoughts flew by like paper airplanes in the wind, but she couldn’t latch onto a single one.

And for a hyper focused math genius, that was disturbing.

***

A small smile settled on Emerson’s face as she gazed at him.

What was this mysterious girl thinking? Though she’d come off as an anti-social slightly cocky bitch in the beginning, now she was showing a different side of her. She
could
make eye contact, when she cared

enough.

She
did
have

meaningful conversations, when she was

interested

in

the

topic.

Emerson wasn’t a head case, or a mean girl, she was misunderstood.

Levi had been unraveling the puzzle that was her mind, and actually enjoying it.

“You said you’d tell me

everything if I got you a coffee smoothie thing.” He gestured to the cup.

“Frappuccino.”

“Whatever. I got it for you so now I demand answers.” With mock sternness, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me everything you know.”

“Pushy. No spotlight and

one-way mirror, Mr. Interrogator?” Leaning down, she reached for something by her feet then sat up and placed her laptop on the table.

“Do you bring that thing everywhere with you?”

“Yep.”

“Even on a date?”

Scowling, she opened it

then answered, “It wasn’t a date.

But yes, even on dates. If I ever had one.”

She

didn’t

date?

That

shouldn’t surprise him. But even the most hardcore shut-ins needed companionship. Emerson had a lot to offer, if only she’d open up more.

So focused on this prime number thing, she probably didn’t bother to try. The intense feelings that had scared him a few days ago, and made him run from her apartment guilty and ashamed resurfaced. She didn’t just need love – she needed someone to watch out for her, definitely someone to cook and clean, maybe even someone to listen to her. Deep proprietary feelings rose up inside of him. She wasn’t right for him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about her. He wanted to protect her, but like an older brother. Nothing more. Yeah.

Caring wasn’t so bad when he put it that way.

She

probably

wouldn’t

admit it, but she seemed lonely.

Numbers

didn’t

make

good

company. Neither did computers.

He would know.

“I hacked into the Ohio

DMV and found out all sorts of information about Heidi. Where she works, her home address, legal history, driving infractions…” She paused, studying the screen. “Two tickets for cell phone use while driving.” Smirking, she glanced at him. “That was probably your fault.

At least there’s no DUI’s.”

She was like the fucking CIA. He swallowed hard as she rambled on but a ringing started in his ears.

“Stop looking at that,” he finally snapped.

This felt like a huge

invasion of privacy. Ten times worse than looking for her real name or what state she lived in.

Curiosity piqued but guilt overrode it. He only needed the basics. Was she in real life, the way she was online? But how would Emerson know that? It wasn’t as if she could hack into her personality, or her feelings for him. The only way he would truly know was by spending time with her, in person – the one thing she was putting off. And that made him more suspicious than anything on her driving record.

Emerson gave him a puzzled

look. “Don’t you want to know if she’s on probation or something?”

“This is wrong.”

She shook her head and

sighed. “You and your morals. Fine.

I won’t check her SAT scores either then.”

“Jesus,”

he

muttered,

rubbing his hand over his face.

“No,” she replied. “She’s not affiliated with any church.” He ignored the remark,

deciding it was easier to assume she was joking. Despite his misgivings about spying, he was relieved to have an address.

Finally, he could go to her, see her face to face. She couldn’t hide anymore. “Is she in Ohio?”

“Yup. Just outside Toledo.

And she works at an elementary school, so she didn’t lie about that.” She shrugged. “This really isn’t that bad. She used a fake name and picture, and hid where she lived, but… She’s never been arrested. I couldn’t find any signs that she’s in therapy

or

takes

prescription

medication. Even her credit score is decent.”

If the news was so good, why didn’t he feel comforted by it?

And that Emerson knew so much about her felt weird. Like two worlds colliding. Not to mention the guilt. Not only that he was spying, seriously spying, but he was also

having

these

wacky,

unpredictable feelings for Em. This projection shit was out of control.

Was there a pill for this? His mother would know. She took enough vitamins and prescription medication to fill a pharmacy. She swore it relaxed her but if she were any more uptight, she’d pop like an overfilled water balloon.

“Have you asked her about any of this?” Em questioned.

“No. I was waiting until I had more evidence to confront her so I would know if she was lying again. Now that I have an address, I think I’m going to drive out to see her. I want to do it in person, so I can look in her eyes.”

She nodded. “Well, she’s

not a registered gun owner so I think you’re safe.”

He flicked his gaze to hers, looking for signs she was joking.

Her expression stayed neutral.

Typical

Emerson

–

always

pragmatic. He burst out laughing.

Her

brow

furrowed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His

laughter

died down to just a chuckle. “I just like you.”

Pink painted her cheeks as she stared down at the table. He cringed. Stupid move. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Um. I mean, you’re doing a

good job.”

He watched her nod then

look anywhere but at him. A wave of affection swept over him. Though she didn’t put out warm fuzzy vibes, there was a certain sweetness about her, different from other girls. It was subtle but still there – in the way she blushed, her smiles that were reserved for real moments of happiness, and the fact that she seemed to care about him, even if it was only a little.

With a small smile, and a soft gaze he said, “Thank you, Emerson.”

“For what?”

“Not judging me.”

After heaving a breath, she lifted her head. The pink had gone from her cheeks, sadly. He’d liked the slightly embarrassed look on her face. It reminded him of that after-glow women got after a good fuck.

He hid a grin. If she knew what he was thinking, she’d probably turn bright red.

“I judge you,” she said, smirking. “I just don’t do it out loud.”

He chuckled. “Well, thanks for that then.” The mischievous twinkle in her eye said she was teasing, but he’d learned Emerson didn’t hold back her opinions often.

“I know you must think I’m stupid for falling for this girl.”

She shrugged, but looked

away. Was she planning to lie? “It’s not my business. I’m just doing my job.”

“You’ve never fallen in

love?”

“No,” she said with a

sardonic laugh. “I’m too driven with my work. I don’t know. It’s probably impossible.” She almost looked sad about it. “It’d be like having to split myself in two. I can’t focus on work and a person at the same time. There’s just not enough time or energy.”

“That’s silly. Love isn’t quantifiable.”

Her

brows

shot

up.

“Everything is quantifiable.”

“That doesn’t even make

sense.”

He

scowled,

feeling

irritated though he didn’t understand why. “Feelings can’t be counted up and divided.”

“Sure

they

can.

Relationships require attention. I’d have to spend x amount of time on the emotional stuff, then y on pragmatic stuff. A huge amount of time is spent on communication, let’s say that’s x squared, plus there’s bound to be fights over misunderstandings, so x squared plus y for that. All these hours added up are time away from my research. So love equals,
modestly
, three x squared plus y.”

He stared for a moment,

trying to wrap his head around all of that. Mathematician. Figured.

“Wow. I had no idea love could sound so boring.”

“It isn’t all flowers and poetry, you know. At least not for long.”

“Oh, I know how you feel.

Anyone can betray the ones they love. Such an optimist.”

She shrugged, looked totally unapologetic. “It’s true. I’ve seen it a dozen times.”

“You’re jaded.”

“You’re idealistic.”

They had a brief staring contest then Emerson looked away.

“Anyway, I’ll send you everything I uncovered.

Unless

you

need

anything else, I guess we’re done.” Her face fell. “Um, I’ll email an invoice with the final report.” What? Already? He was

reluctant to part. If he read her right, she didn’t seem too eager to get rid of him either. Maybe they could stay friends. Did she even like him like that?

Sometimes he caught her

staring at him in a mysterious way.

Not creepy, like Mrs. Miller, but as if she were confused by him. He wasn’t exactly hard to figure out –

not too smart, not too dumb. Though compared to her, his intelligence was lacking so maybe that was why she gave him strange looks. He squirmed a bit, somewhat self-conscious now.

Last time they’d been at Starbucks together, she’d barely looked at him. Now she not only made eye contact, but showed him a variety of expressions. Sly when she was being funny. Confused when he laughed at her bluntness.

Adorable when she… She was always adorable.

“So what are you gonna do now?” she asked.

It took him a moment to switch gears, away from Emerson and back to Heidi. This wasn’t good. Forcing himself to focus, he pictured what he’d been dreaming of doing for months.

“I’m going to drive to her house.” Pull her into his arms –

Heidi, with the brown hair and crooked teeth – then kiss her hard.

After that…a happily ever after, he supposed. That was the best case scenario. But Emerson didn’t need to know all that.

“Just drive to her house and talk to her.”

“Well.”

She

shrugged.

“Good luck.”

“Hang on.” He put up a

hand. An idea formed in his mind and he held back a grin. “You’re driving to Chicago next week.”

“Yeah. So?”

“I’m headed to Ohio. We

should ride together.”

Her eyes grew wide in a horrified expression. “What?” As he thought it through, the plan seemed more and more brilliant. “It’s a long way to drive by yourself. If we ride together, we can split the driving time. I’ll drive to Cleveland, it’s practically on the way, and you can drop me off. Then you only have to drive half of the way. You can pick me up on the way back and I’ll drive again. It’s a perfect plan. We’ll split the gas and it saves us both the hassle of driving alone.”

“No.”

He should’ve known she’d

say that. Of course she’d rather spend twelve hours alone in the car than with an actual living, breathing person. Emerson, the jaded math geek who managed to write an equation for love. Frustration made him growl a little.

“Bad idea. Sharing a small space for that long? We’d kill each other.”

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back. “No, we wouldn’t. We get along fine.”

Her face scrunched up in a look of disgust. Again, he felt somewhat offended. Was he that unappealing? He wasn’t used to people being repulsed by him.