The deal we made

07

It had almost been a week since the party last Saturday, and I couldn't stop replaying the night in my head: the moments when Liam had looked at me and the way his voice sounded. But as the days passed he hadn't come to talk to me and I didn't either, I was to scared.

Maybe I'd read too much into it. Maybe he'd just been caught up in the moment, and by the time the night was over, he'd forgotten about our conversation entirely. The thought made my chest ache, but I tried to push it away.

Still, I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. Every time I walked across campus, I found myself scanning the crowd for him, half-hoping, half-dreading that I'd see him.

But there was nothing.

So, I buried myself in work instead, focusing on the research project I was doing with Chris. It was easier to lose myself in data analysis than to keep wondering what I could have done differently.

Mr Grumpy, a.k.a. Chris and I had a meeting scheduled for today and I was determined to push everything else out of my mind and just focus on getting things done.

——-

I arrived at the office a few minutes early, knocking lightly on the door before stepping inside. Chris was already there, sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers and his laptop. He looked up as I entered.

"Hey, Emily," he said, "You're early."

"Yeah," I replied, trying to match his casual tone. "I've gone through the data," I began, placing the binder on the desk. "There are some interesting correlations, especially in the cases with prolonged exposure to high-stress environments in early childhood."

He leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "Show me."

I started explaining my observations, highlighting trends and raising questions where the data seemed inconclusive. As I spoke, I noticed Chris listening intently, occasionally nodding but not saying much.

When I finished, there was a moment of silence as Chris skimmed through my notes. He finally looked up, his gaze sharp as ever. "You've been thorough," he admitted, closing the binder. "But there's something you're missing."

"What is it?" I said trying to keep my tone neutral.

Chris tapped the binder lightly with his fingers. "You're focusing too much on the obvious correlations. What you need to do is dig deeper, look for the outliers. Those cases that don't fit the pattern. They're often where the most important insights lie."

I nodded, absorbing his words. "I understand. I'll go back and take another look."

He was right and he gave me advice that was really helpful. I hadn't really thought about it that way.

Chris's eyes softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "Good. Remember, this isn't just about finding what's expected. It's about challenging those expectations. That's where real discovery happens."

I felt a surge of determination. "I won't let you down."

For the first time, Chris's stern expression softened into something resembling approval. "You're off to a decent start, Emily.", he said, his voice not quite as gruff as before.

As I gathered my things to leave, Chris added, almost as an afterthought, "If you have questions or if something doesn't make sense don't hesitate to ask. It's better to clarify than to make assumptions."

I paused, surprised by the offer Chris gave me to help. "Thank you, Mr Larsen. I appreciate that."

He gave a curt nod and turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

——

The next few days I started looking for the hidden correlations Chris was talking about. It all started to make much more sense when I found them. The more I practiced looking for this patterns, the more inportant insights I found.

Chris and I started working together more. I was starting to get a better sense of how Chris operated. He wasn't one for small talk, every word he said was precise and necessary.

There was an intensity to him, a focus that could easily be mistaken for impatience or even rudeness.

But the more time I spent with him, the more I understood that it wasn't about a lack of social graces, it was about efficiency. Chris was always thinking, always processing, and anything that didn't directly contribute to solving the problem was, in his eyes, a distraction.

I made my way to his office again. I had just finished another study session in the library when I got an email from Chris asking me to meet him in his office. It was late, and I wasn't sure what he wanted to discuss, but I didn't dare ignore the request.

"Come in," his voice called out, sounding more tired than usual.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. He looked up as I entered, his expression unreadable as always, but there was something different in his eyes, something almost weary.

"You wanted to see me, Mr Larsen?" I asked, my voice quieter than usual in the stillness of the office.

He nodded, gesturing for me to sit. "Yes, Emily. I needed to discuss the latest data set with you." He leaned back in his chair. "It's been a long day, and I'm afraid I've hit a wall with this analysis."

I hesitated, surprised by his admission. Chris was usually so self-assured, so in control, that it was strange to see him like this. "What seems to be the problem?"

He handed me a stack of papers across the desk, and I quickly scanned through them. "The patterns here are inconsistent," he said, a note of frustration in his voice. "I've tried to make sense of it, but nothing seems to fit. I was hoping a fresh perspective might help."

I nodded, studying the data more closely. "These cases don't align with the others. The variables are all over the place. It's almost as if" I paused, thinking. "As if we're looking at a completely different subset of subjects."

Chris's eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward. "Go on."

I bit my lip, considering my next words carefully. "What if we're not dealing with outliers, but rather a different population altogether? Maybe there's a factor we haven't considered, something that differentiates these individuals from the rest."

Chris was silent for a moment, his gaze intense as he considered my suggestion. "That's an interesting theory," he said slowly. "If that's the case, it could explain why the usual patterns don't apply."

It was the first time I'd seen him genuinely intrigued by something I'd said, and it gave me a small surge of confidence. "Maybe we should look at the demographic data again," I suggested. "There might be a common thread we've missed."

He nodded, already pulling up files on his computer. "Let's do that."

For the next hour, we worked side by side, analyzing the data with renewed focus. Chris was still his usual demanding self, but there was something different tonight, he was listening, engaging with my ideas, and even offering insights in a way that felt more collaborative than before.

Finally, as the clock ticked past midnight, Chris leaned back in his chair and sighed. "You were right," he said, almost grudgingly. "There is a pattern here. It's subtle, but it's there."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of satisfaction. "I'm glad we figured it out."

He gave me a long look, and for the first time, I thought I saw a hint of respect in his eyes. "You've done good work, Emily," he said quietly. "You have a sharp mind. Don't let anyone, including me, make you doubt that."

The words caught me off guard, and I felt a warmth spread through me, a mixture of pride and relief. "Thank you, Mr Larsen," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

He nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. "Get some rest. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

As I gathered my things and prepared to leave, I couldn't help but glance back at him. There was still so much I didn't understand about Chris.

I stepped out into the hallway and as I walked back to my dorm, I felt a sense of accomplishment, but also something more, a connection, however small, with the man who had seemed so unreachable.