Draft: To Be Edited

Part #2

"So, memorization?"

You break the silence that you've been holding since Collin left the room, minutes ago. You're still looking down at the cube in your hand, as if staring at it will bore a hole inside the object; as if the phrase were realistic, and not an exaggeration. The only reason you know to speak, was because you hear footsteps coming down the hall to your left. These were easily heard with the battered wooden door, who's posters covered the chipping and dirty white paint, standing wide open. Along with the footsteps and approaching of the boy, your nose also catches the distinguishable smell of grease, cheese, sauce, and bread: pizza.

"Mmm?" Collin arrives at the door, and, behold! A pizza box is in his hand, with a bag of puffy garlic bread sticks atop the box. You can't control yourself when your mouth instantly begins to water, your stomach churning and growling as if waking up from a long nap. You're hungry.

But, though your stomach howls for sustenance, you keep it at bay. You're hungry, but you're also curious. "Memorization." You say. "Memorize the order," You continue, "and you solve the puzzle?" You ask, looking up at Collin.

He looks down at you, having stopped in front of his doorway. He seems to have a look on his face to say he's taken aback by your question. The next moment, though, he's walking to the table on the left in the room, and your head swivels to follow him. You're now looking forward. He nods, as he places the food on the table.

"Yes. Memorize the order in which a problem is to be solved, and you complete the problem faster." He pauses. "Well, faster than you would if you didn't know the order."

You look down at the cube, twisting it in your hand. "Does it work for any other problem, besides just one kind?" You ask, not taking your eyes off the object.

"I guess that would depend," He answers, sitting at the table. His book resumes its place in front of him. Books over pizza? You probably couldn't choose one over the other.

"On what?" You press, because he obviously isn't finishing his sentence any time soon. That's another thing, with Collin. Unfinished sentences.

"Well, on whatever problem or problems you're trying to figure out." He sounds a bit agitated, and you lean back a bit, as if that signifies relaxation on the subject. You've clearly messed with the conversation, and haven't gotten out any of the right questions. You bite on your bottom lip. "For example," You can tell he's a bit frustrated now, or he wouldn't continue the conversation. "The method of solving an equation to find the slope of a line on a graph, wouldn't be the same method, as finding out, say, the depth of a lake." You can tell he's tried to tone things down for you: if it'd been his choice (well, it was), he would have said something so complex, you'd try for weeks to figure out what he meant, and give up in the end. This happened a lot, with Collin. But it was nice of him to tone things down, at the moment. He's looking at you, but you're still staring down at the rubix cube.

"Hmm.." You really don't have much of an answer. "What about these cubes?" You ask, holding up the object in front of your face.

"What about them?" He exhales, turns back in his chair, and looks down at his book. He flips a page.

"Do they all have the same order?" You ask. "To solve, I mean." You pause, to give yourself time to think. "Are there different orders, and maybe you-", You stop, "we," You correct, "only know one of those orders?"

"I'm sure if there were more, I'd know more, if not all, of them." He still looks down at his book. His voice sounds as though he's lost interest in the conversation.

You bite your lip once more. You've steered the conversation down the wrong lane, again. "So, there is only one order to solve this?" You hold out the cube, looking hopefully up at Collin. You don't know why you're so desperate to salvage what's been left of the conversation.

"They're mass produced." He says.

You can hear the screeching of tires as your conversation collides to a halt.