The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

20 : Work

Kimberly

He's late.

I'm sitting outside of the church, where Benjamin and I agreed to meet. It's Saturday and we'll work on those interviews, so we can move along with our project. Since it's the focal point of the town proper, this is the ideal place to start.

A group of old ladies the age of my grandmother passes by where I am. I see a car pulling out of the parking area of the plaza. A young couple sits on a concrete bench underneath an old tree, where a group of sparrows is flying around. The sky is clear of any indication of rain. The clouds are fluffy, and the sky is blue, but it's not the summer kind that I longed for and love.

We're supposed to meet at one o'clock because he had to be at the school in the morning for their Math Circle training thing, which they'd been having since September. But he's late. And I'm waiting for approximately ten minutes already.

"Sorry, I'm late," a voice from behind me brings me to my feet.

He walks around and stands there looking sincerely apologetic.

I eye Benjamin from head to foot. He's wearing a black polo shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers. Then I instantly cover my mouth and try to conceal a hideous giggle because I, too, am wearing a black polo shirt, blue jeans, and my only pair of sneakers is, of course, white.

"What?" he asks.

"We...um...we match," I say as I point my finger to our shirts.

He smiles with that beaming smile that resembles sunshine. And I mentally remind myself to focus and not give in to those accompanying radiant eyes just yet because we have work to do. I can melt into a puddle of dorkiness over my crush later on. 

We walk out of the church compound and into the sidewalks, navigating the small town in short and careful footsteps. He's on my right, nearer to the edge by the road.

"Is your training every Saturday?" I ask him out of curiosity for I remember when my brother went through something similar years ago. But it wasn't a weekly thing, or maybe it was just him because my brother's the type who can sleep on lectures and still get perfect scores on tests. He didn't need the training.

"Only when the teachers slash coaches are free," Benjamin replies. "Usually, it's after classes," he adds, "'cause they're more motivated this time. The school hasn't reached any national-level quiz bees since...your brother."

The roads here are narrow and a bit risky for pedestrians, so we stop in front of a small pharmacy while we wait for a ten-wheeler truck to pass.

"Well, maybe this time you will," I say, intentionally avoiding eye contact.

We resume our walk.

"You should've joined the Math Circle," he tells me after we pass by a small convenience store.

I laugh a little at that. "Why should I?"

"Why not?"

I look down at the pavement. "It's not my thing," I reply.

"But you're good at Math."

I almost trip and stop. Then I look at him directly this time. He did not say the dreadful comparative word that I hear from people most of the time. He did not say also.

"But I'd rather spend my Saturday mornings in a fictional world than solve abstract math problems."

"Okay," he says with a smile. "Which world were you in earlier?"

"Middle-earth."

We're now in front of the first establishment on our agenda this afternoon. He steps ahead, stands right by the glass door, and holds on to it. He angles his head a little slightly upward and flashes a boyish grin.