Stella tried not to focus too hard on the fact that Eddie had just said she was right about something. No big deal because she had
been right, regardless of whether or not he agreed. This wasn’t
history they were studying, it was math. Although, she wouldn’t be surprised if she went to him at some point for tutoring in history. If this went well enough, maybe Stella would just find Eddie whenever she needed help with her schoolwork. She bothered him a lot already, surely he wouldn’t mind if their hangouts were a bit more academic sometimes?
God, who even was she anymore.
Stella didn’t pay enough attention to her surroundings to notice Eddie going stiff beside her. It was a good thing, probably, lest her insecurities get the best of her. She hadn’t forgotten her days of being too over the top. She’d been too loud back then, too obnoxious, too much. She’d been the definition of Extra™ before it’d even become an actual thing. She was better now, she thought, thanks to Eddie and Pennie and Nahnie. That didn’t mean her anxieties suddenly went away, though. Blinking hard, once twice, to clear her thoughts, Stella focused back on Eddie. That was not a path she wanted to head down today.
Propping her chin up on her hand, Stella listened intently. She could do this. Her place on the Track team depended on this grade. “Okay,” she said, doing her very best to be patient, even as her leg began to bounce up and down. She appreciated him for making this as simple as he could. … Despite their tradition and the slight twitch of her fingers, Stella laughed. A short, quiet laugh, but one nonetheless. “Shut up,” she told him again, almost fondly, before digging through her bag for her notes. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the library, maybe it was that there could be humor found in math of all things.
“They’re not very good,” she admitted, “though I’ve got them organized best I can.” It was probably the nicest system Stella had for anything. Since her notes tended to be sporadic and messy, she’d taken to adding tabs to each page and labeling that tab what was written on the page. Complex Planes was written on four of them, scattered throughout the notebook. She flipped open to the first, cringing at her handwriting; it wasn’t ineligible, per say, but she wrote so quickly, most of it wouldn’t make much sense to anybody besides her. “Um… sorry if it’s hard to read.”
Stella could picture Eddie’s notes now: written in pen probably, even lines and bullet points, sharp numbers and graphs. She couldn’t help the wistful sigh at the very thought of being able to easily navigate one’s notes.