Caleb looked down at his circled number as if it might advise him. “My contest is in three weeks,” he said. “Not this sheet. A real one. In the middle school gym. They give you a pencil that is already sharp, which is suspicious. If I see a remainder that can’t exist, I’ll remember you. Even if you’re still here. Being here isn’t the bad version. My coach says a lot of people who are good at math don’t look like the movies. He has a sweatshirt with a hole in it. He is also scary in a nice way.”
“Remember the mathematics,” Emily said. “Not me. The mathematics has better hours.”
“That’s a slogan,” Denise said, unexpectedly. “You don’t seem like a woman who trusts slogans. Remember both, Caleb. It is allowed to remember a person who was decent to you at a table. It does not obligate her to become your tutor or your myth.”
She looked at Emily then, and the look was almost gentle, which sat awkwardly on her face and was therefore convincing. “We will not make you a myth,” she said. “I promise you that much. I have seen what this town does with a story about a genius hiding in an apron. It would be unbearable, and it would be inaccurate. You are not hiding. You are working. Those are different. And you are not a genius in the carnival sense. You are trained, and you are kind, and the combination startled me. I would like to pay for the pie and the lunch and the time. I would also like, if you are willing, to tell you something that is not a favor and not a summons. There is a Saturday program at the community college in the spring. Enrichment, they call it, which is a word I dislike. They are always short of people who can sit with children who are quick and anxious and who copy a twelve onto a two. I know a person on the committee because I built their dental wing and they still return my calls. I will not send your name unless you ask. I will not ask you to ask. I am putting the fact on the table next to the cinnamon. You may ignore it.”