Chapter 1
- SCOTT -
Scott blinks, the screen he's staring at goes black before he hears a dull thud. Two very different panics bubble up at once and Scott instinctively prioritises.
"Cassie?" he bends to peek under the desk at his six year old daughter, now splayed on the floor face-first in the carpet. There's no crying so that's a good sign, but Scott bolts out of his chair and is at her side in seconds. "Peanut, are you okay?"
Cassie makes a strangled sound that's somewhere between a groan and a whine.
"I tripped on the wire."
She looks up then, big brown eyes meeting Scott's. There's still no crying, just a little red patch on her forehead where it grazed the textured carpet. She seems more annoyed and pouty than anything, so Scott just helps her up and kisses her temple. The second panic quickly makes its way back to the forefront of his mind. He plugs the power cord back in to reboot the computer and races back to his seat.
"I'm sorry, daddy. Did I break it?"
"No no, the computer just turned off because the plug got loose when you tripped on it. I just have to plug it back in and turn it on. Good as new. See?" Scott turns the monitor so that Cassie can see the loading screen. She grins at him, toothy and wide, his favourite thing in the whole world. "I just have to do something really quick, then we can go to Uncle Luis' for dinner, okay? Go change your clothes and get ready." Cassie nods enthusiastically and bounds out of the room like an energiser bunny.
Scott fixes his attention back on the monitor. He was disconnect for what, five minutes? Surely it doesn't make a difference. Surely!
He groans into his palm when the screen loads through and the list of electives is far shorter than it was before. A quick cross check with the list on his notebook tells him that every single elective he was considering - from easy picks he knew he would ace, to those he actually had some semblance of interest in, mild or otherwise - are already full. His remaining options are a reject mix of airy fairy art electives, some units with names he can't even begin to understand, and worst of all, a plethora of biology units. Biology, Scott's least favourite science. He's done his fair share of biology throughout his degree - only the core ones in his first year that they won't let him graduate without completing, but that's already one too many for Scott. As far as he's concerned, the three basic sciences are physics, chemistry and mathematics.
He shuffles through the list slowly because clearly people aren't racing to pick these electives up. When he confirms he's not especially interested in any one of them, he figures the process of elimination will speed up his decision-making. Art units are out of the question because he doesn't think they're relevant to his degree. He crosses out biology because absolutely not. The remaining three units are more towards a gray area for Scott. First, transdisciplinary pedagogies. His brain short circuits for a moment when he rereads it. After some digging through google and the unit handbook, Scott pieces together that it's an education degree unit but he still doesn't understand half of what he's reading on the webpage, so he scratches it off the list. Next, just straight up torts. The screen makes it out to be a super serious law unit but Scott just finds the name incredibly silly. Finally, quantum physics. He sort of gets it, well, he's heard of it at least. The term has been thrown around in the many lectures and symposiums he's attended, but as an electrical engineering major, Scott has never really had to cross into that realm of lofty, obscure science. At least not in a way that really counted. Even so, it feels like his best option at the moment because he at least knows what quantum physics is. Realistically speaking, he only really knows one of those two words, but he's hoping he lands the best professor that can make the quantum side of things clearer, enrolls himself in the unit, and opts to eat his weight in enchiladas at Luis' for the rest of the night.
It doesn't happen. Of course it doesn't. In fact, Scott arrives at his first quantum physics class and finds out it's an advanced unit - as in, every other person sitting in the room has done at least one other unit of specifically quantum shit, except for him. Great. The professor, Hank Pym, is a no-nonsense old man who talks about superposition in a raspy drawl that Scott still can't quite follow. All he can think about is how fast he could say 'superposition' without mucking the syllables up while the rest of the class nods along like this isn't the first time they are hearing the word.
"You should get tutor," Kurt later suggests over lunch.
Scott gets through another three lectures and attends his first tutorial before he takes Kurt's suggestion seriously. If he thought being silently confused in a sea of know-it-alls was humiliating, having to work with them on questions he didn't know the slightest thing about was the nail in the coffin.
"Hello. I'm looking for a tutor for one of my electives," Scott tells the lady at the front desk of Student Services, "I was told there was some kind of app for it?"
"It's a portal," the lady says without missing a beat as Scott scans her person and desk for some kind of nametag. She pulls out a sheet of paper from under her desk and hands it to Scott. "You sign up, enter in the unit code you're needing help with, pick a tutor, then wait for their response. If they decide to accept you, they'll arrange a consultation with you to create a lesson plan that suits your needs and addresses your weaker topics. You have to pay at least two days before every scheduled session through the portal. Details are on the paper."
Scott tries to skim through the information sheet quickly while she speaks. "What if my weaker topics make up the entire unit?"
He looks up from the paper after a moment of silence and finds the lady is staring him down, unimpressed.
"Kidding, obviously," he grins with an exaggerated eyeroll and thanks the lady for the help.
That's how he finds hope. Literally and figuratively. The Hope who would give him hope of crossing this meandering quantum river. In his mind, anything quantum looks a little bit like space - swirly milky ways and exploding stars, beautiful but too big to comprehend.
"'Too big' is maybe not the word I would use," Hope says calmly at their consultation session. "'Too small to comprehend' would be more accurate, but you're not totally wrong. Quantum physics and astrophysics share some commonalities."
She was the only one who agreed to tutor him even after he bluntly answered 'everything' under 'topics needing support' in the tutor request form. They had corresponded through the online portal first, messaging back and forth about Scott's actual problem areas and Hope's additional terms and conditions on top of the standard contract. She had rules so specific that only someone with experience would think to set. Scott wonders what kind of people she tutored before him and whether she always had this list, or if it was born of necessity from creepy students.
1. All tutoring sessions will be held online through a video conferencing app, no in-person tutoring sessions.
2. All tutoring sessions will be strictly work-focused at all times. Discussion of personal matters not pertaining to the unit content is not permitted.
3. Any support with assignments will only be provided through answers. The student is expected to come prepared with questions if they have any.
4. Both parties can withdraw from the tutoring contract at any time without providing a reason, but once the decision is made, it cannot be revoked.
In their consultation, Hope asks a lot of questions. Scott mostly just answers and studies her through the screen. Her camera quality is excellent with barely any sign of lag. She's well prepared too, flipping through her notepad sequentially in an almost clinically organised fashion. It's a little mesmerising to watch her work.
"Scott?"
Scott snaps out of his thoughts and blinks at Hope. "Uh, yeah?"
Hope watches him for a moment, then repeats herself. "How many lessons do you think you'll need?"
"How many lessons do you think it'll take to learn quantum physics from scratch?"
"You're an engineering major. Physics was a core subject in your foundation years. You've done physics units."
"Full disclosure, I listened to maybe half of them. The useful half like the ones that start with 'electro-' because I'm, you know, an electrical engineer."
"Quantum mechanics has extensive applications in electrical engineering, especially at the lowest scales. You do know that lasers are quantum mechanical devices, right? Surely you've worked with one before."
"Yes," Scott sighs, "but I didn't have to know the nitty gritty of it. I just had to know how to use it without losing a finger." He lifts both hands into frame and wiggles his fingers. "All intact!" he announces and grins.
Hope raises an eyebrow, the most expressive he's seen her so far, then starts writing in her notepad. He can't see the words but he bets her handwriting is neat and definitively un-chicken-scratch-like. "I'll put you down for weekly sessions then. Are you fine with that?"
Scott shrugs but realises she's not looking at him. "Yeah, weekly sessions are good."
They settle on Thursdays at 4pm for an hour and a half each time, which works out perfectly for Scott because he has enough time to pick Cassie up from school before the sessions start, and enough time to cook dinner after the sessions end without it getting too late.
At their first session, Scott brings the unit syllabus and has completed the readings for his first assignment so that he comes with questions as Hope asked. He's tasked with conducting a presentation about a concrete example of quantum mechanics - taking a large scale phenomenon and whittling it down to the fundamental quantum properties and concepts that explain how it works. Scott decides to do it on lasers, just to coerce a partial eyeroll from Hope, but he can see the slight upturn in the corner of her lips.
They manage to get through a big chunk of the first topic Professor Pym went through in class, although Scott's still falling behind. They wrap up the first session with Scott's laser assignment questions. To Hope's credit, she actually takes him seriously and whizzes through them quickly but clearly, double checks with Scott when she has an inkling he might not fully understand what she's saying, and rephrases her words to get the point across even if it takes multiple tries. She's methodical in a way that could easily come across as type A and uptight, but she's also patient and attentive, with soft green eyes that crinkle when she smiles and nods every time Scott says he finally gets something.
"Well done for today. I think we might be able to catch up with your classes by our fourth session, if you keep up with the readings and the questions."
"Thanks, Hope."
"You're welcome, Scott. See you next week."