Chapter 2
- HOPE -
Hope turns her webcam off and immediately sets to work on the plan for her next session with Scott. By the time she strolls downstairs into the kitchen, her mother's already got dinner going. The place smells like warm toasted cheesy bread.
"Hi sweetheart."
"Hi mom, need any help?"
"I'm just about done but could you help me set the table? Your father will be home any minute now."
Hope steals a few cherry tomatoes from the bowl of fresh salad on her way to the dining table. The clinging of keys at the front door signals her father's arrival home.
After they settle down for dinner - a spread of pizza, garlic bread, salad and red wine - they take turns to talk about their day. When it's Hope's turn, she talks about her thesis on quantum computation, using Grover's algorithm to facilitate efficiency, and Scott.
"The kid who doesn't belong in my class?"
"Dad," Hope chides.
"I can tell when someone is dreaming right in front of me, Hope."
"He's a fast learner once he understands the basics. He just needs someone to explain it to him clearly."
"So you're saying I'm not a clear teacher..." Hank hums.
"No," Hope interjects immediately and looks to her mother. "I didn't say that."
"It was implied."
"Hank," Janet places a hand on his arm and looks back at Hope. "Your father's just messing with you. I, for one, think it's great that you've decided to get back into tutoring." Hope winces internally at the memory of why she stopped in the first place. "I'm proud of you, sweetheart."
At Janet's pointed look, Hank sighs begrudgingly. "I guess I can hold back from asking him questions and humiliating him in front of everyone in my lecture hall until he's up to speed."
Hope rolls her eyes but smiles anyway. "Thanks, dad."
The week flies by. Hope passes it how she always does, cooped up in the lab, triple checking datasets and quadruple checking equipment. When Thursday rolls around, she has to dig out an old textbook from the study that she hasn't looked at since her first year to run through the concept of superposition with Scott.
She's mid-way in her explanation of the coin-toss analogy when there's a high-pitched squeal from Scott's end of the video call. Hope peers up curiously and Scott looks half mortified, half worried.
"Peanut, what's wrong?"
He's talking to someone off screen. Someone short, Hope deduces, because Scott is seated but still looking down when he speaks to the unnamed person. The term of endearment he uses - at least she thinks it's a term of endearment - suggests it might be a dog, or a small child.
"I spilled juice on my dress." The voice is more pout than speech, words tumbled into one another as a mumble.
Scott looks back at the screen apologetically and rubs at the back of his neck. "Sorry, Hope-" he starts, but Hope is already shaking her head.
"Don't worry about it, Scott. I'll wait."
"It'll just take a minute." Then he mutes himself and gets out of his seat. Hope catches a glimpse of the little hand that pops into frame to grab Scott's before his camera is turned off as well.
Hope disables her camera and microphone, pondering in her seat. She isn't supposed to find out about Scott having a little kid in his house. She isn't supposed to be sitting there, wondering if that's his daughter, or his niece, or a random child he's somehow associated with. This defeats the entire purpose of rule number 2 under her personal terms and conditions. Though in this case, it's hard to point fingers because Scott was blindsided and the only other person to blame is a literal child.
"Sorry," Scott's voice filters through her earphones as he turns his camera back on. "I'm back."
Hope does the same and brushes the interruption off, backtracking to the coin-toss analogy. Despite the hiccup, they make good progress in this second session. Scott can already make connections between broader scientific concepts and fundamental quantum theories.
"Are you on track with your presentation for next Wednesday?"
"Oh yeah, of course. I've got a whole LED light show planned. It's going to be amazing. You should come watch."
Hope has to shut her eyes and take a deep breath at that. She's almost positive Scott is using LEDs interchangeably with lasers just to tease a reaction out of her.
"If you fail the assignment, maybe your professor will kick you out of the unit and you won't have to worry about it anymore."
"Or, maybe he'll make me retake the unit again next semester because I failed a hurdle requirement and you can tutor me for another four months."
Hope chuckles and shakes her head, amused. "Don't blind anyone at your light show, Scott. I'll see you next week."
"See you next week, Hope."
On Wednesday, she receives a message through the portal as she's working on computing functions and formulae in the lab - the chat with Scott that neither of them have spoken in since they started formal tutoring. It's a photo of some kind of glass ball. She taps the image to enlarge it and upon closer observation, realises that it's a glass sphere with an extremely detailed ant model laser etched inside it.
The text below the image reads: 'Ant-thony says hi. He didn't blind anyone, so that's a bonus.'
Hope rolls her eyes but smiles despite herself and bites her bottom lip to hide it as she looks around the lab. When she confirms she's alone, Hope looks back at the picture and sighs. It's outside of their designated tutoring hours but it's about the unit, so it's not technically breaking rule number 2, is it? She knows she's making excuses but can't bring herself to tell him off when he seems so genuine.
She replies: 'It's beautiful. Well done, Scott.'