"Nice to meet you." "Charmed." (summer&zack)

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

The Dining Hall was... noisy. It normally wasn’t this busy, actually, but today it just seemed like the place to be. Summer would’ve gone elsewhere for lunch but it was cold outside. She wasn’t going to go out and freeze for the sake of food. Her decision to eat here though was definitely not a good one.

Most of the tables were taken and so she’d have to sit with somebody she didn’t know. Fabulous. Thankfully, the lines to get food wasn’t long. It seemed that the students just wanted to sit around. An annoyed sigh escaped her. Hurrying through the options, she simply grabbed a Nestea and an apple. Her appetite had left her once she’d stepped into the Dining Hall. Paying for the food, she turned to face the tables and froze. How frustrating. Glancing around, she looked for the first person who looked friendly enough to sit with.

There was a brown haired boy over there with a book. Maybe she’d just sit there and not bother him. Unless of course he was reading something interesting and then she could strike up a conversation. Weaving her way through the tables, she finally arrived at his. Clearing her throat, Summer asked over the noise of conversations, “could I sit here?”

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack glanced up from "Linear Transcendentals of Multivariable Calculus", a moderate-sized textbook he'd nipped from the University chem lab the other day, and had been chipping away at since breakfast this morning. His hands and body were mechanically shoveling sausage and rice into his mouth, but his mind was far away in the land of partial derivatives, surface integrals, and euclidean vectors. His eyes were blank and far away, his face carrying the usual disinterested expression that occupied his features most of the day.

As he glanced around the cafeteria, he caught sight of a skinny, brown-haired girl elbowing through the clusters of tables and chairs, eyes fixated on...him. Here comes a party. He hoped it wasn't a freshman begging the school hottie for help with her pre-algebra homework, or even worse, a senior begging the school hottie for help with her pre-algebra homework. He closed his eyes and tried to re-enter the void of numbers and variables he'd built up for himself over the past hour.

A shrill creak of wood upon wood echoed through his mind. Someone pulling a chair out. Zack's lips moved silently as he sifted through enormous spectrums of data in his mind. Then, like a spear piercing through his unconscious mind, a voice vibrated from everywhere and nowhere.

"Could I sit here?"

Zack had been buried up to his neck int he process of multiplying two enormous numbers together in his head when the voice jerked him violently back to reality. Before him stood the girl: tall, with soft brown eyes and soft, thistly hair. He gave her a quick scan. Her feet were clad in sensible flats: not high heels, but also not tennis shoes. So she was active, but not quite athletic. He next noticed the medium-sized bag over her left shoulder. Books, or so he could perceive from the shape of the bulges near the bottom and the angle that her shoulder drooped at as it shouldered the weight. A bookworm. A writer too, if the letters scribbled on the backs of her hands in sickly green sharpie were anything to go by.

She was probably an unintelligent flake. Just like everyone else. But it couldn't hurt. Zack sighed. "Sure." He tapped the textbook with his index finger, and a flurry of dust shot into the air. "But I gotta warn you, this aint Meg Cabot."

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

Summer almost regretted pulling the chair out. First of all, it'd probably been rude of her especially since her hadn't answered yet. Second, the book was about math. Calculus, to be precise. She hoped that he wouldn't bring it up. If there was one thing she hated to talk about, it was math. Especially if the person tried to shove it down her throat.

She watched as his eyes traveled up, down. God, he was either a pervert or he thought he was better than everybody else. Which would mean that he certainly didn't want her sitting with him. She felt her own eyes narrow a bit, slightly annoyed. But that was wrong. She wasn't giving him a chance and if she were in his position, she'd probably have done the same.

Deciding it couldn't hurt to check him, she found that he wasn't bad looking. Tousled brown hair, hazel eyes. He was tall, too, she noticed even though he was sitting. But for some reason, he didn't look as old as her. With that math though, he must be a senior. Or just a genius. His clothes were general though not something she saw everyday. He presented himself well, was one way she could've put it.

Him speaking brought her eyes back up to his and she smiled, grateful. "Thanks," she said, sitting down. She set the drink and her apple on the table before letting her bag slide off of her shoulder and onto the floor. A relieved sigh escaped her as the weight disappeared. That was much better.

Twisting the cap open, she took a sip before setting it down and narrowing her eyes again. Wasn't Meg Cabot? Well. Putting the cap back on she turned her gaze away, feeling it'd be rude to glare. As thought before, she barely knew him and wasn't really giving him a chance. Besides, she didn't even like Meg Cabot. Turning back to look at him, she felt the need to defend herself.

"The only Meg Cabot book I've ever read was that awful 'How to be Popular' one," she scoffed and rolled her eyes. Awful was to nice of an adjective. "I won't be picking up another one of hers for the rest of my life," she finished, biting into her apple and looking away from him again. In fact, the book was on the fourth page of her list and hadn't even gotten a score on her rating of how good it was. Really, it was that awful.

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack was barely listening as the girl opened her mouth to deliver some kind of lecture. He closed his eyes and tried to draw up the numbers he had been calculating a second before, but they seemed to have vanished from his memory. Was it f of x plus a squared minus f of x over b squared? Or a squared plus b squared over f of x? The second one sounded right. Zack ran some numbers in his head, then flipped to the back of the textbook to check his answer, even though he was more than one hundred percent sure of its authenticity. He smiled to himself as he flipped back to his page. Just one more assurance of his sheer genius. This pathetic "Honors Math" course was going to be a walk in the park. He wondered how long it would take the teacher to accept his utter grasp of every concept in the cirriculum, and allow him to read in class. This particular one was slower on the uptake than most, but Zack was confident she would crack eventually. They always did.

Zack briefly relaxed into reality to rest his brain after the strenuous computations. He noticed that the girl was still talking, something about Meg Cabot. He rolled his eyes. Of course. She would jump on his every word, make Himalayas out of anthills. What a juvenile. what an adolescent. This girl was just like all the rest.

Of course, he hadn't really talked to this girl. He hadn't given her a chance. Maybe he could open up to her, he thought to himself, as he stared into her distant, dreamy face, like he'd opened up to Anab-but his unconscious mind gave him a sharp mental prod, preventing him from even thinking the name, from allowing the emotions and memories to flood in and consume his consciousness. No. This girl wasn't any different. He'd seen ones like her before: they were all the same, parallel lines stretching through an infinite plane.

The girl had stopped talking. Zack looked her over again. Well, why not? he thought to himself. He needed to establish his standings, the ground rules of this interaction. There would be no underestimation here, no level playing field. And the sooner this girl came to accept her inferiority, the better. Zack grinned to himself. This was going to be fun. He would toy with her, play her like a piano, and she would never know what had hit her.

Zack sighed, rocked his chair back onto two legs, and folded his hands behind his head. "So," he murmured, straining to keep a straight face. "How 'bout those Laplace Differential Operators?"

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

Summer hadn't been paying enough attention to him and even if she had noticed him ignoring her, she didn't care. She was here to have her lunch and then she'd leave. Glancing back towards him, she looked at the book as he flipped to the back. Just the thought of being in a math that advanced made her shudder. The subject was horrible, absolutely horrible. She'd most likely never use half of it in her life. So, why was she learning about it? She sighed an annoyed sort of sigh, propping her elbow up on the table and resting her chin on her hand. The appetite she'd lost earlier was long gone now.

The Dining Hall was still just as loud as before. It was starting to give her a headache. Summer rolled her eyes. The students at this school were obnoxious. A lot of them, she couldn't even be friends with without wanting to scream at them. Luckily, she'd managed to avoid them as her roommate. Annabelle was definitely the sort of person she'd be friends with. Shooting a glance towards the brown-haired boy, Summer decided that he probably wasn't the type. There she went again, though. Judging a book by it's cover. That was so unlike her.

Tuning back in as he spoke, Summer figured she should probably think less when sitting with someone. She never knew when they might say something. This time, though, she should've continued thinking, just so she could've ignored that. Laplace diff-what? Summer almost let her head fall to the table. Of course he'd talk about math. Of. Course.

She lowered her arm and stared at him for a minute. What was she supposed to say? Without sounding stupid? There was nothing she could say. This kid was obviously some genius who skipped a bunch of grades. Summer groaned and went back to resting her chin on her hand. Well, here goes. "I have no idea what that means."
Just the way she said the sentence voiced her hatred of the subject.

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack actually grinned. So she hadn't tried to make up some kind of answer, hadn't tried to pretend to be a know-it-all. This was a new symptom. Interesting, very interesting indeed. Though his opinion of her had yet to be swayed, he had to admit he was intrigued. Very intrigued. This girl was like a multilinear algebraic equation with two variables missing: it drew him in like a magnet, no matter how much he tried to resist. He disliked her, but he found that with every second he spent with her, he was disliking her marginally less than he disliked all the other people in the world. She was a puzzle, and he wanted to figure her out.

So she wasn't a mathematician. Interesting. That road could branch off in one of two directions. One, she wasn't smart. Which didn't seem likely from the enormous bookbag slouching on the floor. Or two, she was hiding something. Which also didn't seem likely. Considering the two or three sentences she'd spoken to him, she didn't seem quite the conspiratorial type. The uppity sort never were. Zack stuck a dollar bill in his book to save his place, then closed it gently, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fists.

"A bookworm, eh? Snazzy." He was pretty sure she would miss the sarcasm he'd layered into his tone. "Fiction, fantasy, fairies? I do simply adore that Cinderella." He flashed a smile to emphasize, angling his face at just the right 81 degree angle so that his teeth would catch the light, producing a Kodak-worthy glint.

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

He was smiling. What was so funny about what she'd said? Summer looked away and tried not to scoff. He was annoying. It'd only been a couple of minutes and she'd kept telling herself to give him a chance. With every second she spent here, though, she was beginning to like him less and less. It may have been judgmental and wrong, but he was pushing all of the wrong buttons. Whether or not he knew it. Summer hated to make assumptions with people but sometimes there was just a type that she automatically didn't like. There was just something about them that completely turned her off.

He moved and she turned her gaze back towards him. The book was closed now and he was leaning towards her. She grabbed her bottle of tea and took another gulp before setting it down beside her bag. Sitting back up, she leaned back in her chair, feeling some urge to stretch. A bookworm? She rose an eyebrow and glanced down to her bag. She wouldn't lie. A bookworm was definitely the best way to describe her. God, there he went again, pushing those buttons. There was just something, some way that he spoke, that bugged her. Maybe it was that she didn't want to sound like an idiot. This didn't make sense to her because she didn't care what he thought. And she hated when things didn't make sense.

"Cinderella?" Summer repeated, a slightly annoyed tone beneath the word. Summer rolled her eyes. Cinderella certainly wasn't her favorite Disney princess, but she wasn't nearly as bad as Snow White. Summer loathed Snow White. He smiled then, one of those picture-worthy smiles or whatever. "I don't like her." Maybe the fact that her replies weren't very thorough would cause him to have less to say. Which would, maybe, make him seem as if he wasn't as high and mighty as he thought he was. In her eyes, anyway.

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack rolled his eyes. There she goes again, jumping on my every word. Everything I say can and will be used against me. Nice. He almost grinned again, but he kept the glee in check. He liked this girl. Not exactly her looks, which were nondescript, nor her personality, from which he'd really only had a sampling, a taste. But the taste had whetted his appetite, and he was coming back for more. What he liked about this girl was the challenge she presented. He couldn't wait to crack her code.

"Not a Cinderella fan, eh?" He cracked his knuckles as if preparing to enact an elaborate scheme. In actuality, he had never even considered watching the movie. Personally, Zack considered animated movies appalling potboilers. Not to mention the books, whose existence he hadn't even known about until a few weeks ago when he'd been browsing titles at the library and come across Mulan. Honestly, what was the world coming to? “How about physics?” he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face. At last, he was forcing the battle into his own territory.

“You know, Summer, there’s a big world out there. Big and cruel and full of naughty, naughty little atoms that simply explode if used in the wrong context.” He closed his eyes and inhaled softly, as if smelling a bouquet of flowers. Before him, he could see the numbers unfolding like rolls of wrapping paper off the cardboard tube, thousands and thousands of letters, symbols and figures stretching out to infinity in front, behind, and on all sides. Numbers he could memorize, analyze, and compute with his brain.

“Ever travelled through time?” he asked, eyes still closed. His voice was different, weighed down as if by the burden of the millennia. “Last night I wrote an equation that can do that.” Suddenly his eyes shot open, and he was all business again.

“All theoretical of course, as most noetical partical physics is these days. All time really is is a bunch of strings stretching infinitely through space. Time and space are, in fact synonymous, and make up the world. In fact, the electrons and quarks within are not zero dimensional objects, but one-dimensional strings. Points, but not points. These strings carry the ability, theoretically, anyway, to move and vibrate, in effect arbitrarily assigning polarity and mass to the atom in question. And here’s the good part: they can all vibrate at completely different resonant frequencies. Nifty, huh?”

Zack flashed an attractive smile. “Basically, an extension of Newton’s Theory of Relativity. I came up with it in physics class yesterday.” Actually, he’d come up with it right then and there, on the spot. He congratulated himself silently. An interesting concept,he thought. I’ll have to write that down back in the dorm. He paused, the smile wavering. “Oh wait. Was that Einstein’s theory?” He scratched his chin. “I always mix them up.”

After a second, he shrugged. "But whatever. In actuality, time is of the essence, the substance that creates everything, even you and me. But to travel through it, one would have to shrink down to smaller than the size of a single quark..no easy feat." If that girl had understood a word he’d just said, he’d donate seven million dollars to the Haiti relief effort. But the way she played this would dictate his opinion of her moving forward. He smiled in anticipation.

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

Summer had stopped listening before he was even halfway through his little long and boring speech. Something about physics. That's all she'd caught. Probably him going on and on about how much of a genius he was or whatever. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Did he really think she was going to listen to this? Even if it did make sense (which it certainly did not), she wouldn't listen. This was boring.

He knew her name. This one thing caught her attention before she tuned out again. Did she know his? She'd been attending Frank L Baum Academy for three and a half years now. She knew almost everybody on a first name basis. What was it? Well, this would definitely bug her. She listened again for a moment before realizing he hadn't shut up stopped talking. Now was a good time to remember his name. Adam, Josh, Derek. Random names raced by. She had to know this. What did he look like? A Dustin, Anthony, Drake? No, Drake was that druggie she didn't really like. Phillip, Luke, Jack, Gerard? No, no. Wait. Jack. Different first letter.

"Zack!" she said suddenly, remembering. That was it. Zackary. The last name didn't matter now. Satisfied and feeling rather successful, she realized then that she'd spoken aloud. Had he finished his lecture? "Oh…sorry," she paused. "I was trying to remember your name." Now she waited, wondering if that fact that she'd ignored him would have any effect.

[ZACK CHARMING]

"Zack!"

"Yes?" Zack was wondering slightly how she knew his name, and simultaneously not giving a millionth of a damn. He got around, he supposed.

"Oh…sorry. I was just trying to remember your name.

Ah. Alright then. Zack raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but chose not to inquire further.

So she'd ignored his little speech. Intriguing, very intriguing. So she was a headstrong one. She had balls, so to speak. Or, she had Attention Deficit Disorder. Either seemed possible. Zack sized up this girl like he a wrestler sizes up his opponent. Had she told him her name? He couldn't remember.

Who did she remind him of? The question was like an annoying bug nibbling away at him. Every time he glanced at the pale face a spark flared in his brain, like a temporary inflammation of de ja vu. A memory, an association that was on the tip of his tongue, a piece of a puzzle he couldn't quite place. The predicament reminded him of a calculus problem: he would never be able to get it off his mind until he had solved it on his own.

The girl looked like she was almost done with her lunch/drink. Well that was no fun. Zack needed more time with this girl, to formulate a hypothesis, variables, and conclusion. "Hey," he said quickly. "Stick around a while. We should talk some more."

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

She downed what was left of her Nestea. Well, guess it was time to leave. What with her lunch finished, she could now go exploring. Or something. Maybe head to the library to find a book. Or she could head back to her dorm room to... doodle. Maybe she could find Annabelle. Okay, she finally admitted, there wasn't much else going on.


Zack spoke suddenly and Summer rose an eyebrow. She should stick around? Like, stay to talk with him on purpose? Was that really how she wanted to spend her time? In this loud Dining Hall? With him? She glanced around and noticed, with surprise, that it wasn't as crowded as before. How had she missed that? So, it wasn't that loud. Maybe she'd stay. Really, it wasn't like she had anything better to do. After a few more minutes of deliberating, she finally decided that she might as well stay here.

She leaned back in her chair until it rest on the two back legs. She stayed there for a moment before letting it fall back down. She shrugged. "Alright, I guess." Summer would deal with him for a little while longer. It was probably that she wanted to give him another chance. Somehow, she was feeling guilty for disliking him so quickly. If he started to lecture again, though, she might just have to leave.

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack looked her straight in the eye, wondering what was going on behind that thoughtful, inquisitive gaze. Not a piercing, painful stare that scoured his face for clues, nor an ignorant, oblivious one. Pleasantly intelligent was how he would describe it. He liked her. She didn’t force herself upon him like most girls did. And she hadn’t PMSed when he’d accidentally slipped into college-vocab mode. That was something.

“Sorry about that earlier,” he commented absentmindedly. “I have to watch my language all the time, to make sure I don’t, you know…well sometimes I forget.” Which wasn’t quite true. He never really forgot. Cutting himself some slack would be a more appropriate word. But it wasn’t usually a conscious adjudication.

Zack thought about other things that had happened today. He did another sweep of her for clues. Had she said something in their previous conversation, let slip a key that could unlock her companionship? He closed his eyes and strained to remember. It had only been a few minutes ago, but it seemed like forever.

Meg Cabot. Something about Meg Cabot.

It was as if a gunshot had rattled through his brain. His eyes shot open and he was awake and alert. A bookworm. Well that was quite something. It meant she was intellectually directed, even if math and physics obviously didn’t strike her fancy. He wondered if she could write. But he had to be careful here. He was treading thin ground. A single misstep and he could strike a nerve

Well it couldn’t hurt. Zack had strapped on his armor. Now he aimed his bow and arrow and squinted, eyes on the bulls-eye. He drew the string back, tensed, and shot.

“So, what books are you into then?”

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

Summer was starting to get fidgety. For one, she wasn't actually holding a book. Two, she was a walker, a mover. She was one of those types that could sit still for awhile, but hated to do it. If there was a type like that. She glanced down to her intertwined hands, folded in her lap. She pulled them apart and began to toy with the sleeve of her shirt, trying to keep herself still.

He was talking. Apologizing, actually. This surprised her. And it slightly calmed her down, put her in that accepting mood. She smiled, really, actually smiled and shrugged again. She wouldn't say anything, no no no. But, it was her way of saying 'I accept your apology.' Summer was beginning to dislike him less but it'd probably still take a bit more. She tended to hold grudges and though he hadn't really done anything to her, it was just him in general.

Books. Well, there was a topic she didn't mind talking about. Summer eyed the Calculus book warily. Assuming those books weren't math, anyway. "I'll read mostly anything," she answered, looking down at her backpack. There were actually two books in there and a few notebooks. 'Except for Twilight,' her subconscious added suddenly. A grin, for herself mostly, snaked it's way onto her face. Yes, Twilight. Oh how she could go on and on about that book.

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack actually smiled at this one. Not a Twilight-head, eh? He shook his head. “Me neither. I always considered that Anne Rice wannabe series one enormous chronology of clichés.” He shook his head, as if regretfully. “I mean, despite this new girls clumsy awkwardness, plain looks, and rejection of the advances of every male that so much as glances at her, the school hothead falls in love with her. Epitome of originality, wouldn’t you agree? Not to mention that every other sentence in the book includes some gushy description of the perfection of his entire body. I mean seriously: beautifully long fingers? An impeccably white chest? What is the publishing industry coming to? The only bright side was that Taylor Lautner. My heart skipped a beat each time he stripped every other scene.” He rolled his eyes.

Okay. So maybe he’d taken that one a tad too far. But it wasn’t too shabby a lecture, considering he’d never actually read nor seen Twilight, and had just pieced the above adjudication together from snippets of conversation he’d overheard in the library the previous day. But the fact that this girl seemed to love all books except this one outlier was intriguing in itself. Zack would have to check the book out the next day.

He racked his brains for another conversation topic. The last one had been a time-staller: this one should tell him something. Thousands of thoughts zoomed back and forth through his head. Was the girl smart? Charismatic? Shy? He wondered if it were possible to determine this through her opinion of different books. Her dislike of Twilight in all its cultish following seemed to reveal a headstrong, me-against-the-world type nature. Zack liked that quality. It reminded him of himself, in a twisted, contorted stretch of the mind. Could it even reveal I sprinkle of…tomboyishness?

What other books were out there? Zack though back to the library where he spent most of his time, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the rows of titles arrayed on the shelves. “Ever read Wuthering Heights?” he asked distractedly.

[SUMMER SINCLAIR]

Summer actually listened to his little rant this time. Books were something should could talk about and listen to matter what. Had she said that little Twilight comment out loud, though? She could've sworn it was a thought. He was either telepathic or she was forgetful. Oh well, it didn't matter now. He'd gone onto some spiel about Bella. Summer had actually read the books and if there was one thing she hated more than, well, all of it, it was Bella. Ugh. Shaking the negative thoughts away and resisting her own rant, Summer had to grin. "Taylor Lautner fan boy, eh? Well, that's interesting."

Holding up her finger for the international 'one minute' gesture, she stood and headed to the nearest trash can, her apple and bottle in hand. She tossed the apple, recycled the empty Nestea and stretched while she had her chance. Standing on her tippy-toes, reaching for the ceiling, she rolled her wrists and just loosened up in general. Heading back to the table, she sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest.

Leaning back in the chair, she thought back. Had she read Wuthering Heights? Hmm. Yes, she had. Actually. It'd been awhile, though. She'd have to check it out at the library so she could reread it. One thing she remembered was how confusing it'd been. But, when had she read it? Definitely before she could wrap her head around it. It was just one of those books that were there, so she'd picked it up. "Yeah," she answered, finally. "I've read it but that was a couple of years ago."