Before We Were US
I stared at the booklet in front of me, my hands covered in pencil lead that looked just like the dark circles under my tired eyes.
Solve for the unknown variable.
The problem was a complex trigonometric identity, a tangled web of sines and cosines that should have been my sanctuary. Usually, when I looked at a page like this, the numbers sorted themselves into neat, orderly rows. I could see the path to the solution before my pen even touched the paper. But today, the ink seemed to bleed and shift. All I could see was the way Noah had looked in the dim light of my bedroom, the way he had handed me that hoodie as if it were a piece of himself he was letting me keep. I could still hear the gh