A Fate Met in Calculus

To fall in love with a math geek…

In the mirror, wiping off the excess soft, glitter-pink lip gloss, was someone considered “angel of beauty,” as most of her schoolmates would say. Usually, there would be a line of girls beside her, doing the same: fixing their mascara, popping their contact lenses in. 

11th grade is different when teachers mess up schedules, and suddenly, you were in Advanced Calculus instead of standard-level math. Seraphina smacked her lips, ensuring that it always looked perfect, then confidently struck a few poses with pouted lips and ruffled hair. The bell had already rang a few minutes ago. It was always passed off as a joke when she entered the classroom with her friends all at once. Now, no one was there to remind her to get to class together, hence the upset, yet forgiving teacher due to lack of attentiveness. 

“Ms. Garcia, am I right? I’ll check you in for ‘late’,” 

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again, I promise,” she said as she pulled open the only vacant seat. Of course, none of the people she didn’t know all coincidentally were glasses-wearing geeks. From left to right, the room was occupied with boys. Maybe a couple of girls, but they had sat at the far back, altogether. The boy beside her paused his focus on his scribbled paper, then turned his head over to her as Sera was settling into her seat. 

His nose compliments his eyes well. 

He stared, looking curious rather than judgemental. It wasn’t what Sera was used to. This time, it wasn’t someone she knew, or rather knew her. After a few seconds of awkwardly exchanging glances, he looked away, blocking his side profile with his hand. Sera noticed his suddenly blushed ears. And that only meant one thing: fluster. Of course, she knew that by reading the monthly teen magazine under the section of “Understanding BOYS.” 

Talking to people didn’t require much energy or courage; it was preferable, actually, to Sera. It was fun to understand people, their habits, their thoughts. But in a room full of math geeks..? She bit her lip at the thought of it. Still, she thought if she was going to go through math hell for an entire year, she might as well make some friends. 

“Psst, did I miss anything? ” Sera whispered, tucking her hands over her chest as she leaned forward to get a clear vision of his face. He only shook his head, not allowing Sera to get a glimpse of his face. “What’s your name?” She asked, maybe a bit too loud. 

He slid off a note on a piece of scrap paper that read, ‘The teacher here is a tad bit strict. My name’s Lowen, you?’ in a handwriting that screamed he was a neat freak. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Time was a million years longer when the teacher’s voice didn't make up for the dull lesson. Finally, there was pair work; at least now she wouldn’t have to suffer. After a 45-minute session of zoning out into the blackboard crammed with calculus notes, she didn’t have an idea of what the assignment was. “What is it that we have to do again?” she asked innocently. 

“Read the board.” Harsh much?

“What’s an.. actually, I don’t know half of these words.” 

“That’s alright. Just help me with this; I’ll teach you,” Lowen stated, as if he was used to people asking for his help. “So, basically…” 

*** 

School had finished; Friday was when the streets were the busiest. Night markets, window shopping, students with school uniforms in every corner. Seraphina with her silky blonde hair would often be spotted linked with her friend’s arms, gleaming without much thought at all. Especially at 4 pm, the sky is the most beautiful out of all times, which was why she was always out by then. Its clouds parallel each other, and it was satisfying to see its iridescence align in each tendril. It’s distracting to look up all the time, which was why she looked ahead of her. There was always an ominous alleyway, a small shop neighboring it, and that’s where the quietness of the city could be felt. Mostly because there weren’t any surveillance cameras, pitiful beggars slept, ate, drank, and lived there. Students passed by the ends of the streets quickly. 

“No way, that shirt is totally your style, you should totally get it!” Her friend Allison exclaimed. 

“Oh, please. That was in last year’s column of a teen magazine, and for less too; it’s a scam.” Glass here must not be soundproof, because the store clerk styling the mannequin shot her a dirty look. 

The sidewalk had cracks, which let out a foul smell of the underground sewage. Still, its pungent smell stirred with the salty smoke coming from food stalls was familiar. The same people promoting their own business, the same old billiards banner that was never taken down even though the place had been shut down, the voices lingering in the memories of this street. 

As Allison, Kalea, and Sera were approaching the alleyway, a similar figure caught her eye. In a small archived library with warm lights bright enough to read every word, dim enough to blur each pore and flaw, there stood a man with broad shoulders effortlessly grabbing the book on the top shelf. Leaning onto the rack, his side profile and distinguishable nose were instantly identified as Lowen’s. Not to mention his out-grown brunette curls. 

For some odd reason, every thump of her heart was louder than the one before, and the people surrounding her, bumping into her, were only the hazy background in the corner of her eye. She hadn’t felt this jittery bug since the first time she truly felt beautiful back in 8th grade. 

“I heard the latest issue is hard to find; should we try some place less crowded? It could be like over.. There!” Sera pointed to the rustic shop, feigning the pure coincidence that there so happened to be a bookstore that collected girls’ magazines. By the looks of it, they probably didn’t. 

“You think…there… girl magazines?” Kalea questioned. Emphasis on ‘there’; outside were only a couple of old men drinking coffee at cafe tables under the beige canopy.

“Well, who knows? I mean, it is exclusive; maybe so is this bookstore,” Ally replied; she was always optimistic. 

A soft chime echoed as the three entered the shop. Warm, soft fixtures hung above without overbearing the cozy atmosphere. The cashier clerk, and all those who looked like they worked here, were reading a book; it was probably a requirement to read books every few seconds, or they wouldn’t think their library was being taken seriously. Sera had suggested they separate fiction and non-fiction. Finally alone, she strolled through multiple aisles, brushing the spines of consecutive books, acting like ‘Biology: The start of life and life itself’ was the most interesting. It was all organized by the title, some by numbers, and most by the author’s last name, which she did not recognize. 

At last, in the crevices compressed by other, most likely more significant books, the typical white font and neon pink of a spine were conspicuous compared to the other muted, more serious-toned covers. Huh, I guess they do care about the lives of teenage girls. Its thin spine made it easier to grab two than one. Volume #11 and #12 were finally out, “Femininely Smart?” and “Shaved or unshaved…” 

$3.99 each? Sweet. Her fingertips skimmed through the magazines, the first one having most pictures, stationery, study tips, the usual lesson-ny stuff. There was a picture of a girl that caught Sera’s attention. Thick glasses, hair tied into pigtails, and holding out a scholarship certificate with a large amount of cash underneath her perfect full-mark. The epitome of a nerd, she was. The opposite of what Sera is. 

“How many zeros is that..? And.. is that our school?” The uniform logo was from Sundale’s high school; more specifically, it actually was Sera’s. She drew a sharp breath and covered her mouth after realizing she was quite loud, at least for a library. Her first instinct was to look around, see if anyone caught that. Maybe not Ally and Kalea, as far as Sera knows; they’d be judging the cover of ‘Metamorphosis’ and ‘The Great Gatsby.’ 

Oh. No. And there he was, Lowen Chesney, organizing the books on the other side of this shelf. The gap of 2 magazines wasn't nearly enough for him to look through. But it was nearly enough for Sera to. He was squirming a thick book that could’ve covered the gap; the shelf was vibrating from the sheer effort of doing so. Involuntarily, she flattened herself to the shelf. Usually, it would be the opposite, actually: a reunion and the mutual happiness to see each other. 

Sera patted down her uniform for loose threads or wrinkles that might even look slightly less appealing than Lowen’s. Wait. Why am I even checking myself? It’s just my seatmate. Just say hi. Just say hi. She grazed her lips to feel if there was lip gloss on. There was. 

She walked out of the shadowed section, attempting an innate smile. Then tapped on his shoulder; he was wearing earbuds. 

He recoiled, hands on his chest. “Oh my Jesus. That scared me.” 

“Oh, sorry. Hi. I was just passing by when I saw the library, and I remembered I was looking for something, and thought that this place might have it here, so well, here I am. And then I saw you in one of the aisles and thought I might say hi.”

“Oh. What’s that you wanted to find? I’ll help.” 

“Just a silly magazine. I’m here with my friends. You work here?” 

“Yeah, the magazines are right behind this shelf.” 

“Okay, thanks. What are you doing?” 

“Organizing, it’s part of my job.” 

“Don’t you ever get sick of doing this all day?” 

“It’s not all day. Also, I need it.” 

“Need what?” 

“The money.” 

Sera learned he was on scholarship. And that was a fascinating matter to her. He had always dressed so proper and was neat and tidy. She didn’t know he was that poor to have to work a job at an old library shop. Plus, everyone in their school was rich. I mean, the one sign that no one would’ve ever noticed was that he didn’t have a luxury bag. 

“Can I try?” 

“You mean, the job?” 

“Yes.” 

Lowen talked in a soft, eloquent manner. Pointing out the different titles, authors, and genres, it was all new to Sera. It was something she should have learned, and most kids have, but never her. Because she focused on one particular beauty, constantly fixating on the state of her face, so that she hadn’t tried to notice other things as well. When people see her walk down the street, it was never about how smart she truly was or how she was passionate about things that mattered to her; her beauty was always the only thing that mattered about her. Eventually, it turned out to be the only thing that mattered to her as well. 

*** 

That day at the library, Sera was caught by her friends reading something other than a beauty magazine. It was about real techniques, fashion garments, beautiful models. Art. In reality, she’s also read (or skimmed) through other books: Cooking, marine biology, how to survive 101. But fashion was the best. The intricate designs of lace and silver and gold. The iridescence of a fabric to be admired from a certain angle. And the way some cloth drapes over the mannequin so gracefully. 

That very same day, Sera had promised Lowen that she would come back, and that she was looking forward to seeing him at school. 

“Hey, tell me if you’d like to come; I’ll walk you. It’s a dangerous street.” 

Seraphina Garcia has finally found her passion. And she remained a beauty, still, to many. But she was never just that anymore.