own devices. I’d then spend the day following her from a distance down aisles at the grocery store, watching her pick up the dry cleaning, or keeping an eye on the streets outside her house at night.
As my admiration for Sophie grew, so did my need to be near her. Like an addict, the more I got, the more desperate I became for my next fix, and I soon found myself doing careless things that risked blowing my cover. I pulled alongside her car at a stop light or sat within noticeable range at the bookstore — anything to be close to her. I normally wouldn’t dream of doing such things, but the wellbeing it gave me led me to do it again and again, until, on one particularly bold day, I almost got caught.
Sophie occasionally accompanied her father to the university he taught at, spending the day visiting with his co-workers or taking in a class. This day, she settled in for one of her father’s lectures. The area where she sat was empty, and, ignoring my instinct that it was horribly wrong, I sat directly behind her.
For too long I’d been following her from afar — from across a crowded street or business or from a computer screen and headphones feeding me sight and sound — so I relished this vantage point, watching as she doodled in her notebook, occasionally pausing to focus on Evyatar’s lecture while chewing the end of her pen. From here, I could smell her pretty, fresh scent, make out the faint, sheer rose of her cheeks, and tell she was cold from the goose bumps on her arm. Caught up in my reverie, I lost track of my bearings, becoming engrossed and complacent.
Suddenly, Evyatar called out, “You, in the back.” It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me. “The time required for half of the atoms in any given quantity of a radioactive isotope to decay is called the… ?”
The whole class waited for an answer, many students turning in their seats. I froze, my mouth gaping. Nothing came to me.
After what felt like an eternity, Sophie called out, “Half life. The time required for half of the atoms in a given quantity of a radioactive isotope to decay is called the half life.”
Evyatar shook his head at her, a slight smile on his face, before continuing his lecture on nuclear physics.
With great relief, I got up to leave. Thankfully, Sophie hadn’t turned to stare like the other students and I knew it was wise to disappear before I drew any more unwanted attention. But then, making my way out of the narrow row, I tripped with a great clamor. Sophie started towards me, distracted by the ruckus. Still a good ten feet from the door, I threw myself into the nearest seat, folding my arms across the desktop and letting my head drop. My genius proved false as my head slipped past my arms, planting into the desk. Tingly pain pricked from my nose to my cheeks, and then behind my eyes. Though excruciated, I held my pose until I heard the rustle of Sophie turning to watch her father again.
When I thought it was safe, I slowly raised my head to find a small puddle of blood on the desk. Frantically feeling my face, I realized my nose was bleeding. Not bothering to see if anyone was watching, I quickly wiped the desk with my sleeve and raced from the room.
I laughed at the moment now, though at the time, it scared the living daylights out of me. I almost compromised my position. And for what? To sit close to a girl who didn’t know I existed.
I was a joke. For the first time, I was glad Benson wasn’t around so he didn’t witness my misstep. Though Dio had seen it and I wondered how or why he would choose to use an incompetent fool like me.
I entertained resigning from the mission, though that thought lasted only a moment. No one could do a better job at protecting Sophie than me. In a way, my vested emotions were an advantage, so I continued with new determination to remain professional, soon learning I wasn’t the only person to do something I hid.
On occasion, Sophie watercolor painted, but
As my admiration for Sophie grew, so did my need to be near her. Like an addict, the more I got, the more desperate I became for my next fix, and I soon found myself doing careless things that risked blowing my cover. I pulled alongside her car at a stop light or sat within noticeable range at the bookstore — anything to be close to her. I normally wouldn’t dream of doing such things, but the wellbeing it gave me led me to do it again and again, until, on one particularly bold day, I almost got caught.
Sophie occasionally accompanied her father to the university he taught at, spending the day visiting with his co-workers or taking in a class. This day, she settled in for one of her father’s lectures. The area where she sat was empty, and, ignoring my instinct that it was horribly wrong, I sat directly behind her.
For too long I’d been following her from afar — from across a crowded street or business or from a computer screen and headphones feeding me sight and sound — so I relished this vantage point, watching as she doodled in her notebook, occasionally pausing to focus on Evyatar’s lecture while chewing the end of her pen. From here, I could smell her pretty, fresh scent, make out the faint, sheer rose of her cheeks, and tell she was cold from the goose bumps on her arm. Caught up in my reverie, I lost track of my bearings, becoming engrossed and complacent.
Suddenly, Evyatar called out, “You, in the back.” It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me. “The time required for half of the atoms in any given quantity of a radioactive isotope to decay is called the… ?”
The whole class waited for an answer, many students turning in their seats. I froze, my mouth gaping. Nothing came to me.
After what felt like an eternity, Sophie called out, “Half life. The time required for half of the atoms in a given quantity of a radioactive isotope to decay is called the half life.”
Evyatar shook his head at her, a slight smile on his face, before continuing his lecture on nuclear physics.
With great relief, I got up to leave. Thankfully, Sophie hadn’t turned to stare like the other students and I knew it was wise to disappear before I drew any more unwanted attention. But then, making my way out of the narrow row, I tripped with a great clamor. Sophie started towards me, distracted by the ruckus. Still a good ten feet from the door, I threw myself into the nearest seat, folding my arms across the desktop and letting my head drop. My genius proved false as my head slipped past my arms, planting into the desk. Tingly pain pricked from my nose to my cheeks, and then behind my eyes. Though excruciated, I held my pose until I heard the rustle of Sophie turning to watch her father again.
When I thought it was safe, I slowly raised my head to find a small puddle of blood on the desk. Frantically feeling my face, I realized my nose was bleeding. Not bothering to see if anyone was watching, I quickly wiped the desk with my sleeve and raced from the room.
I laughed at the moment now, though at the time, it scared the living daylights out of me. I almost compromised my position. And for what? To sit close to a girl who didn’t know I existed.
I was a joke. For the first time, I was glad Benson wasn’t around so he didn’t witness my misstep. Though Dio had seen it and I wondered how or why he would choose to use an incompetent fool like me.
I entertained resigning from the mission, though that thought lasted only a moment. No one could do a better job at protecting Sophie than me. In a way, my vested emotions were an advantage, so I continued with new determination to remain professional, soon learning I wasn’t the only person to do something I hid.
On occasion, Sophie watercolor painted, but
Similar Books
