We’re in the shack at seven thirty for our first study session.
We’ve got books out. Pencils at the ready. We’re on that bench, sitting so damn close I can feel vibes, like, shooting off her body. And there are so many vibes it’s impossible to dodge them. And the vibes are so powerful, it’s taking all the self-control we have to not hurl ourselves at each other because it’s freaking electromagnetic up in here.
Wendy leans my way, so I lean her way, and she starts moving her lips—my God, her lips—all I see is lips! And when words come out of those lips, they say …
“I need you to dial it way the hell down, Teodoro. Way down. Right now.”
“Awesome, Wendy!” I take a gulp from my water bottle. “I am dialing it down.” I take a bunch more gulps.
“And scoot.” She points to her side of the bench. “This is my bubble of teaching.” She points to my side. “That is your bubble of learning. And between those bubbles … is space. A space bubble.”
“I am hearing you. And I am dialed down so low.”
“Lower. Teodoro.”
More gulps. Then I wipe my face with the back of my hand and say, “I am ready to be professional for you.”
“Good. First question: What is calculus?”
I got this one. “Calculus, Wendy, is often referred to as the mathematics of change.”
“Yes, dork. But what does that mean?”
“I know what it means. But since you’d like to land the job of tutoring me in calculus, I need to be sure that you know what it means.”
Wendy rolls her eyes and smirks. “I’ll take a stab at it. You measure straight-line, same-speed kinda stuff with regular math—algebra and geometry. You use calculus to measure changes in slope and speed and force and that kind of thing. Like figuring out the amount of materials needed to build the roof of a domed stadium. Or the amount of energy it takes to pull a trailer over a mountain highway. Or how much cable you need to hold up a suspension bridge.”
“Very interesting, Ms. Martinez.”
“Did I get it right, Mr. Avila?”
“Close enough. You may tutor me now.”
“You’re not just a dork. You’re the biggest dork.”
Wendy says the best thing we could do to ensure I ace pre-calculus is to review algebra. Cuz when you’re dealing with those curves and slopes in calculus, you’re actually just zooming in so superclose that you get little tiny straight lines. You do the algebra on each of those tiny straight lines, and you add ’em all up? That’s calculus. But you have to understand the algebra first. If you do, then calculus will be a lot easier.
Caleb and Bashir helped drag me to that B. But I’m not sure how much I’ve forgotten and how much I really know. Wendy’s right. I better review.
For a couple hours, Wendy kicks my ass on everything you can do with a fraction. Then we get into absolute value and powers.
Each thing we do in algebra, she gives a quick explanation of what it will look like in calculus. We’re reviewing, but she makes it feel like we’re always looking ahead.
“Don’t forget any of this, Teodoro. Lock it in there. I want to move on to roots and simplification of roots tomorrow. If you’re really good, we’ll get to factoring, which you totally need for calc.”
“Let’s get there,” I say.
Wendy points at me. “That’s the attitude, Teodoro!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! You can do it!”
“Yeah!” I pop off the bench and hop onto a dusty crate and thrust my arms in the air. “I think I can do it!”
“You think you can do it?”
“I know I think I’m almost pretty sure I can maybe do it!”
Wendy laughs and says we’ll be working on my math confidence throughout the summer.
Then hugs. And kisses. And talk of how we earned them. By being so professional.
I have to admit, I don’t think the first study session could have gone any better.
* * *
We break for lunch. Wendy keeps with the power nap routine.
I throw down a cup of coffee with my burrito. And flip through some bad daytime TV.
Wendy gets up and I prep her burrito.
She takes one bite and freaks about the green chile. She says damn way more times than I did! And each time she says damn I can see chewed burrito in her mouth. And she doesn’t even care.
Sometimes I think it’s impossible to fall for Wendy any harder than I already have. Then she lets herself get disgusting eating green chile. Right in front of me. It’s a wild thing to watch. And I think maybe my love for her knows no bounds.
We head outside for an afternoon of dividing junk. Some goes into the adds-character-to-chile-stand pile and some goes into the haul-it-to-the-dump pile.
The afternoon feels as productive and fun as the morning.
Afterward, Wendy goes upstairs to clean up.
Manny and Xoch are still out.
I want to call Caleb. I want to hear his voice and tell him how great everything is going. But I don’t want him to get on my case for leaving him. And I don’t want to hear him tell me to come home.
So I call Mami and Papi again.
I tell them about my schedule with Wendy. I tell them Xochitl and Manny are working the fields in the morning and afternoon, except for when Manny takes a break to see his doctor. I tell them about the group and about his counselor.
“I got some news, too,” Papi says. “I took a job at Home Depot. And I’m trying to get Mami one there, too.”
“That’s great. Right?”
Papi says he’ll be making a third of what he did at Fauntleroy Fabrication. “But it’s something, mijo.” He says it feels good to be working after so long but the best part is the employee discount. It turns out Papi’s gonna need it because Mami told a teacher friend about the Captain’s Quarters and the friend says she wants Papi to build her this room-divider/shelf thing for her classroom. Papi’s busy with the designs. Says it’s gonna be very Swiss Army Knife–y.
Mami says he’s real excited about it. She sounds excited, too.
About Papi.
And that is amazing.
The hard thing about talking to them is hanging up. You can hear in their voices how bad they miss us. But it’s not about missing us. I think a big reason for the emotional good-byes is how bad they feel that Manny had to leave home—leave them—to get better.