Page 19 of Liam
Liam navigates the room with the grace of a ballroom dancer, each handshake and smile a perfectly choreographed move. His laughter rings out, genuine and warm, drawing people into his orbit like moths to a flame. Business cards appear and disappear from his hands as if by magic, slipping into pockets with practiced ease.
I hover at the edges of conversations, a forced smile plastered on my face. My fingers fidget with the stem of my champagne flute, twirling it as I struggle to find an opening in the polite chatter around me.
I glance at Liam.
My pencil skitters across the page as I wrestle with the complex equations of calculus. Liam leans back in his chair, dark hair tousled and eyes bright with mischief.
“Why are you staring at it like it’s going to bite you?” He flashes that infuriating grin, the one that sends my heart racing.
“Because it’s pretending to be harder than it is. It’s trying to mess with my head,” I huff, rolling my eyes.
He leans forward, elbows on the table, gaze gleaming. “You know, math is like a puzzle. You just have to find the right piece.” He nudges my shoulder. “And I think I can help you with that.”
The warmth of his touch ignites a fluttering sensation deep within. Is he still talking about math? I glance down, pretending to be engrossed in my notes. But the butterflies take flight, and a whisper of caution echoes in my mind. Be careful. Heartbreaker.
“Okay, Mr. Expert,” I reply, forcing a light tone. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
As he explains the problems, the tension shifts between us. It’s no longer just about studying; an electric energy crackles in the air. Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze a moment longer than necessary.
“Got it?” he asks with a teasing lilt in his voice, leaning closer, our arms brushing.
“Yeah, I think so. Thanks to you.” My pulse quickens.
His laughter rings in the air, rich and inviting. “Just wait until the next exam. You’ll be begging me to help you again.”
The warmth in his gaze wraps around me, holding me captive. My mind races with thoughts of losing myself in him,of falling headfirst into the deep end, and the warning bells chime again. Heartbreaker.
Yet, as he smiles, a flicker of hope dances within. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something real.
“Aleria?”
The sound of my name jolts me back to the present. I shake my head, dispelling the bittersweet memory.
“So, what do you do?” a silver-haired man asks, his eyes glazing over as I launch into an explanation of my research.
“Well, I’m working on a specialized light source that will emit precise wavelengths that interact with specific biomarkers. It’s fascinating how you can target different types of tissues.”
He nods, eyes already scanning the room for an escape. I trail off, taking a large sip of champagne to fill the awkward silence.
Liam’s eyes meet mine. His smirk softens for a moment into something almost like sympathy before he’s drawn back into conversation with a distinguished-looking couple. They laugh at something he says, hanging on his every word.
I square my shoulders and approach another group, determined to make at least one successful social interaction. “Hello,” I begin, my voice a touch too loud. “Lovely evening, isn’t it? Did you know that the game of Go has more possible board configurations than there are atoms in the observable universe?”
The group stares at me. I take another gulp of champagne, wishing I could dissolve into the bubbles and float away from this disaster of an evening.
“So, Dr. James, is it?” a portly man in an expensive suit addresses me. “What’s your favorite opening strategy in Go?”
“Oh! Opening strategies! Well, that’s a fascinating topic. Did you know that there are over three hundred and sixty possible opening moves in Go? It’s like the Big Bang of the game, setting off a chain reaction of possibilities. Personally, I’m partial to the San-ren-sei opening.
It’s a flexible three-star opening that establishes influence over three corners. It’s like setting up a triangulation experiment in the lab, you see. Each stone acts as a data point, and the interactions between them create a complex system of?—”
The man’s eyes glaze over, and he excuses himself. Liam’s low chuckle sounds behind me.
“I think you lost him at ‘chain reaction,’ Dr. James,” Liam says, stepping closer. “Not everyone appreciates the...depth of your enthusiasm.”
I spin to face him, my cheeks burning from both embarrassment and his proximity. “Well, excuse me for not dumbing down the intricacies of Go for the masses. Some of us respect the game’s complexity.”
Liam’s eyes lock onto mine, a challenge dancing in their blue depths. “Oh? And you think you’re the only one here who understands the game, Dr. James?”
