The Girl Who Speaks With Algebra

24: Yearning

It was a short message; Paige had simply sent 'We're still on for tonight. Okay?'. I responded with 'Okay' back, not sure what else to say.

I confirmed with Seiko that it was still going to be a double-date deal with her and Marc, put in my six hours of work, and then finally got around to asking Seiko about "r's" around 5pm while we were waiting for our dates to arrive.

"That's the letter we use in statistics for the correlation coefficient," Seiko explained. "Which is a way to measure how much two variables are connected. The strength of their association depends on how close to one – or negative one – that "r-value" is. Bearing in mind that zero doesn't mean no correlation, only no linear correlation. Mathematics considers other measures for other models."

Which was informative, but I'm not sure it brought me any closer to a way of handling the statistics faceoff.

Paige arrived first. She was wearing a blue blouse with a brooch clasped on it, and dark slacks that nearly covered what looked like a pair of ankle boots. I had to think back into September, but I HAD seen Paige in pants before, versus a skirt or a dress. What took me aback was the fact that her hair was down. No twintails, not even a ponytail. THAT was a first. Also, there was no smile on those ruby red lips.

"Is this a test?" I blurted out to her. "Because you're still hot."

She seemed to flinch. "I... I merely didn't want to give off the wrong vibe. We have an assignment. And I did want to see you again. It's only..." Her gaze drifted towards Seiko, then down to the floor. "It's that I didn't want to give off the wrong vibe," she repeated, uncertainly.

"I think I forgot something in my room," Seiko remarked, taking a step back.

"No!" Paige said, sharply, her gaze jerking back up. "Stay. Please. I... I want this to be social evening. With more people than just me and Rose."

This was some sort of test. Damn it, I hadn't studied. "Marc knows I'm gay," I told Paige then. "But I haven't come out to anyone else. And I won't advertise a THING, not if it might make you uncomfortable. We'll simply be two girls at a concert together."

Her grip tightened on the small handbag she was carrying. "Don't compromise your principles for me, Rose."

"I'm not," I assured her. "I'm trying to follow someone's good advice. To be careful."

"Right. Careful." Her jaw seemed to flex. Then she coughed. To cover her reaction? Or was I reading too much into this? Damn it, I needed to stop looking at her. But I couldn't. I still didn't even have a picture of Paige to look at when she wasn't around.

"Could I get a picture of you?" my mouth asked, before my brain could react.

Her eyebrow lifted. "With my hair down like this?"

"You're more than your hairstyle, Paige," I insisted. "So much more. But we can wait for another day, if you prefer?"

"That might be best," she said.

"Right," I said. Damn it, Rose, stop staring at her. "You know, I still love the smell of your perfume." AGH, NO, Rose, NO! I really, REALLY needed a clamp for my lips.

Thankfully, Seiko came to my rescue then, bringing up something about a midterm that she and Paige would be writing in the coming week. That talk filled the four or five minutes it took for Marc to arrive, and then we all headed out.

The church concert was pretty good. That said, I'm sure glad I took notes for the assignment write-up, because after fretting over whether I should sit next to Paige or not, and deciding to go for it, I then had to monitor myself. To make sure I wasn't gazing at her in an adoring manner at any point. It's not that I thought I would, but I had to make sure I DIDN'T. As such, I needed the notes to separate my logical concert side from my emotional girlfriend side.