The Mathematician (Book 1)

Epilogue

Harry's (3rd) POV:

One Week Earlier . . .

"Hello?"

He smiled a little at the guarded voice in the other end. "Max. It's Harry Devon."

The stunned silence that lasted for a full two seconds was abruptly followed by a surprised outburst. "Harry! It's been ages! It's so good to hear from you, how are you?"

"I'm well, thank you," He modestly replied, picking up a pen from his desk. He absentmindedly started toying with it. "I presume all is well with you, too."

"Oh, you know. Just the old humdrum. Admissions and new students. Nothing new. So to what do I owe this phone call?" Max, his dear old friend huffed out, knowing full and well he never made social calls. Both the literal and the metaphorical kind.

"That's actually the reason why I'm calling you," He replied, twirling the pen between his fingers. "To talk about admissions."

"Oh?" He noticed a note of concern in his friend's voice peak through the phone. "Is this about the Devon scholarship? I noticed that no applicant had been chosen this year. I hope this is not an administrative error on our end."

"No errors, Max. The reason why the Devon scholarship hasn't been granted this year is because no applicant has been chosen."

"Oh. Well, I see. Well, I'm very—"

"– Until this morning."

More silence. More shock. The pen in his hand paused, and he laid it down on his notebook.

"Harry. Don't tell me what I think you're telling me..."

"You want her," He simply voiced. He wasn't surprised when he heard Max's abrasive harumph in the other end.

"To admit a student this late—a scholarship student no less, would take an immense amount of paperwork, Harry, not to mention the costs and the—"

"You'll make the arrangements," He interrupted, now picking up the pen and twirling it around again. "And you'll make them fast. She'll be joining you in a week for this semester."

"Harry, for Christ's sake, you know we value your contribution to the school, but even you can only ask for so much! You can't just—"

"– I tutored her."

Dead. Silence.

He pursed his lips, hearing nothing but quiet breathing on the other end. Then, at last...

"You tutored her?" His friend sounded nothing short of in disbelief. "Harry..."

"She'll come in a week and she'll be admitted in her respective classes. The Mississauga department, med student. I trust you can make that happen."

"Harry," His friend's voice hardened, but still trembled with shock. "If you're telling the truth, you know what that means."

"I am and I do. That's why I trust there won't be an issue with rushing the paperwork."

There was a deep sigh on the other end, then the sound of scratching. Then, a suspended silence followed by a lowly muttered curse.

"I'll have to talk to the rest of the board," He then finally heard his friend mutter. "I won't make any promises, but if I mention your name, they might come around a bit quicker. But Harry... knowing them, you'll know what they will ask of you."

"And you'll give them the same answer I've always given them," He replied, pursing his lips ever so slightly. "I won't teach."

"But Harry, you see how the game has changed now. They've been asking for years, but your answer has always been that known to the public. If you say you've tutored this girl now, then you know you'll never hear the end of it. From us or the media! And if the board believes you'll budge for even a second..."

"Then I'll retract my money and the scholarship. You won't ever meet the only person I've ever tutored and you'll have lost the greatest chance of learning my methods," He scoffed, shaking his head when he heard his friend sigh. "I am aware of the leverage they hold, Max, but don't mistake that I don't hold some leverage myself. Make the admission happen. In reward, they get to see her in action, using my methods."

Another deep sigh and a blasphemous curse. "Very well, Harry, but I'm begging you. They might just make it their condition; One semester. That's all they're asking for."

"And I'm asking for one favor," He stiffly replied. "And we both know who it'll favor the most."

"Yes... alright, then. I'll get the board together later this afternoon and get back to you as soon as I can. I'll need her transcripts and papers, of course."

"Of course. I'll have them sent to you right after this."

"And Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Please. Just consider it. One semester," His friend implored. "Should you be at all interested in putting the odds more in your favor, give me a call by the end of the day. In the meantime, I'll handle the board and their questions. It might be nice to get out of the house, you know. Away from all that silence."

Just then, a sudden jostling by his door had him looking up from his pen and seeing the door to his office being opened. A head poked itself inside and looked at him as he sat with his phone pressed to his ear. Her brow lifted in a questioning manner.

"Thank you very much," He curtly replied, laying down his pen with finality. "I'll be sure to get back to you later."

"Thank you. Then I wish you the best of luck and a good day."

"Thank you. You, too."

Ending the call and putting down his phone, he looked up as she approached his desk. The woman who had disturbed his peace and disrupted his life and made him break his one and only rule.

And he feared he had grown much too accustomed to it.

Her.

– Cassandra.

• • •

The (open) End