Hello all, my first Numb3rs fic. I know I have a lot of stories going right now, but I couldn't resist. This is told from Amita's point of view after "Hot Shot". I don't know the actual story of Charlie and Amita's first meeting so bare with me. It's also been a while since I've taken Calculus so forgive me if my math references are off. Anyway, without further ado, "Love of Math (Math of Love)"
-Original Max A
Ever since my grandmother and I went to India, we've been closer than ever. She may be old, but even when I was a child she could read me like a book. I know she would get mad at me when I wouldn't listen about my heritage, but she never complained. When I asked why she didn't force the issue, why she didn't make me learn about my Indian culture, she said that I was a child who couldn't pressured. I needed to find my own way. Then she stared for long moment and slowly smiled. Not much has changes in 20 years, she told me finally. That simple truth has landed me here, between two extremes that will alter my life.
Harvard vs. Cal-Sci. Staying home vs. a whole new adventure. By going to Harvard, I have access to some of the top mathematical and scientific minds in the country. Although they really don't get smarter than… Also I'll be able to develop my skills as a professional and as a teacher. Hopefully I will be able to guide the students that I meet with even half the passion as… It's a move for my career. Harvard would help me grow and come into my own in the professional community without… Charlie.
Charlie. My "X" factor. He's a variable in this equation that I want to do without, but can't. His presence in my life is a part of why I even have this decision to make. I don't know what I would have done without Charlie, but now, I don't know what I can do with him. Things were easier when I wanted what I couldn't have. Charlie was always in his own world and as so I was able to admire him all I wanted without worrying about the repercussions. Now, we've kissed, gone on one really bad date, been jealous (both of us) and revealed parts of ourselves that did not possess numerical values. Our relationship has changed so much that I don't know when the professional one ends and the other begins.
I met Charlie when I was a T.A. for an Advanced Integral Calculus course. I've actually had a crush on him since then. He was substituting for the class when the original professor, Dr. Hardy, got sick. Dr. Hardy was brilliant, but so boring he even put me to sleep sometimes. I love math and it almost hurt to see Dr. Hardy suck the joy and excitement from the subject. I knew these students wouldn't be able to see the beauty of math the way I do with Dr. Hardy as their professor. And then Charlie came in. I actually introduced myself to him first, thinking he was lost. But, no, he was the famous Dr. Charles Eppes. I don't know what I was expecting him to look like, but definitely not this unassuming, curly-haired stranger who looked like a student himself.
When the class realized who he was, there was an instant excitement in the room. This was a freshman/sophomore level class and very few students had Charlie as their professor this early. After I told him what we had been going over, he grabbed the chalk, wrote down the equation and asked the class what did the equation mean? Not the individual letters, but as a full equation, what can it enable you to do and why? No one was used to the level of interaction that Charlie required. He wanted his students to question and challenge theories. He wanted them to be actively involved in understanding and coming to their own conclusions. In the six months I had been a T.A. for that class, I had never seen that enthusiasm in the room. People didn't want to leave. All I could think was who was this guy who managed, in less than two hours, to turn this graveyard of dying minds into an amusement park of mental actively. It was astounding.
There was no way I couldn't seek him out after that and now, I may have to leave him. My grandmother says that maybe it's as simple as it's time for me to move on. I would like to accept that because I've often learned that the simplest explain is usually the best. I can't stay stationary, stuck between the adoring T.A. I once was and the contributing professional I want to be. I never wanted to be Charlie's protégé, I wanted to be his equal. Now I'm not sure if that's enough. I want to be happy, but I've got to find my own way. I reach for the phone, pick it up and dial…
Who does Amita call? Review and tell me who it should be. Hope you liked it.