Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 1(99)

“Every particle in the universe has led us up to this point,” Quentin said. “Every quark of every atom of every molecule has led us here.”

“Great. Now you got him started.”

“Every single snowflake falling outside of this window was created due to the interaction of millions and millions of particles over billions and billions of years. Because it is falling, it was meant to fall. There was no other way for it to happen.”

Mark leaned back in his chair and put his hands on top of his head. “Thanks, philosopher king. See what I told you, Brynn? This is worse than that one month he decided to go vegetarian.”

“I did go vegetarian, you idiot. I’m still vegetarian.”

“So there’s no such thing as probability?” I asked. “Like, if everything has to happen in a particular way, then everything that happens has one hundred percent probability.”

“Exactly,” Quentin said. “Well, no. If you have perfect initial conditions, then you can theoretically figure out what will happen in the next step of the universe.”

“Perfect initial conditions.”

“So everything has to happen in a certain way,” Mark said. “Isn’t that predetermination? Like, God?”

“There is no God.” Quentin said. “It’s just physics.”

I let my head fall forward onto the table in mock relief. “Whew! Glad that’s settled. Guess we can do some of this homework now.”

“What do you think, Brynn?” Mark asked, not letting the subject drop. “God or physics? Or free will?”

“Or ghosts,” Quentin said. “Don’t forget ghosts.”

“I am one hundred percent indifferent to matters of fate,” I said, picking up my pen. “Sorry to bring it up. Let’s do these homework problems.”

“I bet you think it’s fate,” Quentin said, but turned to the next question along with me.

If fate was guiding my life, it was doing a piss poor job of it, I thought. And although on the surface I agreed with Quentin, I had to think that there was something else to the way the universe worked. I couldn’t accept the fact that my mother’s death had sentenced me to such a horrible fate just by chance. If randomness had broken my life, how could I hope to put together the pieces myself? I had to believe in some kind of free will, or at least a rational destiny, that would give some meaning to the darkness that had crept into my world.

Three hours later, we had untangled most of the thorniest questions in the homework set. Question nine hung between us unanswered, with Mark and Quentin still arguing over symmetry on a subtle point in the relation’s definition. The caffeine had long since disappeared from my system, and I covered my mouth in a deep yawn.

“Ok, guys,” Quentin said, closing his book with a decisive thud. “See you all tomorrow at the auditorium, where I will beat every single one of you motherfuckers out for that internship.”

Mark guffawed. “You wish,” he said.

“See you guys later.” I waved to Quentin who just held his hand up in farewell as he hurried down the stairs.

“Want me to walk you back to your apartment?” Mark said. I was tempted—it was late, after all—but he had already packed up and all of my papers still lay spread out in front of me. Also, I felt like being alone for a while.

“Nah,” I said. “Gotta check out a book before I go. See you later!”

“Okay,” Mark said, a half-smile dimpling his face. “See you!”

I stood up and stretched, looking through the windows overlooking the lawn below. I half-expected to see the man standing there below, staring up at me. Eliot.

He wasn’t there. A few drunken undergraduates stumbled across the snow-crusted grass, clothed in overly skimpy miniskirts and Ugg boots. Nobody in California knew how to dress for the cold. My eyes focused on the snowflakes stuck to the window pane. It was cold. I should go home. The internship thing was Sunday, and I had been running on a sleep deficit for far too long.

This is important to you, right?

Mark’s words came back to me as I stared out the window, and the snowflakes blurred into a cottony white as tears filled my eyes. All of the junior-level math majors vied for the internship each year, but for me this prize was more personal. Sure, the free travel was tempting, and the semester abroad at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences would brighten my resume with prestige. But that wasn’t the main reason I wanted to win the internship prize, not by far.





CHAPTER THREE



“The pleasure we obtain from music comes from counting, but counting unconsciously. Music is nothing but unconscious arithmetic.” - Liebniz