Dex dropped me off at the beach house after our driving lesson.
“I’m never going to pass my driving test,” I groaned. “Never, ever, never.”
“That’s the spirit. Positive thinking will get you everywhere,” Dex said.
“I just don’t understand it. Why is driving so hard for me?” I asked. “Practically everyone in the world can do it.”
Dex looked thoughtful and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s your brain.” He glanced at me. “I mean, not that you’re defective or anything.”
“Thanks a lot!”
“I just mean that maybe your brain works differently. Look, you can solve really complex math problems in your head, the kind that ordinary people can barely do using a calculator, right?”
This was true. I’d had the bizarre ability to calculate sums in my head ever since I was little. My calculator-like brain had gotten me into the Notting Hill Independent School for Gifted Children, better known as Geek High, where I’d just completed my sophomore year. To enter Geek High, you have to have an IQ of at least 125. Most of the students that matriculated there also had some sort of a special talent. My best friend, Charlie, was an amazing painter. And our friend Finn created top-selling computer games.
Dex continued. “Maybe the part of your brain that solves math problems is so enormous, it saps power away from other areas of your brain. Like the part that controls how you drive a car.”
I wondered if Dex was right. Maybe this math dominance of my brain also explained why I have absolutely no fashion sense and can’t apply eye shadow without poking myself in the eye. Still, it wasn’t exactly flattering. I wanted my boyfriend to think of me as beautiful and charming, not as some sort of weirdo with a malfunctioning brain. Besides, it wasn’t like I wanted to be able to solve equations in my head. Math bored me. I much preferred writing short stories to solving theorems.
“You’re starting your new job tomorrow, right?” Dex asked.
I nodded. My summer job as an au pair to a ten-year-old girl named Amelia Fisher had been a last-minute surprise. Amelia was a student at Geek Elementary, and reportedly, a virtuoso at the piano. Our school headmaster, Philip C. Hughes, had recommended me to Amelia’s parents, or so Mrs. Fisher had told me when she called to offer me the job.
“I hope Amelia likes me,” I said. “I don’t have a lot of experience with kids. I babysat once, and it was a nightmare.”
“Why? What happened?” Dex asked.
“The kids wanted to play pirates.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Dex asked.
“ ‘Pirates’ meant they tied me to a tree. The little sociopaths left me there for the rest of the afternoon, while they went inside and watched a horror movie that their mother had specifically forbidden them to see. It was one of those gory ones, where people get hacked up with axes and stuff like that.”
Dex sputtered with laughter. “Did they ever let you go?”
“No! Their mother found me there when she got home. And she actually gave me a lecture about responsibility and said that if the kids had nightmares from the movie, it would be all my fault! Can you believe that?” I shook my head. “That was the beginning and end of my babysitting career.”
“So why exactly have you signed up to spend your entire summer babysitting?” Dex asked.
“Well, it’s not babysitting exactly. I think an au pair is more like being a companion.”
I felt weird telling him what Mrs. Fisher had actually said when she called to offer me the job: “Amelia has trouble relating to kids her age. I think it would be good for her to spend time with someone who’s grown-up exceptionally gifted, and knows what it’s like.” I didn’t like talking about being gifted. It sounded too braggy.
“I’m sure you’ll be great,” Dex said.
“Are you excited about your first day of work?” I asked.
Dex had gotten his old job back as a lifeguard at the local community pool. I was trying to be supportive and not fixate on the fact that this basically meant he’d be spending his summer surrounded by girls in bikinis.
“I’m just glad that I’ll be near the beach so I can fit in some parasurfing while I can.”
“While you can? What do you mean?” I asked. Dex surfed year-round. It was one of the perks of living in Florida.
Dex opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something. But then he seemed to reconsider. He shrugged and shook his head. “Just that the pool is across the street from the beach, so I’ll have easy access. Maybe I’ll even be able to go surfing on my breaks.”