“And my mom made me take those advanced classes because—”
“I know. Because she teaches statistics at the college,” Nathan interrupted. “I guess Lydia figures she can talk to anyone taking advanced math classes.”
“She’s got way more brains than me,” I acknowledge. “Hey, what was your dad talking about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, at the end of the sermon.”
“I wasn’t paying attention,” Nathan says. “Why?” “He was talking about Isaac Newton.”
“Really? Who knows,” Nathan replies. “I kind of tune him out on most Sundays. I mean I hear all that stuff at home.”
“Luke,” my mother yells from across the parking lot.
Nathan waves at Mom. “Hi, Mrs. Alexander.” “Hello, Nathan,” she says.
“Coming, Mom. Hey, Nathan, why don’t you come over later?” I ask.
“I’ll check with my parents. You know how it is, Sunday and all . . . if we don’t have to go visiting a church family.”
“Okay. Just text me.”
Walking out of the church, I realize for the first time I am excited about learning a subject not taught in school. Who would ever think someone my age would want to investigate Isaac Newton?
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