Eighteen (18)(54)

“Does he study the planets?”

“Ahhh…” Damn. I should know this. “He studies stars. And… exoplanets. Those are planets that orbit around stars that are very far away from our sun.” I feel proud that I actually remember that. Mateo has been reading about exoplanets all semester.

“I think I like stars.”

“Mmm,” I say, my eyes wandering to the picture of Mateo in her program. He’s got his dress shirt sleeves rolled up in that picture and I can see his tattoos. “Me too.”

The lights dim and Mateo comes out of the special door that leads to the control room, and then all the kids start shushing each other to be quiet.

“Good afternoon,” he starts, his eyes finding me immediately. I smile at him. Beam at him, actually. I’ve never really seen Mateo in his work mode. He’s all smart and sexy-looking right now.

He introduces himself and tells the kids a little bit about his project, why he’s here, and what they can expect. And then the place goes complete black and every kid gasps.

But then the ceiling lights up with stars and begins to move. It swirls, slowly at first, making the stars begin to blur, and then faster and faster until the kids are squealing and the stars are so blurred, they form white circles above out heads.

It stops, and Mateo talks. And with each thing he describes, the show above us changes. We move past the Solar System and he zooms in on a faraway smear of bright colors, calling it by name.

And when I look around, every head is turned up. Every mouth is open in awe. And every set of eyes is filled with wonder.

Mateo has that effect on me as well.

He talks about the stars for a long time. He talks about faraway planets that we can’t actually see, but he’s got animations that capture everyone’s attention and make them all go, “Ohhhh.”

God, I might love this man for real.

And then he brings us all back to Earth and lights the ceiling up with the outlines of the constellations. “The ancients came up with these pictures,” Mateo says. “But you can come up with your own pictures in the stars. Should we make a new one today?”

“Yes!” they all scream.

“OK,” he says, clicking the remote in his hand. “But we have to solve problems to do it. So who knows the answer to this problem?”

It’s an easy multiplication problem, so they all shout it out. And up above us, a line appears. It connects one star to the next. He calls out another problem, and another, and each time the lines connect the stars like a dot-to-dot puzzle.

“He’s spelling something,” rowdy Kani whispers from the other side of pigtail girl.

“It’s a name,” my new friend whispers back.

It is a name. My name.

“Are there any Shannons in here?” Mateo asks once it’s all spelled out.

Everyone looks around, searching for Shannon.

“Come on, someone here is named Shannon.” He looks right at me. I shake my head, so embarrassed. “You?” he calls out to me. “Your name is Shannon?” He holds out his hand. “Come here, Shannon.” And he says it in that growly voice he usually reserves for our kitchen antics.

The girls next to me squeal and the pigtailed one starts pushing me to join him up front.

“Oh, my God.” But I get up and walk over to him, taking his hand.

“This is my girlfriend,” he says, looking at me with the biggest grin. “And I tricked her into coming to see this show today so I could ask her something.”

Everyone gasps.

“You are not doing this,” I whisper, my back to the crowd.

“I am,” he whispers back, then raises his voice. “She’s the smartest girl in here, but she doesn’t think she is.”

Kids start calling out sweet things about my brain and I almost double over in laughter.

“I’ve been tricking her for months now. Making her solve problems so that when I asked her this question, I could trace her solutions in the stars and get the answer I wanted.”

Snickers.

“So, Shannon Drake, here’s my question.” I roll my eyes. I know he’s not going to ask me to marry him, that is ridiculous. I’m eighteen years old. “What do you think about me so far?” He winks. “Should we see what Shannon’s answer is in the stars?”

“Yes!” they all call out.

He hands me the little clicker he’s using to start each animation. “Be my guest,” he says. “I can’t wait to see what you have to say.”

Jesus Christ. I have never smiled so much in my life.

I click through the animations, one at a time. Slowly at first, but the kids urge me to go faster to see what it says.

They call it after a few letters.

“I love you,” I say, when the presentation is complete.

“I never doubted you, babe.” He’s grinning so wide, so proud of himself. And the kids are going crazy with excitement. “Thank you for coming, everyone, and there’s lots of puzzles for you to solve in your programs today, so make sure you go home and figure them all out. Now let me ask you one more question.”

He waits as they settle.

“Do I make science and math fun or what?”

A chorus of screaming yeses.

Wildly successful presentation over.