The Girl who Couldn't Come Read Online Free PDF Page B

incantation. It was a coded message that sent electricity through her whole body and she put her own meaning into it, right there. 

    She stands up and motions for him to do the same. 

    “They’re in my closet.” she says and she meets his eyes in a way she knows looks good. In the closet, she pulls out the box of receipts, which is right on top. Then she pulls out the dirty magazines, one by one, setting them beside the door of the closet. He eyes them, but doesn’t say anything. She moves slower, making her gestures more pronounced, exaggerated, like the plot points in a dirty movie. When she reaches the math book, the book of exercises, her fingers brush against the embossed cover. She turns and makes a pout and in a small voice, she says, “Do you know much about math?” 

    He smiles. 

    “I did my graduate studies in number theory,” he says. It’s unexpected, and there’s suddenly a cold spot in her stomach, but she makes herself smile. “I like to think I’m pretty good.” he says. 
    Rose pulls the book out, where he can see it. 

    “Then maybe you can help me,” she says. She opens the book to the middle, and takes a marker from her pocket. She passes it to him, letting her fingers linger on his, and then pulls her hand away. 

    She rolls up her sleeve and there is an equation written there, in black. It’s a series of symbols and numbers. There are Roman and Greek letters, all together, strung along a line that begins on the inside of her elbow. It is from a random page in the book. She has no idea what it means. 

    “That’s not quite what I studied,” he says, and she knows that this is the smile that he considers his charming smile. This is the one he pulls out in bars, or when he’s being introduced to women he knows are single. She smiles back and touches the top button of her blouse with her other hand. 

    “If you can solve this one, there are more.” she says and he looks again at the equation. He looks at it more seriously this time, taking her hand to hold the arm steady. She knows the answer, symbol for symbol, but has no idea what it means. She knows what it means to her. It’s the first in a series of locks, lines of defense. 

    This is how it works. He’ll struggle with the first question, but solve it. He’ll solve the second and third, too. But they never make it past the fourth, and she sleeps with them anyway, because she feels bad. Because she’s worried that nobody can make it past the fourth, or the fifth.  

    He reaches out for the book, but she shakes her head no and holds it closer to herself. He has a tight grin on his face. 

    “It’s been a while,” he says and she nods. There are symbols there that she’d never even seen in high school math and the farther beneath her clothes he gets, the less like counting the math would become. Eventually it would be nothing but magic to him and he would give up. 

    Only, he doesn’t give up. He solves the first equation, writing the answer onto her palm, the soft tip of the marker moving with fast confidence. She pulls up the other sleeve, and he does it again, faster this time. He’s smiling now and she undoes the front of her blouse. 

    “I hope you don’t think this is going to make me any easier on your taxes,” he laughs. 

    There are five equations on her chest, all drawn carefully with the black marker. She doesn’t even have to look down to know that he’s writing out the answers properly, symbol for symbol, perfect. His handwriting is like hers and he draws the symbols with the same care. 

    When he’s done, he looks up from where he is knelt before her belly, and she nods. He undoes the first button of her jeans and begins to pull the zipper down. 

    “Give me the marker,” she says. With both hands free, he pulls her pants to the ground and her legs are naked and unmarked. He reaches for the waistband of her panties, but Rose shakes her head. 

    She takes the cap off the marker and she