Acquired number synesthesia made easy. A fun reading for kids.
Q:
I’m a reclusive genius. ... As it turns out, I’m more than just numbers. (c)
Q:
Life is like an equation, and mine is perfectly balanced.
Nana + Uncle Paul + Math = Happiness.
Other people might need to add in friends or sports or money or something else, but my equation is already solved. (c)
Q:
I’ve thought of myself as a genius, a savant, and a freak, but never an orphan. (c)
Q:
Savant means that my math skills are far beyond normal, and acquired means I wasn’t born with this wacky ability. I got it because I was holding a metal fence during a lightning storm. (c)
Q:
Cecelia didn’t get any special powers. We stopped being friends soon after that. (c)
Q:
But really, I’m brain damaged. Part of my left lobe has been turned off, and now my right lobe works overtime. (c)
Q:
Every number has its own color and shape. Take the number 5—it’s a jelly bean shape, red-brown, like the color of Carolina mud. The number 12 is a set of cream-colored squares. The number 47 is a fluorescent-orange oval. Prime numbers have curves. Non-primes have hard edges.
These colors and shapes make it fun and easy to play with numbers, and I can find patterns in anything from the stock market to baseball games to the price of cereal. (c)
Q:
When people meet me, they expect Einstein or Maryam Mirzakhani (if they’re familiar with recent mathematical geniuses). But instead, they get the 1 and only freaky-strange Lucy. (c)
Q:
Uncle Paul said sometime after 4:00 p.m. It’s only 4:11. So, technically, he’s not late, and he won’t ever be, even if he doesn’t show up for days. (c)
Q:
“I have 4 friends.”
“Who?” Nana asks.
“SquareHead314, HipHypotenuse, Numberlicious, and GregS77.” (c)
Q:
... He…or she…can explain things in the simplest terms.”
“He or she?” ...
“Don’t be sexist. (c)
Q:
“I should be going to college,” I snap. Or at least high school.
“I don’t think so. You need to work on some of your soft skills before I send you off to MIT. (c)
Q:
“And if you die when you’re 80, that’s in 7,305 days. And it’ll be a Sunday.” ...
But Rachel started crying when she heard her best friend, Sofia Garcia, would outlive her by 172 days. (c)
Q:
It’s army green (like the number 20)... (c)
Q:
I take a breath and realize that hiding in the dumpster would have been a better way to spend the day. (c)
Q:
Middle school is supposed to be the worst. It’s like a giant hazing for adulthood. We all gotta go through it. (c)
Q:
“Have you ever heard the saying ‘Fake it till you make it’?” ...
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“It means you gotta act like you belong or act like you can do something, and eventually you’ll be able to.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” ...
“Go to school tomorrow with a big smile on your face and act like you belong there.”
Why do all adults think smiling is the answer?
...
“That’s right. And act like you belong at the popular lunch table and on the chess or basketball team or whatever extracurricular you want to do. Eventually, you’ll go from faking it to making it. It’s all about confidence. ... I’m basically giving you the secret to life, kiddo. No charge.” (c)
Q:
My walls are decorated with images of the Fibonacci spiral in nature: flower petals, pinecones, nautilus shells, far-off galaxies. (c)
Q:
I wouldn’t mind losing my sit-stand routine or not worrying about germs. But no one was taking away pi. (c)
Q:
Windy likes to think big, and she needs someone else to pull her back to earth. I’m her gravity. (c)
Q:
While he’s talking, I imagine showing him my world. He’d love to see math and numbers the way I do—in everything from the stars to building construction to ripples on a lake. Even water draining in the sink. I see circles and bisecting triangles that form equations in my brain. If only there were an easy way, like wearing special glasses; a lightning strike is too painful, and results aren’t guaranteed. (c)
Q:
“Engineering, science, finance, computer development, teaching, banking. These all require mathematics.” He leans forward on his stool. “But so do government, art, writing, love.” (c)
Q:
I’m starting to think working on a team is a form of torture. The teachers are doing this as part of a weird social experiment to see if they can make students hate each other. (c)
Q:
I’ll have to look up the number when I get home. I hate imprecise descriptions like lots, few, and hardly any. (c)
Q:
“Hi, my name is Lucy Callahan, and I have some questions for a school project.”
“What kind of questions?”
“How many dogs can your shelter hold? How many dogs get adopted each month? How many cats can you hold? How many cats—”
“All that information is available on the website.”
“No, it’s not. I have the website open in front of me.”
“Then it’s not public information. I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry.
“You don’t know how many dogs you have there?” I ask. “You just have to count.” (c)
Q:
Levi and I live in the same world, but we see things very differently. I guess it would be boring if we all had the same view. (c)
Q:
My brain lets me see these perfect circles filled with triangles defined by the ratio pi. More beautiful math that surrounds me everywhere. (c)
Q:
“Do you realize that everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like an insult?” ...
“Does not.”
“Yes, it does.” He nods. “You’re really talented.” (c)
Q:
“Is that the mean, median, or mode?” Most people use mean for average, but I want to be sure.
“It’s a guess.” … “I can show you our records. And you can mean, media, and mole the data yourself.” (c)
Q:
Sometimes the cosmos or God is trying to tell us something, (c)
Q:
Things are coming together. Correlation and causality. Things are making sense. (c)
Q:
“We need some good ideas, like right now.”
“Let’s just have a bake sale, raise some money, and get it over with,” Levi says.
“Do you bake?” I lie back on my bed.
“No.”
“Think bigger,” Windy demands.
“A big bake sale,” Levi says. (c)
Q:
I stare at my solution, lost in the beauty of it. The way an art lover would look at a painting in a museum. Then I tear it into little pieces and flush it down the toilet. Unlike an original artistic masterpiece, I can do the problem again, and it will be just as beautiful. (c)
Q:
LightningGirl: not all problems are solvable
SquareHead314: True.
SquareHead314: Sometimes solutions take time
LightningGirl: I’m out of time
SquareHead314: Sometimes solutions take a team
SquareHead314: Let me know if I can help. You never ask for help. (c)
Q:
I can fake being normal, and eventually I will be. (c)