Название: The Oysterville Sewing Circle
Автор: Susan Wiggs
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9780008151393
isbn:
With an elaborate sigh, May Lowry surrendered her phone to the charging station. “All present and accounted for,” he said, then turned to the whiteboard to pose the first problem of the day. “So let’s say you’re starting a car trip at nine in the morning from a point—”
“What point?” called someone in the back.
“From wherever, moron,” said the kid next to him. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I say it matters.”
“Fine,” Will interjected. “New York City. Your car trip is starting in New York City.”
“And where am I going?” asked May.
“Oysterville,” said another kid, “where else? Aren’t we the center of the universe?”
“Listen up,” Will said. “The plot thickens. You’re traveling at forty miles per hour. At ten a.m., another car started traveling from the same point at sixty miles per hour in the same direction. At what time will that car catch up and pass you?” He sketched out the problem on the board.
Jana Lassiter raised her hand. She was a cheeky girl, smart and fun to have in class. “I have a question. If I’m in New York City, why would I ever leave and come back here?”
“Yeah, good question,” someone else said.
“We’re America’s Tidewater Vacationland,” Will said, “according to the highway billboard. But that’s not the point—”
“Have you been to New York City?” Jana asked.
Will was sorry he’d brought it up.
“Mr. Jensen’s been all over the world,” said another girl, Helen Stokes. Embarrassingly, she was one of several girls who had a crush on him, which he pretended not to notice. “In the navy, right, Mr. Jensen?”
“Again, not the point. This is a rate, time, and distance problem.”
“How is this going to help us in the real world?” asked someone.
“You’re not even going to get to the real world if you don’t pass this class,” Will pointed out.
“Did you have to know this stuff to be a Navy SEAL?”
“Math was just the tip of the iceberg,” Will said.
“Is it true you got injured saving a life? Is it true you have a glass eye?”
“A prosthetic eye. I’ll tell you what’s true,” Will said, easily skirting the topic. “Detention, that’s what. And you’re about three seconds from a maximum sentence.”
Chastened, the boy slumped in his chair. “Sorry, sir.”
“So instead of trying to distract everyone, let’s work the problem, people. Let’s let D1 equal the distance of the first car, and t equals time …”
Distance, rate, and time, reduced to a neat equation. It wasn’t messy. It had one and only one solution, not a hundred possible paths and permutations. If Caroline Shelby left town at warp speed and traveled a distance of a whole continent and ten years, at what point would he quit wondering what might have been?
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