Calculus is by far my favorite subject. Nothing quite puts your world back in order like a little complicated math. It's the one place where I know, whatever the problem is, it has a solution and one I can get to if not easily. At least I can say I'll get there eventually.

Calculus doesn't bring you problems like: How do you get a girl you no longer like to leave you alone? Or how do you explain you have your own life to live to a pair of really loving parents who have devoted themselves to you since birth?

So, I open my workbook and sigh happily as I read:

1. Find the area above the x-axis, to the left of x = 8, to the right of x = 5, and below y = 2x+4.

See what I mean, simple.

Not like that other blaring problem of a note that is now sitting in my pocket given to me by a strange little girl with huge brown eyes and blue streaked hair. What does it say? What could she have written? Would I even understand it?

I knew better than to open it here in class. Mr. Hauber is a real ballbuster when it comes to that kind of stuff and I most definitely did not want him to confiscate it. Still, not knowing is killing me and my ability to concentrate. Today will definitely be an eventual kind of day.

Time does what it does best and kept moving forward. Only solved six of the ten problems we were supposed to solve today but hey at least it was more than half. The bell rings and I practically race to the Activities Office. I should be in homeroom at this time but I chose to work in the Activities Office instead because it looks good on my record or so I was told.

After rapidly sorting the teachers' mail into their boxes and making the copies needed for tomorrow's announcements, I finally have a few minutes to myself.

I take a quick look around to be sure I am alone and pull the note from my pocket. Taking a moment to appreciate the fact that Brynn is even unique when folding pieces of paper.

Most people would have just chosen to fold it in half and in half again until it was the size they needed. Not Brynn. She folds it in a way that makes this perfect envelope. I wouldn't even know how to open it if she didn't mark the middle piece with PULL and an arrow pointing down in red. I pull it and it springs to life.

Even her handwriting is cool. Not the big loopy letters with hearts over every i like how Jessica signs her name or the sloppy letters I get from one of the guys on the team. This was just... well Brynn.

I can tell it was written slowly and with care.  As I read her letter I realized she must have struggled with words as she wrote them.

Finn,

Thinking back on this morning perhaps I do owe you an apology.

I usually only use the 8-ball when the decision involves only me.

Sorry, I panicked.

I know to you it is probably crazy.

My using "a toy" to make decisions for me.

My mind sometimes gets muddled.

Filled with the here and now.

So filled that sometimes it hurts.

That probably doesn't make any sense to you.

I wish I could explain. Let's just say I have so much going on up there that

to take the pressure off I use the "toy" as a tool to make things easier.

I don't know why I wrote this letter.

How could you understand?

I don't always understand it myself.

Maybe I can explain it best with a question.

Wouldn't you just once like to make a decision without having to think about it?

Well, for what it's worth,

which probably isn't much.

You seem like a nice guy, so...

Sorry.

Brynn Shelby

She signed the letter with both her first and last name making the letter feel formal although the content is so personal. Like she is desperately trying to give me a glimpse into her world but is clueless or frustrated about how. Out of everything she wrote it was the question that got to me the most. Wouldn't you just once like to make a decision without having to think about it?

Boy, would I! In fact, I was pondering that very thought this morning before school. "to take the pressure off" She began making more sense by the second. In fact, I found myself wishing I too had a Magic Eight Ball to make decisions for me. I smiled. Wouldn't that be something?

For example, right now it would be great to use it to decide if should I write her back or just leave it be. After all, I did get what I set out for this morning. Brynn did apologize but if I were honest with myself I really wanted our interaction to continue even if it made me a little nuts. She shakes up my world like a snow globe, instead of the steady constant it's been every day up until this morning.

Every day I know exactly what I'm doing from the time my eyes open to when they close again. No surprises, no delays, always pressing forward toward some goal I'm not certain I want to achieve, but know I will nonetheless.

I found myself envying Brynn a little. She appears to live in the moment. What else would you call allowing your decisions to be made by a toy? "A toy." She always put it in quotes. Byrnn was using my words against me. Obviously, she doesn't see it that way but was trying to bring the explanation down to my level so I might understand. Oh, how I understand. How I wish I could for just a moment live in her world.

Is it too late for me?

That's when I made my decision and ripped a piece of paper from my copybook to begin to write Brynn Shelby a letter.

My Mom's voice comes over the PA system, reading the day's announcements.

"Stage crew will meet today after school to begin work on set design for the play, A Midsummer Night's Dream. Posted outside of the Activities Office will be the results from last week's auditions. Honor roll for this quarter is now available to see outside the Principal's office. And this Friday there will be a pep rally held in the gym before Friday night's varsity game against Eastern High. Go Leopards!"

The end of announcements brings the end of homeroom and my time in the Activities Office. I have no other choice than to place my letter to Brynn in my copybook to be completed at another time.

Another bell, another class. It won't be until study hall I'll get the chance to write the letter. Which is probably for the best for if I'm honest I haven't a clue what to say. Lunch, my only other free period today, will be too chaotic with the guys I eat with at my table. I want a chance to say just the right thing. Even though I don't know what that thing is.

I'm not used to being confused. My brain hurts and once again I think of Brynn's words. 

"My mind sometimes gets muddled. Filled with the here and now. So filled sometimes it hurts." 

If this is how she lives every day no wonder she escapes into her sketchpad or book and uses a keychain to make decisions. Maybe she isn't so crazy after all.