Chapter 7: Eigenvalues and Ego

Less than a week later, I regretted those words.

I ate my words faster than Camila could finish a bag of Skittles. Reality was cruel.

Deeply regretted, heartbroken.

My pride had cost me dearly. I considered transferring to another school—maybe one that didn’t require math.

Linear algebra is truly inhuman; no matter how I studied, I kept getting things wrong. It hurt my soul.

My notebook was a graveyard of failed attempts. I cried into my pillow more than once.

I asked Camila and Mariah for help, but after several methods, my linear algebra still didn't improve.

We tried flashcards, office hours, and YouTube—3Blue1Brown became our soundtrack—but eigenvalues still refused to click.

Camila sighed deeply, finally at a loss, then remembered, "Autumn, I heard Julian is really good at it. Why not ask him for help?"

She said it like it was the easiest solution in the world. I groaned, resisting the urge to scream.

"That would be the death of me." I slumped, doodling circles on scratch paper. "If Julian teaches me, who knows how much he'll mock me."

I pictured him laughing at my mistakes, posting memes about my math struggles in our group chat.

Turns out I slap my own face faster and faster.

I was desperate enough to eat crow. Humiliation was better than failing.

After weighing it, the next day I went to the lab, cheerfully tagging along behind him. "Julian, anything I can help with? Need me to sterilize? Pour plates?"

I tried to sound helpful, hoping he’d take pity on me.

Julian only glanced at me for a second, then turned back to his colonies. "What’s with the sudden niceness—just say it, what do you want?"

He saw through me instantly. There was no fooling Julian Carter.

Ah, no wonder we've known each other so long—he gets me.

I gave up the act, pouting for effect.

I'll get to the point, pitifully: "Julian, can you save my linear algebra? If not, I'm doomed."

I clasped my hands, giving him my best puppy eyes.

Julian laughed. "Didn't you say you could pass on your own before? Why the change now?"

He poked me in the shoulder, smirk in full effect.

"Yeah, that was on me." I blinked hard, gently tugging his sleeve, acting cute. "Julian, save your junior."

I knew the power of cuteness, and I wasn’t above using it.

"Autumn, you said it. Own it." Julian continued.

He sounded like my mom when she caught me sneaking cookies before dinner.

I'm not a gentleman. I never thought I was one.

I shrugged, accepting my fate. If I had to grovel, so be it.

After much pleading, Julian finally agreed to tutor me.

He made me promise to do every problem three times, hit recitation and office hours, and banned me from TikTok until finals. Harsh, but effective.

He had his own method for tutoring. I relied on him for the last half month, and not only passed linear algebra, but scored a ninety.

We whiteboarded at the library till closing, DoorDashed fries at midnight, and somewhere between orthogonal projections and the spectral theorem, eigenvalues finally made sense. Ninety! I nearly fainted when I saw the grade.

"Ninety? Not bad, teachable." Julian looked into the microscope. "Just like I was back in the day."

He flexed his nerd credentials, and I basked in the praise.

I sprawled on the stool, stretching and sighing. "Finally can go home and enjoy summer break."

The relief was indescribable. I texted my parents, bragging shamelessly.

"Oh?" Julian glanced at me, then poured cold water. "Maybe not, you still have to help in the lab over summer."

His words hit like a thunderbolt. I’d already packed my sunscreen.

Thunderstruck, "Why?"

I sat upright, panic rising. I’d planned to binge-watch all of Stranger Things.

"Because you live closest to campus." Julian looked at me. "Lane, unenthusiastic students aren't welcome in our lab. Dr. Keller’s grant deadline is in August—we need hands on the PCR optimization."

He sounded like a villain in an old teen movie, but the project sounded real enough. I groaned, knowing arguing was pointless.