Zeroes

“It will be so much fun dad, can’t wait. See you Monday!”

“See you Monday, sweetie. I love you.”

She hung up the phone, leaving George in disbelief. His own daughter, transferring to the high school where he taught out of the blue. The daughter he only saw every other weekend since his acrimonious divorce three years prior. Finally, they would get to spend time together, quality time. Lunch times, breaks, extracurriculars: he would make sure to seize each and every opportunity given to him to make up for the time lost. Carpe Diem.

This unexpected gift of life had to be Sophie's own decision. It couldn’t have come from her mother, who much preferred her alma mater, a private academy miles away from here. For Sophie to leave these hallowed halls to study at Keough, the desire to rebuild her connection with her father must have played a role.

George leaned back in his torn-up leather armchair, staring emptily at the sulky walls of his empty apartment. The clock ticked on at the same pace it always did, unaware that time had stopped as far as the lonely father was concerned. The seconds used to slip through his fingers when he found himself with Sophie, desperate to freeze and preserve these precious instants. Now, it was as though there would always be time. The precious sand in the hourglass no longer threatened to run out.

***

“I would love to join the Mathletes!”

The request took George by surprise. He almost choked on the tasteless fettuccine from the school cantina. Sophie stared at him with starry eyes on the other side of the cafeteria table, anxiously awaiting his response. The loud ambient noise made it difficult for him to choose the right words.

“What a wonderful idea,” he replied with little conviction in his voice. “I’m just a little bit surprised, I thought you didn’t like math all that much.”

“Saying it’s my forte might be a bit of an exaggeration,” she chuckled. “I don’t hate it, though. Some topics are really interesting. Quabratics, sonic sections, all that jazz.”

“You mean quadratics. And conic sections.”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

George finished swallowing his bite somewhat more slowly than usual, buying himself as much time as possible.

“Your dedication makes me so proud Soph. It really does.”

“Thanks dad,” she said, beaming.

“You do know Mathletics meetings are at the same time as Model UN, right? I thought you were really interested in international diplomacy?”

“I was, but you don’t coach Model UN dad. My goal here is to spend more time with you.”

A soul-splitting conflict burgeoned in the depths of George’s conscience. While Sophie’s sentiments touched his heart, his head had been focused on winning this year’s State Tournament since their loss in Finals last year. The team was very competitive, and so was he. The rowdy kids sitting at the table next to them were throwing fettuccine at each other, but although he was always the first one to chastise this kind of behavior from students, his intense focus on the conversation made him completely oblivious to his usual pet peeve.

“Sweetie,” he replied in a heavy sigh. “You can’t sacrifice your true passions for my sake.”

“It’s not a sacrifice at all. It’s an investment. I’m investing time in our relationship, and in my math education at the same time. Truth be told, my math education definitely needs it.”

“Won't it be a lot of pressure on you? We have a big tournament coming up, training will be crazy.”

“Don’t worry about me, dad. I’ll be fine.”

The bell rang. Sophie hurried to collect her belongings and kissed her father on the cheek before running off. He stayed behind, lost in empty stares again, albeit for a different reason this time. Time was no longer frozen; it raced like a sportscar towards the ill-fated date of the Tournament.

***

“It’s nine.”

“No.”

“Sorry, it’s six.”

George took a deep breath and engulfed as much air as his lungs could take in. The other Mathletes looked at the spectacle from the side of the classroom, wide-eyed at the tangent the training session had taken.

“Think about it Soph,” said George. “Quadratics either have two roots, one root, or no root at all.”

“Right,” she said. “So it’s both six and nine.”

“NO,” he said, losing control over the volume of his voice. “The discriminant is negative. There are no roots.”

“How can it have no roots?” she asked.

“Because the parabola is concave up above the x-axis.”

By then, Sophie’s classmates were growing restless. Maria, the team captain, stepped forward, firing stares of frustration at Sophie.

“May we be excused Mr. Nolan?” she said. “I believe this training session has nothing else for us.”

“You may,” answered George, his skin slightly red. “Be sure to test yourselves daily with the flashcards until the competition however. See you Saturday.”

“For sure. Thank you Mr. Nolan.”

The Mathletes all left the room, glancing at Sophie with exasperated eyes one last time on their way out.

“I’m so sorry dad,” said Sophie. “Nerves got the best of me, I just need a bit more practice.”

“Listen Soph,” said George. “I know you’ve been working really hard, but we need to bring it Saturday. I’ve been after this title for years, and we really have a chance this time.”

“We’ll get it for you dad. The other kids are all pros.”

“Yes, but we’re only as strong as—”

He stopped himself short from finishing the sentence, just as he noticed Sophie’s change of demeanour.

“As strong as what?”

“Forget it, I didn’t—”

“The weakest link? Is that what you were going to say?”

“I didn’t mean it like this.”

Her eyes were flooding with tears.

“I promise I’ll put in the work before the tournament. The debate club took a good chunk of my time, but I—”

“Sophie, how can you not get it? YOU DON'T KNOW math! Why the hell would you want to take part in this? No matter how much time you spend on it, you'll never be up to the level we need!”

Complete silence followed. As the tears started to make their way down her cheeks, Sophie finally decided to break it.

“Sorry for wanting to spend more time with you dad. It won’t happen again.”

She ran out. George pictured himself running after her, but didn’t. He regretted his outburst, but it might have been a necessary evil.

***

The tournament had been successful, up to a point. George was now driving back home, on his own. If it wasn’t for Maria missing that last question on conic sections, the trophy would have been theirs. They were now coming home empty handed, just like last year. Another year of yearning for the title with desperate ambition loomed ahead.

A light rain showered over his windshield. The clouds of grey over his head clouded both the sky and his mind. A call came in on his car's Bluetooth.

"Sophie? Is that you?"

"Hey dad," replied Sophie on the other side of the line. "I just watched the livestream. Too bad you guys missed the final question."

"I know," he replied. "I don't know what was going on in her head. The eccentricity was clearly 0.6."

"Actually, it was 1.2. She didn't realize it was a hyperbola, not an ellipse."

The surprise was such that George pulled over to the side of the road, just as the rain conveniently intensified.

"How... how do you know that?"

"Like I said, I wanted to put in the work before the tournament, whether I took part in it or not."

A wave of pride washed over him.

"That's wonderful! You can definitely brag about it on Monday's meeting."

"Actually, I don't think I'll do Mathletics anymore. You're right, I'd rather chase my own dreams."

"No worries then. We can talk about your math skills next weekend instead."

"I also won't be there next weekend."

"But it's our--"

"I'm sorry dad, but I need some time on my own for now. It's better this way."

She hung up, leaving him in disbelief again. He glanced at the digital clock of his car radio. It was set to 00:00. The sand in the hourglass had simply run out.