“They said I have to get my high school credits before I
can officially qualify to be a Ranger,” she said. “I have to
sit the exams for English, Science-” she gestured hopelessly
at the meaningless disparate in front of her. “And this tema
estúpido.”
“Let me see that,” he said, and pulled the book over to
him. “Ah! Optimization, that’s cake! All you have to do to
optimize a function on a closed interval is find all the places
where the derivative of zero doesn't exist and compare the
values of the function at these points and the end points of
your interval.”
She blinked, and blinked again, and he chuckled. “Okay,
okay. Calculus is tough. But I’ll make you a deal.”
She eyed him with suspicion.
“I will help you out with calculus – if you promise that
the next time we fight, you won’t try quite so hard to kill
me?”
She blushed to the roots of her hair, but he was smiling,
and she knew they were going to be okay. “Es un trato. It’s
a deal.”
ann
(Ann)
#1