“Are you talking about that professor who reached rotation precesses?”
“Exactly, everyone thought the spin was similar to a spinning top’s behavior—gyroscopic stability and all that. But it’s constantly interacting with air currents, which alter its spin axis dynamically, so…” I thought I’d let Ian finish for the ultimate teachable moment.
“Airflow creates a dynamic torque on the ball. The spiral isn’t just stable spinning; it’s a dynamic system responding to continuous external torques like gyroscopic precession.” He elbowed Annabelle. “The external torque due to air modifies the spin axis, making it precess. The football’s axis makes a cone shape around the direction of motion. This is why the nose tilts down toward the end of the pass.” He sat back, waiting for her to be impressed, which she seemed to be at first, and then the two started chatting back and forth about theoretical calculations and computer simulations to prove the behavior. That gave me time to stare at Craig, who in turn was staring at the boards, pale. Did he not feel well? We could always reschedule if he was coming down with something.
Ian finally turned back to me. “So, you’re giving us a perfect example of how theoretical physics applies to everyday phenomena, and you want to use math in the same way?”
“Maths,” I corrected.
Ian frowned. “Math,” he repeated.
“Maths,” I sighed with added drama. “Maths is short for mathematics, hence the extra s.”
Ian wrinkled his nose. “Is that like a Brit thing?”
I held back the sarcasm and smiled, pretty used to the banter. “Not, it’s like a word thing.”
Ian snickered and shook his head. “You Brits really like to add extra letters, huh? Next thing you’ll tell me is that color needs aUor something.”
I noticed Craig shooting the kid a sharp glance, but Annabelle beat Craig to whatever he was going to say.
“Rude,” she huffed and elbowed the boy, and something in her admonishment made Ian sit straighter—jeez, he wanted to impress her something bad.
“Sorry, sir, doctor, Jamie,” Ian fumbled.
“It’s okay. So back to what I was saying, uhm, understanding these principles could definitely give you all an edge, knowing exactly how to control the pass more effectively in football, understanding the geometry of the spiral in hockey, or the gravitational force applied to a set of gymnastic movements. So, let’s get started.”
I handed out the clipboards with the questionnaire. Craig took his as if it were an unexploded bomb, placing it on his lap on top of the hoodie.
“What I need from you is a baseline of your understanding of spirals, just single words is fine, how it might help you to control your movements on a mathematical basis.”
Ian was already scribbling, Annabelle, reading the form thoroughly. It was only a few pages, the usual questions, names, health and safety forms, and then some aims for their participation and what they hoped to gain from it.
Craig hadn’t shifted from his initial frozen posture since receiving the clipboard. “I’ll do this at home, Dr. Hennessy,” he said finally, his voice firm yet quiet.
“Please, call me Jamie,” I reminded him, and he stared at me. I was puzzled by his reaction. “It’s okay, I know it’s a lot of boxes, it’s really not meant to be detailed. Just a few questions that help us understand your thoughts on what I need to achieve.”
He shook his head, eyes not meeting mine. “I’ll handle it at home.”
His response left me confused. “It’s really straightforward, Craig. Nothing you need to really think about. You can leave the aims bit if you like,” I pressed, not understanding his reluctance.
Craig stood abruptly. The clipboard and hoodie tumbled to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I appreciate you asking me to be part of this, Jamie, but I have to step out of this study,” he said calmly, his voice carrying a finality that stopped me short.
I watched, stunned, as he strode toward the door without another word. A mixture of shock and concern propelled me after him. “Craig! Wait, is this because of—because we had sex?” The question was out before I could reel it back, and I glanced at Ian and Annabelle who were staring with mouths open. Fuck. Had I just outed him? Fuck. “Only joking,” I added lamely, but it was too late, and I’d seriously fucked up.
He turned to face me, with an unreadable expression, although he didn’t look furious, merely disappointed. He glanced left and right then grabbed my arm and encouraged me down the corridor and into a stairwell. “Dr. Hennessy?—”
“Jamie, please, and god, I didn’t mean to out you?—”
“It’s not that, and it’s nothing to do with us having sex.” He cradled my face and backed me against the wall. “That part of my life works great,” he murmured, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he tugged my face to his and rested his forehead against mine.
“I don’t belong in there. I have dyslexia. I can’t read the form quickly like everyone else, and I have software that reads it, and special… look, I’m not stupid, but I’m not academic,” he explained, his voice low but resolute. “I thought you knew.”
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Here was Craig, strong and confident in so many ways, confronting achallenge that went largely unseen by those around him, and I hadn’t known. I never even thought about making my study open to everyone, I assumed with him being an athlete that he’d be…
What?
“I didn’t realize,” I managed to say, feeling utterly inadequate.
