Page 174 of Monstrous Serpent

Two weeks later

Cody’s been locked in on a makeup assignment for the past twenty minutes. Now he’s starting to shift, tapping his pen harder on the table.

I walk over and set the sandwich down next to him. “Eat.”

He pulls one AirPod out and looks up. “Huh?”

“Take a break and eat something.” I sit in the chair next to him, then push the plate closer. “It’s chicken, avocado, and tomato.”

“Thanks.” He takes one half and bites into it. “Fuck, this is good.”

“Or you’re just hungry.” I take a swig from the can of Fanta, watching him stare at the laptop screen. “Those audio files helping?”

“It’s easier than reading. But sometimes none of it sticks. Like I hear the words, but they don’t sink in.”

“Probably because of the meds. And your body’s still healing.” I lean in and kiss his temple. “Give it time.”

He sighs. “I know.”

I sit back, taking another swig of pop as he changes to the next slide. Some of his friends have been sending recorded lectures. Other times, Atlas and I record audio for written notes, so he can listen instead of read. Started doing it because the pain meds make him dizzy. But Atlas read somewhere it helps with dyslexia too.

Cody takes too big a bite of his sandwich, huffing as he pulls the remaining AirPod from his ear. “This is the second time I’m listening, and I still don’t get it.”

I scoot my chair closer. “Show me.”

He angles the laptop, so I can see the scatterplot graph. “Doyle’s audio walked me through it step-by-step, but I don’t understand what I’m looking at.”

“Okay, where are you getting stuck?”

Cody drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “It’s . . . I know what the bottom means, then I look at the side, then I forget what the bottom was. And by the time I figure out the dots, I’ve lost the question.”

“Then don’t look at the whole thing.” I tap the bottom of the graph. “Start here. Money spent.”

He nods.

I move my finger to the side. “Money made.”

“Okay.”

“One dot at a time.”

Cody stares at the screen. His eyes move from the bottom axis to the side, then back again. His pen starts tapping.

“Go slow. Use your finger.”

He glares at me, but after a second, he puts his finger on the first dot.

“Good.” I run my thumb over the tab on the can of Fanta as he works through a few dots. “What do you notice?”

Cody’s finger pauses on one near the bottom left. “They didn’t spend much here.”

“And?”

“They didn’t make much.” He moves to another dot farther right, higher up. “Spent more here. Made more.”

I nod.

He keeps going, slower this time. One dot. Then another. “It mostly goes up.”