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And, yeah, I have about ten million thoughts rushing through my head.
Mila turns back toward the table and looks down. “This is wrong.”
“What is wrong, honey?” I ask.
“This work,” she says. “This table you worked on. You repeated the same deprecation value twice… for year three to four.”
“Is that the one Willow checked?” I ask.
“No,” Mila says. “This is the side one. Look. Right here.”
I close in on Mila and see where she’s pointing.
“See? It’s the same. It should be a different value. When you’re working with depreciation, you want to make sure that-”
“How do you know this?” I ask.
“What? Basic financial stuff?”
“This is basic?”
“It’s depreciation.”
“You’re a doctor, Mila.”
“I’m in pre-med,” she corrects me.
“Mila. Get real. You’re a doctor. It’s already decided. You know that, right?”
She doesn’t respond to me.
We are in complete silence for a good three or four seconds.
“But I did get this all correct,” I say. “See this? Look at this balance sheet. Wrote most of that out by hand.”
Mila studies the papers, blinking fast.
It’s the first time I realize just how intense her brain must be. How smart she is. The kind of pressure she probably lives with on a daily basis too. I’m sure she puts a ton of that pressure on herself. But still.
“This looks great,” she says. “I guess the tutoring is working.”
“I don’t need tutoring, Mila. Apparently I just need to apply myself more.”
She looks at me. “Well, whatever, just get the work done.”
“You know, Willow and I have a system.”
“A system?”
“Yeah. When I get an answer right, I get something from her. You know what I mean?”
“No. What do you get? A cookie?”
“We start with a kiss and go from there.”
Mila steps back. “What?”
“A kiss. Shows me her boobs. I play with her boobs. I tease her nipples. And then…”
