It started out in mathematics, of course. They had been working a problem, and a suggestion made by someone was utterly wrong. Tavi could see what to do, but he was several steps ahead. He had no idea what the actual answer was--but he could see how to find the rest of it at a glance.

Another hand went up, several desks away. A glance took in a boy just about his own size, sort of mousy. He started filling in the details--and when they got to the next step, Tavi supplied the method.

(Next to him, he suspected Max was paying little to no attention--but then, there was a particularly pretty classmate of theirs a few seats away. It hadn't taken more than a couple days to figure that out about the Antillan. It was amusingly exasperating to Max's far more studious roommate.)

The rest of that class was much the same way, really--Tavi seeing the method and generalization of the approach, the other boy (Ehren, he remembered noting) supplying the details and specific answers. It was a natural rhythm, in its way, and between them they didn't miss a beat. Tavi had flashed him a quick smile as the class ended, but both of their small sizes meant he lost track in the crowd leaving.

*

Once outside, Tavi stops and starts scanning the crowd. "Max, wait up a minute. There's someone I want to talk to--maybe he'll want to come to lunch."