"My machine runs on determination and corn products." She opens her notes, already color-coded, already organized in a way that makes Alex want to hide his own chaotic documents. "Now. Who's going to explain to me why entropy always increases, because I read the chapter three times and I still don't get it."
Jian leans forward, eager now, the green tea forgotten. "It is not about the system," he says. "It is about the universe. The entropy of the universe always increases. The system can decrease, but only if the surroundings increase more."
"See, that's the kind of thing they should put in big letters at the top of the chapter," Maddy says, scribbling in her notebook. "Not bury it under twelve pages of partial derivatives."
"Everything is buried under partial derivatives," Alex says. "That's the whole point of this department. Bury the truth under math until you forget why you cared."
"But you do care," Maddy says, looking up at him. Not accusatory, just stating a fact. "That's why you're here. That's why we're all here. Because we care enough to be miserable together."
Alex doesn't have an answer for that. He pulls up the problem set and starts reading, and for the first time since the Henley email, since the crosswalk, since Satomi, he feels like maybe he can do this. Maybe they can all do this.