After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
Quantum mechanics is the branch of physics relating to the very small.
I bite my lip and think about it. Okay. Quantum mechanics. Physics. Very small.
Got it.
In quantum mechanics, objects instead exist in a haze of probability; they have a certain chance of being at point A, another chance of being at point B and so on.
"The haze of probability," I mutter, thoroughly confused, but I continue on anyway. Maybe it'll make more sense as I read. "The haze of probability. The haze of probability. The haze... of probability."
Apparently, repetition is not always key.
Quantum mechanics developed over many decades, beginning as a set of controversial mathematical explanations of experiments that the math of classical mechanics could not explain. It began at the turn of the 20th century, around the same time that Albert Einstein published his theory of relativity, a separate mathematical revolution in physics that describes the motion of things at high speeds.
"Back in school, are we?" My head whips up from the book to see Tony in gray sunglasses and a black suit. He drops a bag on the counter and rummages through the fridge. He emerges with a soda and bows dramatically. "Miss me?"
"Not particularly." I grin and offer a hand, which he shakes. "But you saved me from some very boring reading, so I'll allow it."
"What are you reading? A textbook?"
"Yeah. Quantum mechanics. I borrowed it from your personal library. It's awful, but I'm learning a lot."
He shrugs. "Personally, I find it interesting, but to each his own. By the way, based on that informational survey you all took a while back, you have the fourth-highest IQ in the Avengers. Not bad, kid." He claps me on the shoulder and takes a swig of his drink.
"Fourth? Who's above me?" I'm surprised I even ranked. I never graduated high school.
"Me, Banner, Cap, then you. But according to trends and how much you've been reading, you're gonna pass him in less than a year, so here's to hoping." He crosses his fingers.
"Here's to hoping." We clink glasses. "What are you doing here? It's great to see you. I thought you were supposed to be in LA until the wedding."
"Well, that was the plan. It changed. How is Mr. Stars and Stripes? When is the crew due back?"
"Next week," I answer, my spirits lifting significantly at the thought. "And he's fine. They all are."
"But you're not. Right?" He raises his eyebrows at my frown. "Wilson said you've been moping around the compound."
