Page 29 of Starrily

It looked like a conference room, with several empty rows of chairs and a raised stage on the opposite side. Callie’s feet froze to the ground.No no no.

“Go up there and give me your talk.”

“No way.”

“Phoenix.” Simon leaned in an inch. “I saw your picture in the article. If your talk feels anything like that picture does, you’re in trouble.”

“It’s a perfectly fine picture!”

“Yes, but there’s a difference between looking ‘fine’ and looking ‘fun.’”

“It’s not a stand-up comedy routine, it’s a scientific talk.” Wait, did he just call her fine-looking?

“You’re giving it at a university?”

She nodded.

“Graduates?”

“Undergraduates.”

“Those people aren’t scientists yet. Sure, they’re all smart and hard-working, but they’re also twenty-year-olds who like to draw funny body parts on their friends’ faces while they’re passed out on the couch.” He clapped his hands and gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on. Up there you go.”

Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to practice. This room was at least closer to the one she’d be presenting in, and her giving a talk to an actual person beat practicing in front of Theia.

She slowly made her way to the stage and faced the room. It didn’t help that it was empty; as soon as she took it in, a lightheadedness took over, and her pulse accelerated.

Simon leaned on the wall in the back.

She cleared her throat. “Galaxy formation and evolution, and its connection to black holes.”

“Stop.” Simon made a cutting motion with his hand and pushed off the wall. “You’re squeezing your hands into fists.”

She glanced down and relaxed her hands. They were getting sweaty already.

“And that’s not an opener.”

“It’s the title of the research paper I’m presenting.”

“Doesn’t mean you come in and start rattling off what you’d written. How have you done this before?”

“I … I didn’t. It’s the first time I’m presenting after getting my PhD.”

“That explains a lot,” Simon murmured, more to himself than her. “All right. It doesn’t have to be a comedy routine, but you still have to establish a connection with your audience. They’ll like you more and, consequentially, be more interested in what you say if they see you’re just like them. You’re not some haughty genius, out of touch with reality.” He put his foot on the chair and leaned on his knee. “You drink out of mugs with cute pictures of planets, send funny astronomy jokes to your friends, and watch popular sci-fi movies.”

So he didn’t think she was boring and humorless?

“At least, that’s what you have to make them think,” he continued, and the brief spark of elation was gone.

“Okay. Then what do I do?”

Simon walked over and hopped onto the stage. He clapped his hands and turned to the empty room. “All right, folks. We have a whole galaxy of stuff to discuss today, but don’t worry. There’s gonna be only two graphs in this presentation, and one of them is about the likelihood of you listening all the way through.” He glanced at her. “Give them a few seconds to chuckle …”

She could feel her mouth stretching toward a smile, and quickly clenched her teeth. “That’s not very accurate.”

“You do it the accurate way. But bring some of that energy into it. As for your hands …” Suddenly he was behind her, touching her hands, leading them until they were clasped in front, just under her chest. “A neutral position, if you don’t have anything to hold or point at.” His breath tickled her ear, and the sleeve of his shirt brushed against her own.

As if struck by electricity, she jerked away. “Uh, thanks.”