He is just like his father, the way he sits, the way his hair falls over his face. His face is serious when he thinks. He's focused, calculating and pondering hard about his next number. He loves math because his father was a mathematics professor. In his hand is his father's old calculator he inherited as a kid. He never leaves home without it.

Now, 20 something years old, he still goes everywhere with his calculator. Always thinking, calculating, trying to come up with he answer to his old man's theory, the one that was never proved, on the pattern in the number Pi. He became obsessed with Pi when his dad taught him how to calculate a surface area of a circle when he was 7.
Who knows what is in that calculator of his, or what is in his head. He doesn't' talk much. Only answers with a yes, no, or maybe.

He sits like his father, slump onto the floor, legs crossed Indian style, the right hand holds his calculator, the right elbow rests on his thigh, his back bends forward to a comfortable angle, his neck is relaxed. He writes with his left hand — the only trait he got from his mother.

 
[ann]