This takes me by surprise. Only a certain kind of person immediately associates my name with Ada, Countess of Lovelace, the first computer programmer.

“The inventor of poetical science,” he continues, amused. “My very favorite kind of science.”

“Theoretical physics is my favorite kind of science,” I respond. “Too bad I suck at math.”

“Theoretical physics is definitely in my top three,” he says.

“For the time travel, right?” I ask.

“How did you know?”

I should stop grinning so hard; I don’t want to appear too eager. But he’s grinning too.

“So, you’re a fan of sculpture?” he asks.

“I didn’t know I was until today.” No other sculpture has ever hit like this one.

“Ah, yes, the David can have that effect on people.”

I feel the easy flow of the conversation settling to a natural conclusion, see the polite shift in his manner as he prepares to move on. But I dumped David for this guy, so I can’t let him slip through my fingers just yet. I say, “If you know so much about its creator, what else can you tell me about my new favorite piece of art?”

“Ah, so I’ve been unsuccessful at hiding the fact that I’m an insufferable know-it-all.” Michael runs his hands through his thick brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and his forearm flexes in a way that makes me want to inspect his form as closely as I just did David’s.

“You say know-it-all. I say kind educator of ignorant, helpless tourists.”

“Ah, yes, ignorant and helpless, the exact two adjectives I would use to describe you,” he says with a dimpled grin. “Well, did you know that in order to familiarize himself with human anatomy, Michelangelo dissected cadavers?”

“I did not know that.”

Michael mimics the position of David’s hand with his own. “So much of the realism is because Michelangelo was as knowledgeable about the human body as any physician.”

I add, “And he was also a painter, architect, and engineer. Talk about a know-it-all.” I roll my eyes dramatically.

“You say know-it-all. I say true embodiment of the Renaissance ideal.” He lowers his hand.

“The epitome of a Renaissance man,” I say wistfully and perhaps with an edge of bitterness.

The concept of a Renaissance man—someone who’s an expert in multiple fields—is an ambition I’m all too familiar with. It’s the very ideal that’s been hammered into me by my family ever since my hands were big enough to hold a paintbrush and plink at the keys of a piano. But I couldn’t keep up with those expectations. So while my brilliant best friends, Kor and Izzy, spent years training in all sorts of disciplines, I was left home to merely dabble in various hobbies just long enough to start to get good at them and then get bored and move on to something new.