The Opposite of Hallelujah (23 page)

Reb and I were almost late to French, and I didn’t have time to catch Pawel before class. He was sitting in the back of the class next to Erin; I waved, but only Erin waved back. Reb and I were relegated to being four seats apart in the front. I got called on three times, which was great, because I hadn’t done the reading.
Madame n’était pas contente
.

“Pawel!” I called as soon as the bell rang. Pawel disappeared out the door, and I raced to catch up. “Pawel!” I said again, taking his elbow. He stopped and looked at me blankly. “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

“Oh, no, I guess not,” he said, moving to the side and leaning against the lockers. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” I stared at him in disbelief. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

“What about it?” he asked, his eyes trained on a poster on the opposite wall.

“You’re still mad at me for lying, aren’t you?” I asked, my heart sinking. He wouldn’t even look at me, and it was obvious he wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over.

“No,” he sighed. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know. Look, Caro—”

“You know what?” I said, waving it off. “You’re right. I lied and I was wrong and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Forget I ever existed.” It took all my strength to turn around and walk away from him. I sucked my lip to stop the tears that were welling in my eyes from spilling out all over my cheeks.

“Caro!” Pawel shouted, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t; I would’ve ended up a puddle in the middle of the hallway if I had, no matter how badly I wanted to.

The day passed slowly. I watched the clock with the vigilance of a bird-watcher waiting for a yellow-bellied sapsucker to emerge from behind a canopy of leaves. All I wanted was for school to be over so I could rush home
and bury myself beneath the covers and never emerge. I couldn’t believe that I’d been dumped for the second time in a semester; that had to be some kind of record. I was such a loser. Breaking up with Derek was one thing; after it happened, I realized how little I’d really liked him. But losing Pawel was different.

I
missed
him, already, so much that it hurt. It was amazing the way you could feel the absence of someone you cared about. As we walked to lunch, Reb reminded me that I hadn’t known Pawel for very long, and there was no telling how I would’ve felt about him in a few days, much less months, but I couldn’t be convinced. I liked him—
really
liked him—and I couldn’t bear the idea that he was walking around thinking I was a crazy person.

But that wasn’t the only thing. It was
my
fault, and I hated myself for that. I wanted time travel to be possible, so that I could go back to when I told Pawel that lie about Hannah, and not do it. I couldn’t believe how one small choice could affect something so big, but if there was anything we were learning in physics, it was that the universe was causal. If the flutter of a butterfly’s wings could cause a hurricane halfway around the world, my one stupid lie could take down my fledgling relationship like a sumo wrestler, no questions asked.

When we got to the cafeteria, Reb headed off to the lunch line and I slumped down into a chair next to Erin at our usual table.

“What’s going on?” she asked, popping a baby carrot into her mouth. “You look glum.”

“Glummer than glum,” I muttered, laying my head down on the table.

“Why? Trouble in paradise with Polish Boy?”

“You might say that.” I groaned. “I totally screwed up. He hates me.”

“Caro, what did you do?” Erin asked, gripping my arm and pulling until I looked up. “Did you … 
cheat
?”

“God, no,” I cried. Leave it to Erin to jump to the most dramatic scenario possible.

“Then what?”

“I lied,” I said, biting the inside of my mouth nervously.

“About what?” she asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“My sister.”

“He’s mad at you because of your sister?” She looked disappointed. Nothing juicy about that.

“I think he’s madder about the lie.”

“Well, what did you say? Does it have something to do with the party?” Erin guessed.

“No.”

“Okay, the twenty questions thing is getting old. Spill.”

“I told him that my sister just got back from the Peace Corps,” I said, bracing myself.

“Wait—you told
us
that. At Reb’s.”

“I know,” I said. I was hoping she’d been too drunk to remember, but apparently not.

“You
lied
to me?” I nodded. “What was she really doing before she came home?”

I took a deep breath. “She was a nun.”

“She was a
nun
?” Erin repeated. “Why would you lie about that?”

“I don’t know!” I said. “I just did.”

“But—but I’m your best friend,” Erin said slowly, a look of betrayal falling across her face like a shadow. “Why would you lie to
me
about that? I know you probably better than anybody else. Right?”

“Please don’t be mad,” I begged. “I can’t take it if you hate me over this, too.”

Erin shook her head. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I said.

“Well, to
you
it isn’t. Obviously you have no problem lying to people about stupid shit, so to you of course it wouldn’t be a big deal. Does Reb know?”

I knew this was dangerous ground. I could feel her eyes on me, accusing and hurt, and I did something really, really stupid.

“No,” I lied. “I haven’t told her yet.”

Erin nodded. “You should.”

“I will,” I said.

Erin put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about Pawel. I know how much you like him.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to smile.

“Maybe it’s not the end,” Erin said. “You never know with boys.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You never know.”

Reb came up to us then and put her tray down next to Erin’s. “Hey, mopey,” she said. “What did Pawel say when you talked to him?”

I shook my head at her, but she didn’t catch on.

“Whuh?” she asked, mouth half full of pizza.

“You know about Pawel?” Erin asked sharply.

“Uh, yeah. Was I not supposed to mention it or something?” Reb asked, looking sheepish and confused.

“You’re unbelievable, Caro,” Erin said, throwing the rest of her lunch into her bag and grabbing her books. “No wonder Pawel broke up with you. Nobody likes a liar.” She stormed off without a backward glance while Reb stared after her, completely mute.

“What’s her problem?” Reb asked.

I just sighed and put my head back down on the table.

16

It seemed unfair that I should have to endure yet another class period with Pawel and Erin after alienating them both so thoroughly in less than twenty-four hours, but as my parents are so fond of pointing out, life isn’t fair—and neither is high school. I trudged toward physics with half a mind to bolt, spend the period in the bathroom, and take my punishment for skipping like a woman. But preprogrammed as I am never to ditch class or cheat on tests, I went anyway. The door felt as if it weighed a literal ton.

I was happy to see that Pawel wasn’t in class yet. If I was lucky, maybe he had gotten sick from the tuna fish
casserole at lunch and had to go home. It was awful to be wishing food poisoning on my ex-boyfriend—the “ex” part of that stung more and more by the minute—I knew that, but I couldn’t help it. I simultaneously wanted to see him and couldn’t stand the thought of it. I was all twisted into knots, and my brain was fuzzy and unfocused. My lab table was going to hate me that day, because there was no way I was getting any work done, but they’d have to take a number and get in line.

Erin walked in a few moments before the bell rang and sat down at her table. I tried to catch her eye, but she had her back turned to me. When class started and Mr. Tripp began handing out pieces of paper, I decided it was okay to breathe a sigh of relief: Pawel wasn’t coming.

I looked at the paper.
SCIENCE FAIR
, it said in huge block letters. And it wasn’t an application; it was an assignment.

“The science fair is coming up in three months, people,” Mr. Tripp said, his face as blank as the dry-erase board behind him. I remembered what Pawel had said about him—
That is the most humorless man I have ever met
—and felt a sad twinge. “For the past few years, I assume your teachers have given you the information, which you promptly ignored, and maybe promised a little extra credit if you entered. Unfortunately for you, this is AP physics, and I am not one of
those
teachers. I’m requiring you to enter the science fair, and I’ll be grading
you on your projects. If one of you happens to win the whole thing, maybe I can be convinced to add a point or two to your final grade at the end of the semester.”

Everyone groaned. This hadn’t been part of the deal when we’d signed up to take advanced placement at the end of the previous year.

“I’m going to do you one favor with regards to the science fair, and it’s this—you’ll be working in pairs, and you don’t necessarily have to work with the people in your lab groups. Your partner, your project, your choice. You’ll also have sporadic time to work on your projects in class, in accordance with the schedule on your assignment sheet.” He waved one in the air, as if we didn’t know what assignment sheets he was talking about. “I’ll need your partner’s name by the end of the period, and a proposed project two weeks from today.” He stared at all of us, and we stared back. “Go.”

I glanced around the room. People were already pairing off; it was like a feeding frenzy, because nobody wanted to get stuck with the lazy people who never did any work. I regretted my fight with Erin in the cafeteria even more. She wasn’t going to ask me to be her partner while she was this riled up.

It took me a couple of minutes, but I quickly realized that with Pawel gone the head count was uneven and one person would end up without a partner. And it was starting to look like that person was
me
.

“Christy,” I said, tugging at the sleeve of one of the girls at my lab table. I didn’t know her that well, but she was nice enough and pretty smart. “Do you want to work together?”

“Sorry, Caro,” Christy said, giving me a look of sympathy. “Julia and I are pairing up.” She gestured across the room to where her friend was waving her over.

“Yeah, no problem,” I said. I ran my eyes over the faces in the classroom until I noticed Josh Greenblatt scribbling furiously in his notebook. “Josh!” I called. He looked up. I pointed back and forth between the two of us. He frowned and shook his head, jerking his thumb at David Prince, who was sitting next to him.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

“Is there a problem, Caro?” Mr. Tripp asked. I hadn’t noticed, but he was standing right next to me.

“Actually,” I said, trying not to look like my life was caving in on top of me, “I don’t have a partner.”

“Well I’m sure we can—” he started, but as he was looking down at his clipboard, the classroom door opened and Pawel walked through it. I didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of what I knew was going to happen, or cry at the cruelty of the universe in sending in Pawel to be my science fair partner on the same day he’d broken up with me.

“It looks like you’re saved, Caro,” Mr. Tripp said. “Mr. Sobczak can be your partner.”

Pawel looked up at him, startled. “Partner? For what?”

“The science fair.” Mr. Tripp handed him the assignment. “Caro can fill you in on the details.”

Everyone else had rearranged themselves so that they were sitting with their partners, so there was an extra seat at my table. I pointed to it and Pawel sat down, still looking stunned.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding the paper up and frowning.

“Mr. Tripp is forcing us all to do the science fair in pairs,” I said. “Before you came in, I was the only one without a partner. I thought you were going to be absent.”

“No, just late,” he said quietly. “Are we being graded on this?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He read the assignment to himself. “He’s not making this easy on us, is he?”

“Certainly not,” I grumbled.

“Well, what are you going to do?” He shrugged. “I guess we’re partners.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I insisted.

“I know,” he said, but he wasn’t stoked about us working together, I could tell. We spent the rest of the period in awkward silence, flipping through our textbooks independently to come up with ideas for experiments. When we came across any, we jotted them down in our notebooks, and with five minutes left in the period, we
switched papers. Mr. Tripp came around and glanced at our lists of potential projects.

“Not enough,” he announced. “Think bigger.”

“Bigger?” Pawel muttered. “What does he want us to do, build a particle accelerator?”

“I’ve got an at-home atom-splitting kit we could use,” I said. Pawel smiled but didn’t laugh.

It was going to be a long three months.