Lissa dropped her voice, though no one could hear us through these hundred-year-old walls. “I think she and Shani are both struggling with God. It’s just harder to tell with Carly.”
My jaw dropped and I clutched the soundbox of the harp. “What? You mean Carly’s not a Christian? I thought she was. She comes to prayer circle.”
“Maybe that’s why. I thought she was, too, but Shani says she’s not. She’s all mixed up. Shani wants to talk to her about it, but Carly just shuts her out. And as for Shani, she feels sure God wants her, but she doesn’t think she can be a Christian.” Lissa took a deep breath while I tried to sort all this out. “I’ve been talking with her, but one person’s opinion isn’t going to change her mind.” She glanced at me. “This is more your thing.”
“My thing?”
She nodded. “You’re so open about your faith. You know how hard it is for me to talk about stuff like that, and if Carly won’t even talk to Shani, she sure won’t talk to me. But Shani . . .” She searched for the right words. “It’s like she’s hungry to hear about it, but it makes her mad at the same time.”
“Talking with me wouldn’t help, then,” I said bitterly as I got up to sit on the bed, the better to deal with this. “Everything I say seems to make her mad.”
Shani, struggling with becoming a believer. Wow. And how could Carly be the mastermind behind the exam fraud if God was trying to set her straight with Him? The two were mutually incompatible.
Why hadn’t I noticed what was going on? I mean, granted, Carly hardly ever talked about herself, but you’d think I’d have noticed
something
in prayer circle. But Carly wasn’t like me, putting everything out there for people to see. On the other hand, if she was struggling against surrender, maybe she’d act out in a big way. Do something really spectacular and say, “Here—do You want me now?” Still waters run deep. Maybe she held things in until that kind of a grand gesture was all she had left. Self-destructive and crazy, maybe, but if she thought it would make God love her less, and leave her alone to do her own thing, she might go for it.
But even if that were true, I was still having a hard time getting my mind around it. We were like the Three Musketeers. Friends. Lissa would hardly have made it through last term if it weren’t for us—and Carly had been just as loyal in her quiet, loving way as I was when I got into people’s faces.
How could she do this? Was it the money? A thousand bucks a paper would mount up pretty fast. Or was there some daredevil aspect hidden in her character that would make her break all the rules and put everyone at risk?
The next question was, how could I bring this up to Lissa without making her mad at me all over again? Because if Lucas was right, I couldn’t approach Carly by myself. I’d need backup, not to mention evidence. We’d have to tell one of the instructors, and to do that I’d need proof. For instance: Who had told Lucas? And how had they found out?
Yikes. This could be a major deal, and we only had, like, thirteen days to wrap it up before exams started.
Lissa opened her mouth to say something when someone knocked on the door. “Hello?” a muffled voice said.
“It’s open,” she called.
Shani stepped in and shut the door behind her, and I sucked in a breath, as if she might catch me thinking bad things about Carly. “Did you hear?” she said. “I was walking behind Dani La-vigne and I heard her on the phone. Wow. This is amazing.”
Oh, my. If everyone was talking about it, maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything to Lissa at all. The jungle telegraph would take care of everything—including the evidence and the confession. “Lucas told me this morning after church,” I said. “Does everybody know?”
“If they don’t now, they will by tomorrow. Isn’t it great?”
“Great for us. Not so great for her.”
Shani looked at me, puzzled. “Us?”
“Well, sure. The whole junior class.”
Her face hardened in a look that was getting all too familiar to me. “You know, I’d think you’d be a little happier for your friend. It’s not like she doesn’t know about the competition.”
“What on earth are you guys talking about?” Lissa sounded exasperated. “I lost you at ‘hello.’”
“I have no idea what she means about competition,” I said, “But by tomorrow everyone will know Carly’s the one who’s been selling the exam answers.”
“What?” Lissa’s eyes bugged out.
“Are you insane?” Shani hissed, both hands on her hips.
I stared at them both. “You just said it was great that they found out it was her. And I agreed with you. What are you looking like that for?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Shani tried to get her breath back. “I was talking about Brett and Vanessa breaking up. This will totally make Carly’s week—until she finds out what you just said.”
“What
did
you just say?” Lissa asked, suspicion fighting with confusion in her gaze.
“It’s not just me who’s saying it. Lucas told me this morning that he heard she was the one selling the answer sheets. Someone with a name like Argon, he said.”
“Impossible,” Shani said flatly. “He’s nuts for passing that on, and you’re nuts for believing it.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re even, then.”
I let it pass. This was too important. “The point is, we have to ask her if it’s true.”
“I’m not asking her.” Lissa folded her arms and settled her back against the wall next to her bed. “It’s not true and I’m not going to dignify it by bringing it up.”
“Lissa, someone has to. Do you want to fail your whole term?”
“I’d rather fail than think my friend—
our
friend—could be capable of doing something like that.”
“I wish I was as noble as you, then. Because I can’t afford those Fs on my transcript.”
“Gillian, how can you think about your grades at a time like this?” Shani wanted to know. “I thought Carly was your friend. And Lucas didn’t say it was her, did he? He said it was someone with a name like Argon. How vague is that?”
“I already thought of that.” I ran them through the possibilities. “She’s the only one with a name that close who actually has the brains to pull it off.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Lissa said stubbornly. “God’s calling her.”
“You said yourself she won’t talk about it. We didn’t even know she wasn’t a Christian. What if He isn’t calling her? Or if He is, what if she’s doing this to make Him go away? To make it impossible to give in?”
“That’s pretty extreme,” Shani put in. “She could just say no. She doesn’t have to get the whole junior class involved.”
“We don’t know what goes on inside people,” I informed her loftily. “Why say no when you could make this grand gesture instead?”
“Uh, because you’re normal?” Lissa suggested. “If you’re going to think badly of her, go right ahead. But I swear, Gillian, if you rat on her and it turns out that you’re wrong, you’re going to have to look for a new roomie next term.”
I stared at her. That wasn’t all.
If Lucas and I were wrong, I was going to be looking for a whole new school.
To: All Students
From: TArnzen©spenceracad.edu
Date: March 12, 2009
Re: Physics Olympiad semifinalist
I’m delighted to announce that a Spencer Academy student will be one of two hundred semifinalists from across the nation competing for the top five spots on the U.S. Physics Olympiad team this spring.
My congratulations and that of the entire administration go to Lucas Hayes, whose outstanding score on the exam placed him among the brightest young stars in the field of science today.
Please take time to congratulate Lucas and to wish him well as he prepares for the last set of exams taking place early next term.
Terence Arnzen, Ph.D.
Dean of Sciences, Spencer Academy
I
COULDN’T JUST GO
to an instructor like Milsom or Tobin on the basis of a rumor. I had to have evidence. The problem was, when was I going to get it and still find time to prep for finals in Math, Chemistry, and Mandarin, write the term papers for English and History, finish up my Composition project, and, last but not least, survive the ongoing agony dished out to me courtesy of my personal trainer?
Gaaaahhh
. Why did all this stuff have to happen at once?
But if I didn’t do something, none of this would matter. We’d all get Fs and there’d be nothing left to do but cry . . . and resign ourselves to repeating the pain next term.
Talking with Shani and Lissa was pointless. Talking with Carly, impossible.
I needed to talk to Lucas.
The physics lab was empty, the computers at the back deserted. I found the instructor in the supply closet, humming something that sounded like fifties do-wop.
“Dr. Arnzen? Have you seen Lucas Hayes?”
He straightened and gave me a huge grin. “I imagine he’s off somewhere, celebrating.”
I sucked in a breath. “You mean—”
“Didn’t you see my memo? We got the call this morning. He made the semifinals—as if we had any doubt.”
“This morning?” And he hadn’t shared this tremendous news with me?
“Yes, about an hour ago.” He smiled. “He said something about starting in on some extra reading right away. You might find him in the library.”
“Thanks.”
Beneath my excitement for Lucas at this tremendous news was a little undercurrent of disappointment. So, okay, we’d both been in classes all morning, and now it was lunchtime, but still. He could have sent me a text message when he got out of class, couldn’t he? Or was he so new at this business of being a boyfriend that he hadn’t even thought of it?
Sure enough, I found him in the library, surrounded by a celebrating crowd of science geeks. They didn’t exactly hoist him onto their shoulders and parade him through the stacks, but it was close. With all the congratulations and back-slapping and that man-hug thing that guys do, the poor librarian was freaking about all the noise.
“But, Mrs. Lynn,” I said, taking her aside, “how many times has Spencer produced an Olympian before?”
“Several times, if you must know. Just not with such a high score. But—”
“Uh-huh. Let them have their moment, okay?”
“That’s all very well for you, Miss Chang. But there are students here trying to study for their finals.”
Dani Lavigne and DeLayne Geary lounged at a table near the back, and I’d bet my next allowance deposit they weren’t coaching each other on photosynthesis.
“Gentlemen!” Mrs. Lynn called. “You must either respect the rules of this department or take your celebrations elsewhere.”
“Hey, Gillian.” Lucas had finally seen me. He tossed his books into his backpack and waded through the noisy knot of people so that they turned and began to follow him.
“Congratulations, Lucas!”
Before I could take a breath to say another word, he’d grabbed me around the waist with one arm and laid a big kiss on me, right there in the library in front of God and Mrs. Lynn and the Science Club.
“Mister Hayes. Miss Chang!” the librarian said in such scandalized tones you’d think she was a theater major playing a Victorian matron. “This is unacceptable. Detention, both of you! My office, four o’clock today.”
“But, Mrs. Lynn—” I began.
Lucas laughed and pulled me away. “Come on, Gillian. Don’t let her spoil this. Common room, everybody—sodas are on me.”
His arm around me, Lucas and I led the way down the corridor to the common room. So I had detention for, like, the first time in my life. On the bright side, we’d be serving it together. I could think of worse punishments.
Sodas dropped out of the machine one after the other as Lucas went through a week’s worth of snack money in five minutes. We only had half an hour before class, so we made the most of it.
And you know what? Somewhere between me arriving in the library and us walking into the common room, something changed. Of course I knew what it was—that kiss. Yes, it got me a detention. But it got me something else: The science guys were looking at me differently.
Not at Gillian Chang, the brain.
Or Gillian Chang, the music prodigy.
But Gillian Chang, the girl. The kissable girl.
Not that I wanted to kiss anybody except Lucas, but you know what I mean. It was like Jeremy and Travis and Michael and the rest were looking at me with new eyes. It made me a little uncomfortable. But part of me liked it.
Was this how Vanessa Talbot and her crowd felt all the time? Like they secretly knew the guys wanted to get together with them? Did this change how they acted toward people? How they dressed? How they thought about themselves?
Whoa. I had enough to think about, just getting through finals. This was too much for me.
But just having a reason to think about it—tasting it—was kind of satisfying. And it was all because Lucas Hayes kissed me in public. Who knew?
Eventually people began to filter out, and with a glance at the clock, I got up as well.
“I need to talk to you,” I said to Lucas. “After detention, okay? I doubt she’ll let us talk during.”
He’d already forgotten about detention. I guess little things like that wouldn’t register on such a happy day. “Four o’clock, right?” He pulled out his BlackBerry and made a note. “What do you want to talk about?”
I glanced around, but everyone had moved out of hearing range. “About that thing you said. Argon, the noble gas.”
His eyebrows went up. “Yeah? Did they find the person?”
“Later,” I said. I had three minutes to climb a couple of sets of stairs and race down a corridor to U.S. History. “After detention.”
How weird is it that the whole afternoon dragged while I waited for four o’clock? I’d never have thought I’d be so anxious to get to detention. But finally, my Mandarin teacher tossed her chalk down on the ledge and dismissed us. All those circuits of the track must have been doing me some good, because even after I ran all the way back down to the library, my backpack thumping against my spine, I wasn’t even breathing hard.
Mrs. Lynn assigned us to reshelving books until dinnertime—big surprise—but she didn’t seem to care if we did it together, as long as we were quiet.