“Which brings us to the last question before the bell,” he said, with a dramatic flourish at the equations he’d spent most of the period diagramming on the whiteboard. “And your homework assignment for tonight. Despite being the weakest of the four fundamental fields, gravity is also the most important. Tell me why. At least five hundred words.”
A groan rippled through the class, and Josie was surprised. Really? That was hard? She couldn’t help herself; she laughed out loud.
“Miss Byrne,” Mr. Baines said, his voice full of concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, sorry,” she said, composing herself.
Mr. Baines’s glance shifted to Penelope, then back to Josie. “Is everything okay with tonight’s assignment?”
Really? The teacher was asking her if the assignment was okay? Josie looked nervously around the classroom. “No, it’s fine. It’s just kind of easy.”
She had no idea why she said it. Perhaps her combative nature with her own version of Mr. Baines was bubbling to the surface. But as soon as the words flew out of her mouth, she regretted them. The color drained from Mr. Baines’s face, and a chorus of whispers raced through the room. What had she said? What mistake had she made now?
“I just meant,” she said nervously, trying to make it better, “the idea that gravity is the only field that works on all particles regardless of mass is pretty basic, right? And the only field that can unite quantum mechanics and general relativity in one . . .”
Josie’s voice trailed off. Every single person in the room was staring at her, eyes wide, in several cases mouths agape. No one said a word; no one moved. They just stared at her like she was sitting there in class completely naked.
She turned to Penelope, who stared at her too, but with something more than the shock reflected in every other face. Penelope’s narrow eyes were closed to thin slits, wary and alert, and her brows were scrunched low.
Josie swallowed hard. Did Penelope suspect that Josie was an impostor?
The bell rang, saving Josie from any further muck-ups. Mr. Baines repeated the assignment and scurried from the room without even a look in Josie’s direction, and the rest of the students followed suit. It was as if the room were on fire, people were so anxious to get out of there.
Josie packed up her things slowly. Holy crap, she’d better keep her mouth closed for the rest of the day before she ruined the whole masquerade. She stood up and saw Penelope standing silently by the door of the empty classroom.
Her chin was jutted out and her arms folded across her chest. “What was all that about?”
Damn. Josie must have made quite a faux pas. “Sorry,” Josie said. “I didn’t realize I was being rude.”
“Rude?” Penelope laughed drily. “You’re Jo Byrne. You own this school. Hell, you have your own parking spot reserved every day. No one would ever think you were rude.”
“Oh.” Josie was confused. “I just thought . . . I mean, everyone got quiet.”
Penelope tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing Josie. “You know why.”
Josie’s mind raced. “Um . . .”
“You’ve never answered a question in class.”
So science wasn’t Jo’s strong suit. Of all the things they had in common, Josie found it ironic that an aptitude for science wasn’t one of them. “Oh, well, you know I’m not good at science.”
Penelope pulled her chin back. “You’ve never answered a question in any class. Ever.” Then she caught her breath. A look of fear washed over her face and before Josie could say anything else, Penelope spun around and dashed out the door.
TWENTY-THREE
6:15 P.M.
JOSIE SAT IN THE BLEACHERS, WATCHING NICK at track practice. She’d been there for almost three and a half hours, waiting.
He’d avoided her at lunch; that was clear. Josie knew from Jo’s cheat sheet that they had third lunch together, but Nick had never appeared in the cafeteria. It had been the weirdest lunch period of her life. Just like in the hallways between classes, people were constantly stopping by her table to say hi and ask if she needed anything, but no one sat down near her. In fact, no one sat down at the table. She had the whole, long cafeteria table to herself.
If this was popularity, Jo could keep it.
By the beginning of fourth period, she would have talked to the school janitor, given the opportunity. She was desperate for conversation.
She and Nick were supposed to have fourth-period European History together. Finally, she figured he’d be forced to at least sit in the same room with her. Apparently, not so much. Same as lunch, Nick never showed.
But if this Nick was anything like her Nick, track practice was the one place he would absolutely, positively be. Josie was right. Twenty minutes after the final bell, Josie saw him trot out onto the all-weather track in his usual red-and-white track shorts. He’d glanced in her direction and paused. Josie had waved at him, but instead of waving back, he’d turned and sprinted to the far side of the field for his stretches.
Ugh. It was like she was reliving her own crappy life. What was going on?