I shrugged. “A triangle. What does this have to do with quantum physics and reality?” Part of me wished I’d never asked, seeing as I wasn’t sure I was going to understand her answer.
Ms. Fuentes shut off the projector and set the paper aside. “The point is that if you look at the object one way, it’s a rectangle, another and it’s a hexagon or a triangle. But none of that changes the fact that it’s a prism.” I must’ve looked completely baffled, and I was, because she said, “What we observe as some kind of duality—an atom is either a wave or a particle depending on our observation—may not reveal the entire truth. The atom may be neither of those things. It might exist in a completely different state we’re incapable of seeing or comprehending. Someone who only saw the shadows of our prism might deduce that it had changed shape, while we would know it was a prism all along.”
Her explanation reminded me of the allegory of the cave. “In other words, there might be a truth out there we don’t know yet?”
“That’s an interesting way to put it, but yes.”
“So then how does that relate to reality?”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Fuentes said.
“I guess I’m asking: Do we create reality by interaction and observation, or does it only appear that way because we’re incapable of seeing the whole prism?”
Ms. Fuentes sighed. “You’re moving into philosophy here, Ozzie, and I’m not sure I’m the right person to help you. What I can tell you is that it probably doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter whether we know if an atom is a particle or a wave or something else completely. Not knowing doesn’t change the reality of what an atom is. What matters is that we continue searching for the answers.” She frowned. “Did that help at all?”
“I think so,” I said. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
1,295 MI
LUA ADJUSTED MY BOW TIE for the tenth time in an hour. He stepped back and closed one eye, appraising my appearance. “I guess that’s as good as you’re going to get.”
“Well, no one wears a tux like you, Lu.”
“Tell me more.”
While I’d gone with a classic black-and-white tux, Lua wore baby blue with a sequined bow tie and cummerbund that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but which Lua wore with style. He’d even dyed his hair to match.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“The dance?” I shook my head. “I don’t even know why I’m going.”
“Because it’s a rite of passage. It’s going to be lame, right? But if you stay home and mope, you’ll regret it. Or you won’t. It’s only prom.” Then he shrugged. “Actually, though, I was talking about photos with Dinah.”
“Oh. I’m definitely not ready for that.”
“Tough.” Lua grabbed my hand and led me out of my room.
Before the universe had stolen Renny and my parents, Lua’s house had only consisted of two bedrooms, but in addition to rewriting history, the universe was also adept at home remodeling and had converted the garage into a bedroom for me. Even as it stole parts of my life, the universe gave me other things in return. It had disappeared my family and replaced it with a new one; it had devoured the stars but given me the opportunity to recreate them for someone who’d never seen them; it had robbed me of Tommy but gifted me Calvin.
I’d managed to lose Calvin all on my own.
I couldn’t figure out why the universe bothered. Why replace what it had stolen? Why not just take me too and end the whole thing? From the day I narrowly avoided dying on Flight 1184, it’d seemed as if the universe was trying to tell me something, but I hadn’t been able to decipher what. Sometimes I thought it was trying to tell me to get as far from Cloud Lake as possible, other times to never leave. If it were attempting to send me a message, I wished it would be a little less ambiguous. A bright neon sign in the sky would have been far more helpful.
Lua and I endured about an hour of Ms. Novak taking pictures and forcing us to pose in front of different parts of the house. I played along because, in a way, it was her special night too. In this new history, she’d watched us fumble through the world as toddlers, seen us struggle to escape our awkward phases, and now we were getting ready to move to the next stages of our lives. To journey out into the real world—though there wasn’t much world left—and become adults, whatever that actually meant. As angry as I’d been at my parents over the last few months for acting like idiot children over their divorce, I hated that they’d been cheated out of these moments.
“You both look so handsome!”
“Come on, Dinah,” Lua said. “The limo’s going to be here soon.”
Ms. Novak lowered the camera. “But it’s not here yet, and you’re mine to do with as I please until it arrives.” She peered through the viewfinder again. “Now, give me old Hollywood glamour.”
We posed with silly faces; as spies; I held Lua across my arms; he tried to lift me in his; and we even managed to get serious long enough to give Ms. Novak a photo she could print, frame, and hang on the wall.
Finally—finally!—our limo arrived, but the moment Dustin climbed out in a hideous plaid tux with matching Chucks, Ms. Novak bullied him into pictures with me and Lua, and it took us another half hour to extricate ourselves from photography hell and crowd into the limo.
Dustin passed around flutes of sparkling apple juice—in addition to the scrutiny of metal detectors at the dance, we could be subjected to breathalyzer tests if any of the teachers suspected we’d been drinking—and held them aloft to toast.
“To the last best night of our lives,” Dustin said.
Lua shook his head. “I’m not drinking to that. If this is going to be the best night of our lives, we’re in serious fucking trouble.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Shut up and toast!”
So we did.
I hadn’t heard from Calvin, so Lua, Dustin, and I had pooled our resources to go as a group. Maybe that was how it was always meant to be. They were my people, after all.