Parallel

what’d you say that you now wish you hadn’t?”
    “Am I that predictable?”
    “Predictable? Not in the least. Prone to impulsive emotional outbursts?” He smiles. “On occasion.”
    I look down at my striped comforter. There’s a black pen stain next to my big toe. “I was so mean,” I whisper. “She’ll never forgive me.” A tear begins its descent down my cheek.
    “You won’t know that until you apologize,” he says.
    I want to tell him he doesn’t know Caitlin as well as I do, but instead I just nod. The tear drips from my chin to the comforter, forming a perfect wet circle.
    “Well, I better go check on your mother,” Dad says then, standing up. “Make sure she hasn’t ruined any more appliances.” I giggle through my tears. Two weeks ago she killed our blender trying to puree a duck.
    “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I say. He nods, then bends to kiss my forehead.
    “You two will work this out,” he whispers. “It might take some time, but you will.” I nod, blinking back the tears hovering on the edge of my eyelids. Dad straightens back up and heads for the door.
    My cell phone is lying next to me on the bed. I don’t really expect her to answer, but I dial Caitlin’s number anyway. It goes straight to voicemail. I try Tyler next. To my surprise, he picks up on the second ring.
    “I get it,” he says after my profuse apology. “You’re you.”
    “What does that mean?” I prepare to be offended.
    “You thought you could micromanage this the way you try to micromanage everything else,” he replies. “You thought we’d make a good couple, and you figured you could make it happen. But you can’t plan a relationship like you’ve planned your career path, Barnes. Doesn’t work that way.” I hear him smile. “But good try.”
    “I shouldn’t have lied,” I say. “If I’d just kept my mouth shut, you wouldn’t have broken up with Ilana, and—”
    “Hold up there, chief. I’d been planning to end things with Ilana all week. Why do you think I got so blitzed at the gala?”
    A thin layer of guilt melts away.
    “So you don’t hate me?”
    “I don’t hate you. I might be planning a very public humiliation as payback, but I don’t hate you.”
    I smile too now, relieved that I haven’t lost both of them. “Have you talked to Caitlin?” I ask then.
    “Only for a minute,” he says. “She had a meeting with DeWitt right after lunch.”
    “What for?”
    “Dunno,” he says. “She wasn’t exactly chatty.” His attempt to sound casual about it makes it worse. Behind the words, his voice is heavy with disappointment.
    “I really am sorry I messed things up for you guys,” I say for the fifth time. Downstairs, our home phone line rings.
    “Not all’s lost,” Tyler says. “Elmo told me afterward that if Caitlin didn’t want me, she’d take me.” “Elmo” is Eleanor Morgan, Andy Morgan’s little sister, a perma-bubbly redhead who I suspect might sleep in her cheerleading uniform.
    Before I can remind him that Andy would kick his ass if he ever even attempted to hook up with Eleanor, there’s a knock on my bedroom door. My dad is back.
    “Phone’s for you,” he tells me. “It’s your astronomy teacher.”
    “Really?” Dad nods. He sets the cordless phone on my dresser and disappears again. “Call you later,” I tell Tyler.
    “Tell Dr Pepper I said hello.”
    We hang up, and I reach for the cordless. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Dr. Mann when he asks why my test was blank. The truth, I guess.
    “Hello?”
    “Ms. Barnes! Gustav Mann here.” I smile. As if, with that accent, it could be anyone else.
    “Hi, Dr. Mann. How are you?”
    “A little concerned, my dear. What happened this afternoon?”
    “I got in a fight with my best friend right before the test,” I say, aware of how juvenile it sounds. But if Dr. Mann thinks it’s childish, he doesn’t let on. “I was prepared for our exam, but I just couldn’t . . .” My voice wobbles.
    “Ah. I thought it might be something like that. I’m very sorry to hear it.”
    “I’m willing to do extra credit,” I tell him. “As much as I can. I know it probably won’t be enough to make up for the zero, but I’d like to do it, anyway.”
    “Let’s see how well you do on the midterm first,” he replies.
    “You’re letting me retake it?”
    “Of course. Tomorrow morning, if you’re up for it. Now, there will be a penalty, I’m afraid. School policy is explicit about