Catholic, Reluctantly (The John Paul 2 High Series)

by Christian M. Frank

  “Don’t worry about it,” Flynt said. “It was just a stupid fluke. It won’t happen again.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler muttered. “Yeah.”

  This is getting pathetic, Allie thought. “Be right back,” she said, pushing aside the curtain of black and orange beads that covered the doorway.

  “Hey, babe!” Tyler yelled after her. “Get me a beer!”

  Allie stood in the dining room, staring into the mirror over the bar. She had taken off the angel wings, her mascara was starting to run, and her hair was getting frizzy. I look terrible.

  You’re beautiful, the Truth Guy said softly.

  Whatever. She rubbed her eyes. What am I doing here?

  I gave away a tract,” J.P. said.

  “Yeah, to a cute girl you were hitting on!” George said.

  “That’s better than nothing,” Mr. Costain said as they pulled out of the Sparrow Hills parking lot. “Evangelizing is really hard work, you know. But you never know what kind of seeds you’ll sow.”

  Thoughtful silence greeted his words. George sighed and cooled his forehead against the window. I wonder if I sowed any seeds tonight. Probably not. But I guess it’s possible.

  “Has James come in yet?” George sat next to Celia in homeroom. It was the Monday after Halloween. Everyone was a little bleary.

  “No,” Celia said, stifling a yawn. “I hope that nothing happened to him Friday night.”

  “Nothing happened,” said Liz. “He set us up, Celia! Don’t you get it?”

  “Think of how bad you’ll feel if something bad really did happen,” Celia pointed out.

  “That’s right,” Brian said. “You never know…”

  “You people are all mental!” Liz said. “I hope that something bad happened to him! He tricked us into evangelizing at the public school!”

  “Yes indeed. And how did it go?” James was standing in the doorway with a darker version of his usual grim smile. “I couldn’t help noticing you talking about me. That seems to happen a lot, doesn’t it?”

  “What does that mean?” George said brusquely.

  James only kept smiling, I-see-a-hypocrite style. “Nothing.” With that, he walked over to his usual place in the back of the room, ignoring the glares in his direction.

  “How’s everyone this morning?” Mr. Costain said, entering the classroom. “None the worse for wear, I hope?”

  There were only mumbles in reply, but Mr. Costain didn’t seem to notice. “We’ll start the rosary now. Let’s pray that the school passes inspection tomorrow so that we can put this permit business behind us. George, why don’t you lead us?”

  Why should today be any different? And today, George wasn’t feeling the least bit prayerful—just really, really ticked off with James.

  During prayers, he planned his confrontation with James. He was itching to demand an explanation and barely noticed what he was saying.

  “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…” he said for the hundredth time. An uncomfortable thought struck him. You’re not really full of grace yourself, right now. James might be right. Maybe you are a hypocrite.

  The sting of the realization kept him quiet until lunchtime, when Allie pulled him aside. “Are you going to talk to James, or what?”

  “I sure am,” George said, rousing himself. “Right now.”

  “Good,” Allie said. “I was beginning to think that no one would. Hey,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Good job Friday night.”

  “Thanks,” George said, hoping his features didn’t betray the pleasure he was feeling. “How’s Tyler?”

  “Fine,” Allie said. “A little mad, but he’ll get over it.”

  They were the last people to come to the cafeteria. Everyone was sitting together at one table, except James. He was sitting at another table by himself, as usual.

  Suddenly feeling up to the task, George tossed his lunch bag on a table and walked right towards him. The others saw what was happening and scrambled out their chairs for a closer look.

  George stopped right in front of James, crossed his arms, and glared at him.

  “Do you want something?” James said.

  “Yeah,” George said. “I want to know what you did Friday night.”

  “I read a chapter of Aquinas and went to bed,” James said, smirking. “Why?”

  “Did you tell Mr. Costain that we wanted to evangelize at Sparrow Hills?”

  “Yes,” James said. His smile vanished, and he fixed George with an icy stare. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I was thinking about it,” James said. “And I decided that you people probably didn’t want to do something that was my idea.” He stressed the last two words viciously. “And I didn’t want to show up, since hanging out with me was such a waste of time. Isn’t that right?”

  George felt the words ring uncomfortably in his head. “So, what? You conned us into going out evangelizing. But why?”

  James leaned forward. “To make a point. Do you get it, now, Peterson? Or are you still a little slow, even for a dumb jock?”

  “Yeah, maybe I am,” George said coldly. “I don’t get why you would do something so mean.”

  “Oh, you don’t? Was it any meaner than pretending you liked somebody’s idea when you really thought it was a waste of time? That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

  Celia gasped. She suddenly looked horrified. “Oh, James! You…you heard us talking, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I overheard your patronizing conversation,” James snarled. “Listen carefully: I don’t want to be part of your little society. I don’t want to be your buddy. I don’t want your condescension. And I don’t want to be patronized.” He glowered at them all. “I just want to be left…alone.”

  There was silence. George could tell that Celia was about to cry, but all she did was say softly, “If that’s what you want, James, we’ll do that.”

  But Allie wasn’t so easily put down. “Hey, jerk!” she said, elbowing past the others. “It’s not our fault that you’re such a loser! Now you’re blaming Celia for just being nice to you? What, are you an idiot or something?”

  “Fancy a dumb blonde like you calling me an idiot,” James sneered.

  “Oooh, good comeback!” Allie snapped, tossing her hair. “Just because you’re smart, you think you’re better than us? You know what you are? You’re a Pharisee, that’s what you are! You say you’re a Catholic, but you’re just a hypocrite!”

  James turned pale, and for a moment George thought he was going to strike her. But he sat back instead, the smug smile back on his face.

  “So Miss Lapsed Catholic is lecturing me on Christianity,” James said. “Well, well, well. You think I’m a hypocrite? What about you? Playing at being a Catholic when you’re with the Catholics. This is all a game to you, Miss Weaver, isn’t it? The only reason you’re acting like a Catholic now is because it’s— he spat out the word, “—convenient. But what are you really risking?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Nothing.”

  Allie opened her mouth, closed it again, then turned on her heel and ran out of the cafeteria.

  James laughed and laughed, but no one else joined in. Then he seemed to realize the rest of them were staring at him.

  “Go away,” he said evenly. “I don’t want to talk to you any more.”

  Having silenced everyone in the school, he grabbed his tattered brown lunch bag and stomped off in the other direction.

  “Wow,” said Liz after a moment. “This place is turning into a soap opera.”

  Celia walked numbly back to her seat. George wanted to go after Allie, but decided he’d better take care of Celia first.

  “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

  Tears were trickling down Celia’s face. “I’m so ashamed,” she whispered. “I really wanted to help him. I thought I was helping him. I didn’t mean to be condescending …”

  “You weren’t, Seal!” George argued, squatting next to her. “He’s just being a
jerk.”

  Celia shook her head. “I shouldn’t have been saying things behind his back,” she said. “It was just wrong. I—”

  “Oh, shut up,” said Liz, butting in. “You can’t fix the whole world, Celia.”

  “Yes,” said Brian. “Stop trying to save the human race—it’s already been done.”

  Celia had to laugh. She wiped her eyes. “Let me see if I can go find Allie and talk to her.”

  “And I’ll go find James, and throw rocks at him,” Liz said. “KIDDING, Celia!”

  No one had much of an appetite after the scene with James. Celia went looking for Allie. Liz and J.P. drifted off, talking. Only Brian was able to finish his lunch. George watched him eat it.

  “Why isn’t Mrs. Flynn ringing the bell for next period?” George glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter after.”

  “She’s not here,” Brian said. “J.P. said she was giving a talk at some women’s retreat.”

  George sighed and got up. “We’d better go to class,” he said, wishing that the school could carry its own weight without his help. He crumpled his lunch bag into a ball and aimed it at the trash can.

  CRASH!!!

  One of the windows had shattered. A shower of glass fell to the floor and a small, dark object skidded to a halt at their feet.

  It was a brick.

  George and Brian looked at each other—and then, both getting the same idea, sprinted for the entrance. But there was no sign of the culprit outside. The only things moving were the mostly bare branches of trees waving in the wind. The evergreen bushes around the school looked undisturbed.

  By the time they got back inside, Mrs. Simonelli, J.P., Mr. Costain, Celia, and Liz had gathered in the gym and were surveying the damage.

  “Did you see who did it?” Liz asked. “We heard the crash—”

  George shook his head.

  “Not again!” Mrs. Simonelli was pale, and her voice shook with rage. “Who keeps doing this?”

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Costain said evenly, but George could see he was unusually upset. “They seem determined to put us out of business.”

  The students all gaped at him. He sighed and said, “You might as well all know that when we signed this lease, we became responsible for the maintenance of the building. If we can’t keep it in repair, we could lose the lease.” He took off his glasses and looked around at the students. “I know that you’ve been having some fun with your pranks, and I haven’t said anything until now, but you should all know that any damage that’s done to the school as a result of a prank…endangers the existence of this school.” He looked from one student’s face to another’s. “So if any of you know who’s responsible for this …”

  “Pranks!” Mrs. Simonelli said bitterly. “Crickets, cows, and now bricks! These students are running wild! Dan, I’ve tried not to say anything about the way you’ve been running things around here, but you are entirely too lenient with these students, letting them leave the building, go down to the store, do who-knows-what between classes—”

  “Tammy,” Mr. Costain said quietly.

  Mrs. Simonelli cut him off. “I don’t think you students realize how much work and sweat and labor goes into running a school! I don’t think you’re really grateful for all the hard work your parents have put into this! Do you know how many hours I’ve put into preparing lessons and teaching—as a volunteer? I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a student breaking these windows—a student who doesn’t want to be here, and who wants to see our school closed.” She glowered around the group. But she seemed oblivious to the fact that her own daughter had gone white.

  “Excuse me,” Brian said tentatively. “Can we look at this logically? Where was each of us when the brick was thrown?”

  “I was in my room, with my daughter Elizabeth,” Mrs. Simonelli said.

  “Therefore,” Brian said, “we know that Liz, at least, didn’t throw the brick through the window.”

  Mrs. Simonelli nodded, and Liz looked at Brian gratefully.

  “And George and I were in here together, when the brick was thrown,” Brian said.

  “And I was in the office on the phone,” Mr. Costain said, apparently content to have Brian make the inquiries.

  “Was anyone outside?” Mrs. Simonelli demanded.

  Celia raised a shaky hand. “I was,” she said, “Looking for Allie. But I didn’t find her, and I didn’t see anyone else around the school.” She swallowed. “I guess that’s not a very good alibi.”

  “Oh, come on!” Liz spoke up. “No one thinks you threw the brick. Unless you’ve gone completely psycho in the last thirty minutes.”

  Mr. Costain smiled wryly. “I think I can vouch for my daughter’s sanity. Where were you, Mr. Flynn?”

  “Um.” J.P. gulped. “I was, um, sitting in a classroom, studying.”

  “J.P.,” Celia said reproachfully. “Were you?”

  “Yes!” J.P. said, then squirmed. “Okay, so I was studying on my laptop.”

  “And what were you studying?” Mr. Costain probed.

  J.P. hung his head. “Praxor’s Game,” he muttered. But George, looking hard at J.P., wasn’t so sure that he was telling the truth.

  “Ah,” said Mr. Costain. “Some material for confession, Mr. Flynn.” He looked around. “Where’s Mr. Kosalinski?”

  “Here,” came a voice from the hall. James stumped into the room, looking warily at the group. “What happened?”

  “Where have you been since you left the cafeteria?” George demanded.

  James snorted. “In the men’s room,” he said loftily. “Recovering my good temper.”

  “Did anyone see you there?” George asked, but Mr. Costain intervened.

  “I did,” he said. “I can vouch for Mr. Kosalinski.”

  George glanced at Brian, who looked troubled. In the silence, they heard someone quietly opening a door. There were light footsteps in the hallway, and then a figure came into view.

  It was Allie. She started when she saw everyone looking at her.

  “You!” exclaimed Mrs. Simonelli pointed her finger in wrath. “You broke the window!”

  Allie’s mouth dropped open. George could see her looking past them to the shattered glass.

  “Tammy—”

  Mrs. Simonelli turned on Mr. Costain. “You see what happens when you let just anyone into the school? She doesn’t want to be here, she’s never wanted to be here, she’s been missing for the past half-hour, and now she’s sneaking back into the school! What more proof do you want?”

  “Tammy, that’s enough!” Mr. Costain thundered. “One more word and I will fire you!”

  Mrs. Simonelli’s eyes widened, and she stopped.

  Mr. Costain turned around. “Allie,” he said. “Let me explain-”

  But Allie was already gone.

  Allie plunged through the woods. They didn’t want her in the school. She didn’t belong here. They thought she was faking it, playing at being Catholic –

  Well, aren’t you?

  The quiet thought struck her hard.

  In fury she turned around. “Go away!” she yelled at the Truth Guy. “Leave me alone! I just wish you would...quit it!”

  “Allie?”

  She halted, startled. But the voice was human, and familiar. She turned to see George trudging through the fallen leaves toward her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I guess,” she mumbled.

  He looked around. “Were you yelling at someone?”

  She knew her face was bright red. “No one. Just blowing off steam.”

  “I can see why,” he said. He nodded towards Chimney Rock behind her. “I thought I’d find you here. Going to SpeedEMart?”

  “Maybe. No.” She halted in confusion. “George, I don’t belong at your school.”

  “Don’t listen to Mrs. Simonelli,” he said gruffly. “I’ve known her since I was six. She’s always going wacko on something. She says stuff she needs to get off her chest, and then feels all g
uilty and apologetic about it for years afterward.” He shook his head. “She drives my mom nuts. Just ignore her.”

  “But…” Allie drew a deep breath. “James said I was pretending to be Catholic. When it was convenient. Do you think that’s what I’m doing?”

  George looked at his shoes, then straight in her eyes. “Sometimes, yes.”

  Allie was shocked; she hadn’t expected him to be so straightforward. “What?”

  “Wrestling tryouts,” he said. “The Halloween dance. You know what I’m talking about? Those times when you were ashamed to be seen with us?”

  Her face grow hot again. She was mad at herself: she’d asked him for a straight answer and he’d given her one.

  “Okay,” she said grudgingly. “Anything else?”

  George looked away. Then he looked back at her. “What about Tyler?”

  All her defenses rose up again. Tyler was her boyfriend, her link with her friends and old life back at Sparrow Hills. She wasn’t going to give up Tyler to be Catholic, or whatever it was they wanted.

  “Allie,” George said suddenly, speaking quickly. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Tyler is not a good guy. Not for you, not for anyone. I’ve seen him in the locker room at wrestling practice. He looks at pictures. Of girls.”

  “What do you mean, he looks at pictures?”

  “Porn,” George said, his face red. “It’s a sin. I mean, Catholics believe it’s a sin.”

  “Tyler isn’t Catholic.”

  “But it’s still wrong. He’s cheating on you. You know what I mean? With those other girls in the magazines. You don’t deserve a guy like that, and he doesn’t deserve you.” He looked her in the eye again, then looked back down at his shoes.

  Allie suddenly became aware that someone else was coming through the woods. They both turned and saw Mr. Costain.

  “Hello!” he said, looking out of place trudging through the leaves in his suit and tie. “May I join you?”

  “Sure,” George said, glancing at Allie.

  “Actually, I’d like to speak to Miss Weaver for a moment,” Mr. Costain said. “If you’ll excuse us, George.”