Highly Illogical Behavior (10 page)

S
olomon couldn't believe this guy. He knew five phrases in Klingon
and
Dothraki. And he showed off these skills with a confidence that normally would've annoyed Solomon. But, from Clark, it was endearing and innocent. It felt like he'd always been around. And just after Lisa beat them both at the first game, Solomon realized they'd been practically ignoring her the entire time.

“Sorry,” he said, looking her way. “I bet we're boring you to death.”

“I'm past death,” she said, smiling. “Hell was great. Less
Star Trek
references.”

They ended up playing two more rounds, with a break for pizza in between. Lisa won the first and Clark won the second. It was weird, having friends like this, at his house, playing a game like it was no big deal. It wasn't to them, he thought. Which was so perfect—nothing was forced. They were just there to have fun.

Mostly, though, he watched Clark. Every single turn he would silently inspect his hand, looking back and forth from the table to his cards before making a move. When he
drew a good card, he'd raise his right eyebrow just slightly enough to be noticed and when he drew a bad card, he'd frown a little. And even despite noticing these things, Solomon was still too distracted to beat him.

“Beginner's luck,” he said after the second game. “Your time will come. Rest assured.”

“Oh yeah?” Clark asked. “You care to make it interesting?”

“I do,” he replied. “I wager the hand of your lady.”

“Wait . . . what?” Lisa said, helping put away the cards.

“Oh, you can have her,” Clark joked. “What else you got?”

“Very funny,” Lisa said. “It's getting kind of late.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed. “Where are your parents?”

“They went to dinner and a movie,” he said.

“Now
that
is something I bet you miss,” Clark said. “Going to the movies, I mean.”

“I do. But, I have Wi-Fi and TV, so it's not a big deal.”

“But the
pop
corn,” Clark added.

“Sometimes they bring some home.”

“Dude, we could bring you stuff from the outside, too, you know.”

“He's not in prison, Clark.”

“Sorry . . . I didn't mean it like that.”

“No, it's cool,” Solomon said. “I don't miss much. It's easier than you guys think it is.”

“I saw this movie called
Copycat
once,” Clark said out of nowhere.

“I know that movie,” Lisa interrupted. “With the chick from
Alien
.”

“Yeah. Sigourney Weaver. Anyway, she played this criminal psychologist who couldn't leave her apartment.
But then she gets all wrapped up in helping this detective find a serial killer.”

“Oh no. Do you guys need help finding a serial killer, too?” Solomon asked. “This explains everything.”

“Or maybe someone
else
needed your help finding
us
,” Clark said.

“That makes sense,” Solomon said. “Now you're going to kill me?”

“
Serial
kill you,” Clark said.

“Now you're just being ridiculous, dude.”

“Why does, like, every show on TV have a serial killer now?” Lisa asked. “There are five in the world and a thousand on TV. Every week, it's a new sociopath making sculptures with human body parts.”

“You have such a way with words, Lisa,” Clark said.

“She's right, though,” Solomon added. “If there were
that
many serial killers in real life, we'd all be scared shitless.”

“Have you ever been scared shitless, though?” Clark asked. “Like, so scared that you can't even think about ever taking a shit again. You're just done. For life.”

“You're so gross,” Lisa said.

“Have you?” Solomon asked Clark.

“Oh yeah. This one time . . . I guess it was about a year ago . . . my friend TJ and I went in this doll room at his grandma's house and I swear to you we saw one move.”

“A doll?” Solomon asked.

“Yeah. So, this room was filled floor to ceiling with those old creepy porcelain dolls. The ones with the evil eyes, you know, that follow you no matter where you go. She collected them. Must've been a real psycho because
right when I stepped into that room, I felt the devil trying to get inside me.”

“I don't believe in the devil,” Solomon said.

“Me neither,” Lisa added.

“You haven't seen what I've seen,” Clark said with true terror in his eyes.

“He was really freaked out for a while,” Lisa said. “It was hilarious.”

“I still can't walk through the toy aisle at Target,” he said.

“All right, I'm falling asleep,” Lisa said, stretching her arms out above her head. “Thanks for letting us hang out, Sol.”

“Yeah, anytime,” he said.

He smiled and reached his fist out to meet hers. This is how they always said good-bye, but he got suddenly nervous about doing it in front of her boyfriend. When their knuckles met, Clark set one hand on top of theirs and shouted
One, two, three, break!

“Weirdo,” Lisa said. “Say good-bye, Clark.”

“Well, the night was too short, my friend,” Clark said, extending a hand to Solomon.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” he asked just as his hand gripped Clark's.

“Oh, umm. . . .” Clark had a surprised look on his face.

“Sorry,” Solomon said. “I mean. Thanks for coming.”

“I'm free tomorrow,” Lisa said, looking Clark's way with wide eyes.

“Oh, yeah. Me too. It's Saturday, though, so I'm sleeping like half the day but that's it.”

“Perfect,” Lisa said. “I'll call when we're on our way.”

After they were gone, Solomon walked to his room and fell back onto the bed, letting his feet dangle off one side. It was pitch-black except for a faint red glow from his alarm clock. It was so quiet suddenly, like it had always been. And even though he was a little relieved to finally be alone, he replayed the entire night in his head. He'd made it through without any problems. But instead of celebrating it, Solomon felt his heart racing and his breathing picking up and his hands shaking. He turned and grabbed a pillow, pressing his face into it and trying to take deep breaths. And there in the darkness he rode it out as he heard his parents getting home. When the door slowly opened a few minutes later, he pretended to be asleep, his face still covered.

•   •   •

The next afternoon, Lisa and Clark came over around three and as soon as Solomon answered the door, they each held out gifts for him.

“I thought I wasn't in prison,” he said, blushing but trying to move past it.

“Well, these are really for all of us,” Lisa said, holding up a plate covered in pink plastic wrap. It's a secret recipe. Best brownies you'll ever taste.”

“It's the truth,” Clark said. “And I brought some DVDs that are probably scratched up.”

“Awesome. On all accounts. Come on in.”

“Dude, are your parents ever home?” Clark asked, looking around.

“All the time,” he answered. “They should be pulling up any minute, actually.”

It didn't take long before Solomon challenged them to a rematch at Munchkin. It was already set up and everything. He'd been such a nervous wreck all day waiting for them—pacing around the house and watching the clock—that he started planning out everything they'd do that afternoon. Games were first, of course, but then he thought maybe they'd watch a movie or something. Sure, that was something he could do alone, but ever since Lisa showed up, he'd come to appreciate seeing how she reacted to things—what made her laugh or cringe or get sad. After a movie, he was hoping they'd stay late enough to watch
Saturday Night Live
with him. His parents had given up on the show years before, but it was a weekly tradition that Solomon refused to let go of and he was determined to share it with someone.

After their game, they all went to the kitchen to eat some leftover pizza from the night before. Solomon hoisted himself up onto the counter and Clark followed. Lisa sat on a swiveling bar stool and spun around slowly as they all talked and ate. And, for whatever reason, Clark decided to bring up dating—a topic Solomon wasn't too sure he was ready for.

“Okay . . . okay . . . but, like, don't you want to go on dates and stuff?” Clark asked.

Lisa suddenly stopped spinning and looked Solomon right in the eyes.

“I don't know,” he answered, caught a little off guard.

“You don't know?” Clark asked. “Look, there are lots of dudes out there, Sol.
Lots
of dudes.”

“Yeah, but, I'm here. They're there. It's just how it is.”

“Clark, leave it alone,” Lisa said.

“All right. Sorry. Just, you're a catch, man. Handsome. Funny. You've got
all seven seasons
of
STTNG
on DVD.”

That made Solomon laugh and the red went out of his cheeks soon enough. This guy didn't care if he was gay or straight or agoraphobic or anything. He was perfect. And he was probably the closest Solomon was ever going to get to a boyfriend. Which, despite sounding heartbreaking, actually felt like a real win for a kid who'd only been slightly out of the closet for a month.

A few minutes later, Solomon's parents got home and walked in on the three of them joking around and eating in the kitchen.

“Troublemakers,” Solomon's dad said.

“Mom, Dad, this is Clark.”

Clark hopped down from the counter and walked over to shake their hands.

“Jason Reed. Nice to meet you,” Solomon's dad said. “This is Valerie.”

“Hi. So nice to meet you,” Clark said.

“You have beautiful teeth,” Valerie said. “Do you floss?”

“Every day,” he answered. “And I've never had a cavity.”

“Good to hear,” she said. “Lisa, he's a keeper.”

“I see you guys are getting a pool,” Clark said. “What's that, a standard eight footer?”

“You looking to buy one yourself, Clark?” Jason asked with a grin.

“I wish,” he answered. “I've been begging my mom for one since I was five.”

“Come use ours anytime,” Valerie said.

“Awesome.”

“Yeah, even if you don't like Solomon,” Jason joked.

“Wow. Nice, Dad. You guys want to go watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” Lisa said.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Clark said. “I brought
Community
so you could see the Dreamatorium.”

“Awesome,” Solomon said.

“Okay, you guys have fun with whatever all that means,” Valerie said. “I've got a Pat Conroy book that isn't going to read itself.”

“And I've got a lawn to mow,” Jason said, walking away in the opposite direction of his wife.

“Dude, they're awesome.”

“Yeah, I like 'em okay,” Solomon said.

“No, really. My mom's a basket case, man. You've got it good.”

“He's right,” Lisa said. “You may suck at cards, but you definitely win the parent game.”

“It's too bad I've driven them so crazy,” he said. “They used to have fun. Used to go on trips and stuff. Last night was the longest they've been out in a while, aside from work.”

“They afraid to leave you alone?” Clark asked. “You seem pretty self-sufficient to me.”

“It's not that,” he said. “It makes them feel guilty or something. I don't know. It's like they're holding out until I'm better.”

“They don't make you see a shrink?”

“Used to,” Solomon said. “Came here once a week.”

“When did that stop?” Lisa asked.

“A little after the first year. She kept putting me on medicine that made me sick. I begged and begged and they finally told her to stop coming.”

“I saw a therapist when I was younger,” Clark said. “I was scared to sleep in my room alone.”

“That's normal, though,” Lisa said.

“Not when you're twelve,” he added.

“I asked my dad if I could try marijuana once,” Solomon blurted out.

“Seriously? Dude, we go to high school in California. We can get you weed.”

“Noted,” Solomon said. “So
that's
why they call it
high
school?”

“Boo,” Lisa said. “Try again.”

“Okay . . . okay . . . umm . . .
Upland
? More like
High
land!”

Clark laughed, but Lisa just shook her head and tried not to smile. Solomon loved how she was always pretending like her sense of humor was above theirs when it was so clear to him that she loved every second of their stupid banter.

At around two in the morning, after more games, an especially lame episode of
SNL
, and way too many bad jokes, Lisa finally stood up and said it was time to go. Clark seemed as bummed as Solomon, but they all had that middle-of-the-night sleepy look in their eyes. Solomon walked them to the door and they said their good nights. He wanted to ask when he'd see them next, but he got shy about it at the last minute and didn't say anything.
He couldn't just invite them over every day and expect them to never say
no
.

Lisa hugged him around the neck before she stepped outside and as he went to give Clark a handshake, he was met with a big squeeze around the shoulders. He didn't know what to do or whether or not he should hug him back, so he just stood there with his arms limp and let it happen. Then Clark pulled away and had this huge smile on his face. “You're all right, man,” he said.

Solomon watched them from the door as they walked down the driveway and got into Lisa's car. He waited as the engine turned on and the headlights lit up, giving them a wave as they backed out and drove off, his hand staying up in the air until they were out of sight. It hadn't happened before, really, so he tried to think about something else to keep from freaking out. But it wouldn't go away. He felt it. It was small and it was complicated, but he felt it all the same. He wanted to follow them. He wanted to walk outside and follow them into the world.