Highly Illogical Behavior (15 page)

L
isa was pretending to be sick so she wouldn't have to spend another whole day watching Solomon Reed steal her boyfriend. And it was
that
kind of thinking that told her she needed to talk to someone. That someone had to be Janis. Not the Janis from camp—fueled by anger and jealousy—but the one she'd known her whole life who could sometimes suspend her self-righteousness just long enough to say all the right things.

As Lisa knocked on the door, she closed her eyes and turned her head to one side, almost hoping no one would answer.

“What?” Janis barked, swinging the door open.

“Hi.”

“What do you want, Lisa?”

“We have to talk.”

“No we don't.”

Lisa knew what she had to do. The only way to reconcile with someone like Janis, who lived for drama, was to give her a good old-fashioned emotional breakdown. It was
through tears that she got her real strength. And Lisa was ready to pay up.

So, she silently stepped forward and hugged Janis around the neck, putting as much of her weight on her shoulders as possible. Lisa was prepared to put on a performance, but she hadn't expected the floodgates to open like they did and before she knew it, she and Janis were both sobbing in each other's arms.

It didn't take long before they'd made up. They were more like sisters than either of them would ever admit, so they'd had their fair share of big blowups in the past. Lisa wanted to take Janis to lunch, so she waited while her friend got ready and then drove her to a sandwich place downtown. They sat outside and Lisa looked over the menu while Janis texted someone, her fingers furiously tapping her phone screen. Then she let out a big laugh and kept texting, completely ignoring Lisa and everything else around her.

“Who's that?” Lisa asked.

She set the phone facedown and gave her friend a big, sneaky smile.

“I thought you'd never ask. I have a boyfriend.”

“A
what
? That's awesome!”

“His name's Trevor Blackwell. We met at Camp Christ Is Risen.”

“Last year?”

“Yeah. But, he had a girlfriend, so I waited and prayed and then, a couple weeks ago, he messaged me and said they broke up. You've got to see him. He's like a model or something.”

Janis picked her phone back up, clicked a few times, and handed it to Lisa. He was attractive enough, in that unassuming sort of way like the best friend in every movie you've ever seen. Lisa hammed it up, though.

“He's
so
cute, Janis. That smile. Maybe
I
should go to this camp.”

“We met during a reenactment of the crucifixion.”

“Your first date was a crucifixion?”

“Reenactment,” Janis corrected. “It wasn't a date. It was love at first sight.”

Lisa couldn't help imagining these lovebirds standing in the woods while two high schoolers pretended to whip a dude dressed like Jesus in the background.

“I'm glad, Janis. You seem really happy.”

“I am,” she said, grabbing her phone. “I just wish he lived closer.”

“Where's he live?”

“Tustin. But it may as well be Jupiter.”

“That's not
that
far,” Lisa said. “Like an hour.”

“An hour is an eternity when you're this in love. But, I'll see him at camp next week.”

“Janis, please don't get knocked up at Christian camp.”

“Can you imagine? My mom would kill me.”

“You could always call it a miracle Virgin birth maybe?”

“Well, gosh, I hadn't thought of that.”

After lunch, they went to a serve-yourself yogurt shop around the corner. It had been their spot once, after school and sometimes on Sundays. It was weird being there, after so long, and Lisa was feeling a little overwhelmed by Janis's nonstop talking.

“So, how are your boyfriends?” Janis asked.

“Good,” she said. “Just . . . yeah . . . good.”

“Look, I'm sorry for what I said, okay? It wasn't fair. And what do I know anyway?”

“Maybe you were right,” Lisa said, louder than she intended, and then threw her head down to hide her face in her arms.

“What?”

“I think maybe I was wrong,” she said, her face still covered.

“He's gay?” Janis asked, in a whisper, leaning down.

Lisa shot her head up and let herself slide down in the plastic chair.

“I don't know. He spends all his time with Sol.
All
his time. And when he's not doing that, he's talking about him or making plans with him. I didn't even realize it was happening and now I think it's too late.”

“Well, you're born gay, so if it's true, it was too late a long time ago, Lisa.”

“I guess so.”

“Spending all their time together doesn't make them gay, either. It makes them . . . I don't know . . . two loners who found each other, maybe.”

“True.”

“So, you could be reading too much into it. You need to be sure before you do anything.”

“What's there to do? I love him. He knows that. But it just feels weird between us now.”

“Even if he was gay, would Clark lie to you?”

“Yeah. That's the part I can't figure out. Plus, even if he is lying, shouldn't I be supportive? I can't make him feel guilty about being who he really is.”

“There's a difference in being yourself and cheating on someone. You think Clark would do that to you? And aren't you and Solomon close? Would
he
do that?”

“I don't think so,” she said. “But what if they can't help it?”

“Then at least maybe you'll get your scholarship.”

“I thought you
disapproved
?”

“I do. But, I mean . . . it's a unique perspective. Plus, you could get a lot of sympathy if you go for the whole
crazy kid stole my boyfriend
angle.”

“Clark doesn't want me to do it. He said he'd tell Sol about the essay if I write it. Just another reason I think he cares more about him than he does me.”

“No way,” she said. “He's just doing the right thing.”

“I know. So, maybe I just need to tell him, huh? Tell Solomon the truth and hope it doesn't reverse all the progress he's made.”

“He's made progress?”

“Oh, yeah. He goes into the backyard now.”

“And you think it's because of you?”

“I think he needed a push and I gave him one,” she said confidently.

“Lisa, if he finds out you lied, could he get worse than he was before?”

“I don't know. That's why I'm so afraid.”

“Okay, hang on a second,” Janis said. “So you don't
think Clark will forgive you if you write the paper unless you get Solomon's permission, which could wreck the whole thing?”

“Something like that,” Lisa said, staring down blankly at the floor. “And if I write it without his permission, Clark's going to tell him anyway.”

“Okay then. I'll say a prayer,” Janis added.

Lisa knew she'd need more than a prayer if she was going to keep Clark, Solomon, and the essay. In a perfect world, Solomon would be touched that she'd chosen to find and help him. And Clark would be impressed with her maturity and honesty, so much so that he'd either be honest with her in return or wake up and stop acting like he didn't care about their relationship anymore. But, this wasn't a perfect world—this was the world that Solomon Reed had run away from and the more Lisa thought about it, the less ridiculous that idea sounded to her. After all, wasn't she just trying to run away from the little part of the world that scared her, too?

S
ometimes Solomon had issues with guilt. And he couldn't talk to anyone about it, because he was afraid that would make it worse. He saw it like this: He didn't have any real problems. People starved to death. People got diseases. People's homes burned down, got torn apart by tornadoes, got repossessed. He was a spoiled kid in suburbia who was too high-strung to deal with the real world.

Lisa and Clark came along and made things better, though. Way better. But, that didn't help any with the guilt. In fact, every time they left his house, he'd get a shooting pain deep in his stomach, remembering that this is all he could be for them. And he was scared, too. He was afraid they'd always be waiting for him to change even more than he already had. Being outside had reinvigorated him, sure, but it hadn't made him want to leave the house. It got him closer. Of course it did. But, that was a long time away and he knew it. Now he had everything he needed
and
friends who would come see him, invitation or not. He wasn't so sure this was a step in the direction they all wanted, but he still held out hope that he'd get there
eventually, that one day he'd wake up and it wouldn't be enough for him anymore.

Solomon didn't know what it felt like to be in love. He'd seen it a million times, big and sweeping and beautiful in TV and movies. But he'd always wondered what it actually felt like to think about another person that much, to lose himself in someone else. Now he was thinking maybe he knew.

The day after his impromptu skinny-dip with Clark, Solomon called his grandma. It was time, he'd decided. He'd tell her how he felt about Clark and she'd have some pearl of wisdom for him, some Southern saying that would hit him in all the right places and put things into perfect perspective. That, or she'd ask him something inappropriate about gay sex and he'd get too embarrassed to keep talking to her.

“Joan Reed Realty. We'll take you home,” she answered.

“Hi, Grandma.”

“Michael Phelps? Is that you?”

“Funny. Want to have lunch with your grandson?”

“Well, isn't this a nice surprise. You finally have some time for me? Did your friends drown in the pool?”

“I thought you
wanted
me to have friends.”

“I do. You know I'm just picking on you. What do you want, In&Out?”

“You read my mind.”

When she got there, Grandma insisted they eat their cheeseburgers outside on the back patio. Solomon was sort of afraid he'd never get to be inside the house with his grandma again.

“What's on your mind?” she asked, taking a bite.

“Nothing.”

“You haven't called to invite me for lunch since you were fourteen. So, what's buttering your biscuit?”

“What?”

“What's bothering you. Context clues, Solomon. Context clues.”

“Sorry. Umm . . . I think I'm in love.”

“You're kidding me,” she said, dropping the burger onto her plate. “With Lisa?”

“Clark,” he said with a shaky voice.

“Shut up!” she said, nearly shouting. “I can't wait to tell my friends. I'm the first with a gay grandson; they'll be
so
jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Sweetie, come on. I'm hip. You think your grandma hasn't been dancing in West Hollywood before?”

“You have?”

“The gays love me. I think it's my accent.”

“It's definitely your accent,” he said. “Anyway, so . . . yeah. Clark.”

“You can do better,” she said bluntly.

“No, Grandma. It's not like that. He's straight.”

“I see. This is what's so complicated. You have to date
and
figure out who plays for your team. It must be exhausting.”

“I don't want to hurt Lisa's feelings, either.”

“Of course not. She's been good to you, Sol.”

“I know.”

“You sure he's . . . you know . . . not
into
you?” she asked.

“First off, please don't say that. And, yeah, I'm pretty sure.”

“Well, I don't know what to tell you. To me, it seems weird for a straight boy to spend all his time with a gay boy. But, just saying that aloud makes me think I'm completely wrong.”

“Me too.”

“Is he your
best
friend, Sol?” she asked. “Do you guys talk about everything?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then you know what you need to do.”

“Talk to him?”

“Exactly.”

“Thanks, Grandma. I think you're right. I don't want to lose him.”

“Just be careful, okay? Don't get your feelings hurt too bad. We are who we are. You know that better than anyone.”

•   •   •

Solomon knew the second he told his grandma about being gay that it wasn't a secret anymore. You'll remember that she liked gossip about as much as Solomon liked
Star Trek
, so telling everyone had been his plan from the start. But how would he do it? How do you tell the two people who know everything about you that they actually don't?

He walked into the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter, watching his parents chop vegetables in silence until they acknowledged him.

“What's up, kiddo?” his dad finally asked.

Then this came out:

“Mom, Dad, there's this episode of
The Next Generation
called ‘The Drumhead,' and in it, this medical technician
named Tarses is accused of sabotaging the ship. The investigator, this super hard-ass, then tells everyone that Tarses lied on his Starfleet Academy entrance application by saying he was one-fourth Vulcan when, in fact, he was one-fourth
Romulan
.”

“Fascinating,” his dad joked.

“Okay . . . where was I?” he looked all around, like the words were scrolling past him in the air and he was trying to read them. “Right. See, the Romulans. Oh boy, where do I even begin with the Romulans? Things aren't great with them all the time, okay? There's a lot of bad blood. And don't be confused with the original
Star Trek
, because, in that series, the Romulans are
always
bad guys. And in the movie reboots, too. Did you guys see the movie reboots?”

“Yes,” his mom said, a confused look on her face. “You're losing us, Sol.”

“Anyway, to be a Vulcan is just . . . it's better, right? Because Vulcans are peaceful, and they're all about logic and reason over emotion. But see the Romulans are
all
emotion. Passionate and cunning. It's what
fuels
them. They're always getting pissed and causing a lot of trouble. And, see, the writers were really smart because they created the Romulans to be a counterpoint to the Vulcans, but they made them share the same ancestry. It's so complex. I could go on for days about it, honestly.”

“But that would be highly illogical,” his dad said in a robotic voice.

“Good one,” he said. “But, can you see where lying about being
one
and really being the
other
could get you into some trouble with the Federation?”

“Sure,” his mom said. “But what the hell does this have to do with anything, Sol?”

“It has to do with the fact that Tarses lies about who he is and you can just see the guilt ripping him apart. You can see it on his face. And he says it's a mistake that'll be with him for the rest of his life.”

“Spill it,” his mom said.

“I don't want to make that mistake, okay? I don't want to lie about who I am, even if it doesn't matter. It's who I am. It's part of me.”

“What is?” his dad asked.

“I think you already know.”

Not many people would consider Solomon Reed lucky. He had debilitating anxiety, a weak stomach, and he was in love with his straight best friend. But in the parent department, he had won the lottery. So, he'd always known that when he finally told them, they'd make him feel like it was no big deal, like it didn't change a thing. They'd say they loved him just like he was, that there was no way they couldn't.

And that's exactly what they did.