Highly Illogical Behavior (2 page)

T
herapy didn't really work on Solomon because he didn't want it to. They tried taking him to someone when he was twelve, after realizing his tantrums and crying fits were more than just being a spoiled suburban kid. But he wouldn't talk to the therapist. Not a single word. And what were Jason and Valerie supposed to do? How do you discipline someone who
wants
to spend all day in his room? If they grounded him from the computer or TV, he'd just read books all day. And neither of them was going to start taking his books away.

He'd been a quiet, shy kid at school. The kid slumping in his desk in the back of the room that still managed to get A's and B's. There, he'd perfected the art of invisibility. But, at home, he laughed and joked around with his parents. He even listened to music too loud sometimes and sang made-up songs while he helped do dishes or set the table.

He was still in therapy when he had his meltdown at school, and so Jason and Valerie decided to try a new therapist—one who charged twice as much. Solomon went
and, like always, said nothing. But he listened. He listened very well and as soon as his first session was over, he'd figured out a way to quit seeing
this
therapist, too. And he wouldn't even have to lie about it.

“She thinks you guys are abusing me or something.”

“She said that?” his dad asked.

“Didn't have to,” he answered. “Asked me all about your work schedules and whether or not you guys fight or yell. She's out for blood. I'm not going back.”

And he didn't. Who were they to argue against it, either? When he was home, he was better. He was calm and happy and easy to get along with. The panic attacks were few and far between, and even though they'd never admit it, it actually made their lives much easier. No parent-teacher conferences, no driving him to school in the mornings and picking him up in the afternoons. At just thirteen years old, he needed very little from his parents and even less from the world. He wasn't bored or lonely or sad. He was safe. He could breathe. He could relax.

Solomon never had a lot of friends in school, just kids he'd say hi to or trade homework answers with from time to time. But, somehow he'd always end up having lunch with this kid named Grant Larsen. Grant was that sort to constantly talk about
hot
girls
and action movies and which teachers he hated most. That is, when he wasn't bragging about his dad's “cool job” for an electric car company.

“Then why don't you guys have one?” Solomon would ask him.

“We don't have any way to charge it at home yet. But, soon, man. Real soon.”

Grant didn't mind so much that Solomon never talked about girls or bragged about
his
dad's cool job. He just liked being listened to and that happened to be one of Solomon's strong suits. He'd nod and respond with one or two word answers. It was the only way he could sit there surrounded by hundreds of loud kids without freaking out. He would focus on Grant and keep quiet. Any more attention than that, and he risked having a panic attack right there in front of everyone. Like the one that eventually sealed his fate as the crazy kid.

To his credit, Grant
did
come to see Solomon after the fountain. But, at home, Solomon wasn't the muted listener he'd been at school. He was himself. And that was someone who Grant didn't seem to like very much.

“You want to play a game or something?” Solomon asked one day, just a few weeks after leaving school.

“What kind? You got a PlayStation?”

“Oh. No. I suck at video games. I meant a card game or something. You like strategy games?”

“Are you asking me to play Dungeons and Dragons? Because hell no. I'd like to not die a virgin.”

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“Tell that to my uncle Eric. Plays those nerdy games with all his nerdy friends all the time and my mom says he'll probably be alone forever.”

“She sounds nice,” Solomon said under his breath.

“Don't be a dick, I'm just trying to say it's a little lame.”

It wasn't lame. Not even a little. And it didn't take long for Solomon to realize that he didn't need a friend. Which worked out well, because after a few months and a few
more failed attempts at hanging out, Grant eventually stopped coming over altogether. His parents asked him a few times what Grant was up to, why he'd been so busy, and Solomon just shrugged it off and said he didn't know. He knew. He was busy boring someone new to death.

See, Solomon's world wasn't lonely like you'd think. It wasn't dark and sad. It was small, sure, but it was comfortable. Why would it need to be anything but that? He knew his parents worried, though, and that was really the only thing that bothered him. What he wished, more than anything, was to be able to explain to them how much better it was now. But judging from their silence on the issue, and his lack of a therapist, he figured they already knew.

L
isa had learned some important things from her mother. Like how to put on mascara while driving and what time of year it's okay to wear white shoes. But, mostly, Lisa learned that if she settled for a life she didn't want, then she'd end up just like her—overworked, mildly depressed, and failing miserably at a third marriage.

Lisa wanted more than Upland, California. It wasn't the worst place on earth, by any means, but it wasn't
her
place. Someone like Clark could live there forever, happy enough to have a quiet little life and never make too many waves. But Lisa needed something bigger. She wanted to be important. And that wasn't going to happen in the Inland Empire. Luckily, with her junior year coming to a close, Lisa saw an end in sight. And now that she had an appointment to see Solomon Reed's mom again, she was feeling pretty confident about her escape plan.

She still wasn't sure what to do about Clark, though. She loved him. It was hard not to, but every attempt she'd made at taking things to the next level had been shot down.
He didn't want to talk about college, always saying he just wasn't ready yet. And, despite his looks and confidence, it turned out he wasn't ready for some other things, either.

Clark wanted to wait. Lisa wasn't sure what, exactly, he wanted to wait for, but every time she tried to initiate anything even close to sex, he'd remind her that it wasn't the right time yet.

Of course she never once considered that the problem could be her.

“He's religious,” she told her friend Janis on the phone. “That's why, right?”

Janis Plutko had been Lisa's best friend since the first grade. But, ever since she'd become a born-again Christian sophomore year, Lisa had felt a lot of distance from her. She didn't have a problem with it, but sometimes she wasn't so sure Janis knew the difference between being religious and acting that way.

“
Please
,” Janis said. “I've dated three guys from Sunday School and every single one tried to feel me up. God's not your problem, Lisa.”

“Well, what is it then? And don't say it's me. It's not.”

“Lisa . . . he's on the water polo team
and
he has three older brothers,” Janis said.

“What? Not again, Janis. He's
not
gay
.”

“Scientifically and superficially, these facts do not help his case for heterosexuality.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“They say the more older brothers you have, the more likely you are to be homosexual. For males, at least. And do I even have to explain to you why water polo is gay?”

“Boys in Speedos playing around in a pool,” Lisa said. “I get it. But he's not gay.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, Lisa. But don't count this out. I have an instinct for these things. Best gaydar in town.”

“The thing is, I don't really care that much right now.”

“Lisa . . . I think you should probably care about something like this.”

“Maybe everyone else should just care less about it. I've got too much to do anyway. Sex should be the last thing on my mind.”

“See, you'd make a great Christian. Maybe just start going to church and he'll be all over you.”

“I'm afraid I'd catch on fire as soon as I walked in.”

“I'd be afraid of that too,” Janis snapped.

“I love him. I'm pretty sure he loves me. So, for now, what's it matter?”

“This conversation started because of
your
sexual frustration.”

“Even so. Like I said: sex is distracting. I need to focus on school and on getting out of here.”

“Will you tell me about the dentist now?” Janis asked.

“She was nice. And I was right. He hasn't left the house in
years
.”

“Fascinating,” Janis said. “I wouldn't leave the house either if I'd done what he did.”

“He couldn't help it,” Lisa defended.

“Honestly, I don't know why you care so much about a kid you never met.”

Lisa's plan had been taking shape for some time before
she actually met Solomon's mother, but she wasn't quite ready to tell Janis about it. Sometimes when you're doing something you maybe shouldn't be doing in the first place, the last thing you need is someone like Janis to tell you why you shouldn't be doing it. Lisa was smart enough to know the risks, and she'd already made up her mind.

Later that evening, at Clark's house, Lisa tried bringing up college to see if she could get some idea of what was going on in that head of his.

“Given any more thought to schools on the East Coast?” she asked.

“I was researching the other day,” Clark replied. “Then I felt way too grown up and played video games instead.”

“Well, I finally decided for sure. So, maybe you can plan around where I go.”

“Okay. Where?”

“Woodlawn University. They have the second highest ranked psychology program in the country.”

“Why not go for the first?”

“Because I
know
I can be top of my class at one and I'm slightly unsure I could be at the other.”

“You're like Lady Macbeth without the murder.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much of a compliment that is to me.”

“So, I should be looking at schools close by? Where is that, Oregon?”

“Maryland,” she corrected. “Baltimore.”

“I always wanted to see Poe's grave.”

“Ridiculous,” she said. “I have never understood this
universal fascination with gravesites. It's morbid and just . . . sad.”

“I go to my granddad's grave sometimes. It's nice.”

“Sorry.”

“Doesn't matter to me,” he said. “I like what I like, you like what you like.”

“What do you do there? Just look at it and be sad?”

“No. Usually I just pray or talk to my granddad like he's still here. It honestly makes me happier than it does sad.”

“People are strange, aren't they?”

“Is that why you're so dead set on fixing us all?” Clark asked.

“Not you,” she said quickly. “You're good like you are.”

“Thanks. So . . . Woodlaw . . .”

“
Woodlawn
,” she corrected.

“Yeah, that. Can you get in?”

“With my eyes closed.”

“What do you have to do? An essay or something?”

“Yeah.
My personal experience with mental illness
.”

“Shouldn't be too hard,” he laughed. “You can just write about your mom. Or maybe
my
mom. She's legitimately insane.”

“No. It has to be unique. It has to be the best one they read. Maybe the best one they've
ever
read. They give one scholarship a year. Full ride.”

And she knew exactly what she was going to write about. It had practically hit her over the head the second she saw Dr. Reed's ad in the paper. She needed to find Solomon, charm him, and counsel him back to health. Then, she'd
record it all in her essay to Woodlawn and be well on her way to securing her place among the greatest psychological minds of the twenty-first century. They'd be naming a building after her by the time she had grandkids.

But, she'd need to get started soon if she wanted to have guaranteed success. Especially since, by the sound of it, she could be dealing with a full-blown agoraphobe. That isn't something a person can conquer in a few weeks. Lisa would need several months with him to make the kind of progress she wanted—and she was already nearing the end of her junior year. That would allow just enough time to get her application in early. She wouldn't settle for being wait-listed and she wasn't about to apply to the third best psych program in the country. This was where she belonged and it was where she'd end up, no matter what.

“I'm going to write about my cousin,” Lisa said.

“The one in the
place
?”

“Institution,” she corrected. “I met him once. He gets out sometimes. Gets to come home for a weekend or two a year. It's weird. I've always wanted to talk to him or try to get to know him. I never do though.”

“I'd be careful there,” Clark advised. “No telling what could be wrong if he has to live away from everyone like that.”

“No telling,” she said. “But maybe I'll try to talk to him anyway.”

Despite her interest in psychology, Lisa wasn't really planning to talk to her cousin, or anyone in her family for that matter. She could barely stand being in a room with her mom and her dad's birthday cards quit coming when
she turned nine. She just needed a good cover so Clark wouldn't find out about Solomon. Not yet, anyway. You don't go telling your boyfriend that you need to spend a few months with another guy, especially one with a history of emotional instability and public meltdowns. She'd find the right time. Ignorance was bliss to Clark, so she was just doing him a favor anyway. He could wait a little longer to find out about her project. After all, it seemed like he really liked waiting on things.