Inside the Mind of Gideon Rayburn (15 page)

bonding

Late the next morning, driving back to school, Gideon slouches in the backseat as a stern Nicholas drives and a carefree Cullen chain-smokes, alternating between joints and cigarettes. A small but concentrated ache presses
against the top of Gid's head, but that's nothing compared to his depression. When he woke up, Pilar was gone and every remnant of her
—wineglass, cute little slip-on athletic shoes, shiny hair clip—was gone too. The tyranny of her
absence, he thinks, was almost not worth the magic of her presence. But that can't be all of it He feels scraped out,
utterly hollow. The yellowed nowhere of southeastern Massachusetts slips by, a deserted Ames's, a row of split-level
vinyl-sided houses, then a Cumberland Farms where guys in quilted flannel shirts with mullets blow on cups of
coffee.

In short, God's country.

"I'm depressed,
¹⁷
Gideon says.

"It's the Vicodin, dude," Cullen says. "It uses up all the serotonin, the stuff in your brain that makes you feel
happy and good about yourself, and then the next day, you don't have any left."

Someone might have told me that
before
I took the thing, Gid thinks bitterly. I think someone did. I think he was high when they said it.

But the reason Gid's really mad is that when Cullen came up to the room where he knew that he'd slept with
Pilar, he didn't ask him a single question. He wasn't at all excited for Gid. It was just like he assumed nothing
happened. All he said was, "Get your stuff. And don't talk in the car. Nicholas slept with Erica by accident, and he's in
a bad mood."

How do you sleep with someone by accident? Of course this annoyed Gid too. Here he is, trying to sleep with
people on purpose, and well...oh...never mind.

They stop so Nicholas can use the bathroom at a Shell station. Gid decides to give Cullen one more chance to

ask him a question. "Pretty amazing house," Gid says. Tots of space. Totally quiet last night considering...all the
people that were there."

Not a word.

Gid decides he can either get apeshit mad or become his own Pilar cheerleader.

Pilar. Pilar. Pilar! She did sit for a long time with her butt pressed up against him. She did share with him a
strong, mind-altering prescription drug. She did spend the night next to him. These thoughts are velvety smooth and
soothing and beautiful. He curls up to them and falls asleep.

He dreams that he and Pilar are swimming in the ocean outside the Winchesters' house. He has the sense, in
this dream, that the house belongs to them, that it is the future, that they are adults, that they are rich but playful. Pilar
whoops and laughs and pelts him with colorful shells. They're having a great time until one of the shells turns out to
be a big gray rock. It cuts his head. He bleeds. Pilar shrugs and slips into the surf.

When he wakes up, the car has stopped. Out the window, he can see the square top and spindly tower of the
Prudential Building. He smells pot. Cullen sits in the drivers seat now, and he passes a lit joint to Nicholas. "It's not going to be as weird as you think," Cullen is saying to Nicholas. "You shouldn't feel so guilty about girls. They don't
do anything they don't want to do. And they're not as innocent as you think, okay?"

"Okay," Nicholas says, his voice surprisingly childlike.

Nicholas's tone surprises Gid; it surprises me too. Even more surprising to Gid is Cullen's consoling and
advising Nicholas. Gid feels himself start to soften, just a little. Cullen truly seems to want Nicholas to feel better. And Nicholas truly seems to be hanging on Cullen's assurances. A guy like Cullen must be a great comfort to a guy like Nicholas. As much as Nicholas prides himself on being in control, Cullen reminds him that he might still survive if he
lost it.

Up to the right, Gid sees an apartment window decorated for Halloween, with orange and black ribbons
sprayed with some sort of synthetic, cobwebby stuff. He groans. Isn't September 27 a little early for Halloween decorations? "I can't believe I have to go back to school and get some girl to fall in love with me, even though I'm in
love with some other girl," he says.

Cullen and Nicholas turn around. Their faces light up when they see Gideon's awake.

"Did you guys go buy pot while I was asleep?" Gid asks. "Because this car smells like pot really seriously. I
mean, I know you guys are smoking it, but it also smells like we're growing pot in the car."

Cullen hangs over the seat and cups Gid's face in his hand, the way Pilar did last night. He reaches into the
pocket behind his seat, producing a baggie bulging with marijuana. "This," he says, "awesome pot. We just got from
Mickey's brother at B.U." He puts the pot back. "And what you've got coming is some of that"
—he hands Gid the lit
joint—"and some guidance."

Gid accepts the joint and puffs, listening.

Cullen continues, 'The time has come to go to the place where men who have lost their way can find it in the
wisdom of men who have gone before them."

"What?" Gid asks. "Are we going to a museum?"

"No, stupid," Cullen says. "And let me assure you that I mean 'stupid' in the nicest possible way. We're going to
a bar."

They walk across a mostly empty parking lot full of sad-looking cars, the undercarriages rotted brown with salt
and rust, most of the back windows decorated with Patriot and Red Sox decals. Cullen leads them through the metal
door of a squat, brick, industrial-looking building. There's no sign on it, but a small faux brass plaque in the brick
vestibule reads
dempsey's Tavern: Serving the Community Since last Tuesday.

The bartender, a broad-faced, fortyish Irish guy, comes toward them with such a swagger that even as he
moves forward the upper part of his body still seems to be moving backward. He looks Cullen straight in the eye and
asks, "How old are you?"

Cullen takes a bill out of his wallet. On the brown Formica bar top is a coffee can bearing a hand-lettered sign:
TWENTY-SIX PLUS Six EQUALS ONE. (I know what this is! It's about Southern Ireland and Northern Ireland becoming
united.) In the corner of the sign is a little shamrock. Cullen stuffs the bill into the can. "I don't know how old these
guys are," he says, "but today is my one hundredth birthday."

The man grimaces. He reminds Gid of Cockweed, except that where Cockweed is the kind of guy who shakes
with rage, this guy looks like he'd snap you in two with one hand and pour a shot with the other. "Go sit over there.
And try not to be too loud."

Gid's dad doesn't drink. He's in AA because he used to drink about seventeen giant Coors Lights a day and do
cocaine. (Gid doesn't know about the cocaine thing, but I do, because Gid knows somewhere in his mind about it,
and I am a lot better at sifting through that stuff than he is. Another thing Gid doesn't know: Pilar was late to school
partly because of her sister's wedding, but mostly because she had to fly to London to be fitted for a custom pair of
Costume Nacional boots.) As far as the bar, Gid likes being here. There are no windows. The door is upholstered in red vinyl and so are the booths along the wall. Gid feels a million miles away from everything
—almost as wonderful as being up in that room with Pilar. Up in the far corner is a smallish color TV broadcasting a Red Sox game. Ten customers, all well over fifty, contently drink and watch the Sox win. If any of them give a shit about the three prep
school kids settling into the corner booth, they don't say so.

Nicholas goes off to get them drinks. Cullen leans in and looks right into Gid's eyes. "I knew you wouldn't nail
Pilar," Cullen says. "That's why I didn't say anything."

So Cullen's not completely clueless. He knew that was bugging Gid.

"I know you wouldn't let me down. I know that even with Nicholas pulling his little Vicodin trick on you, you'd stay
cool."

"Trick?" Gideon says. "I don't understand."

Cullen leans back on his arms, surveying the bar as if it were his hangout and he weren't five years underage.
"Yeah, trick. He thought you and Pilar, all mellowed out, all groovy, would get it on. I knew you'd resist."

They thought he resisted?

Nicholas walks up. "You have to admit it was a pretty good idea," he says, setting down three pints of black
beer. The glasses say
Guinness.
So Nicholas is drinking too. "I mean, I deserve some credit."

"Dude, when it comes to you, I am Senor Credit," Cullen says. "I always say you are smarter than me. You're
just not as lucky. I know a thoroughbred when I see one." Cullen takes Gid's arm and raises it over his head. "My
man."

They thought he resisted?

This outpouring of support and confidence from Cullen about Pilar
—the idea that Gid didn't have sex with Pilar
was because he was behaving himself for the bet—should Gid actually believe it? Did Cullen actually think Gideon
had dictated the terms of how things with Pilar had gone, or rather, not gone? Or was he pulling a self-serving flattery
thing?

Fuck it. He feels comfortable enough to ask some questions. "So," Gid begins, "I just want to get your...input
on something. There's the whole bet thing with Molly, right? But then what about...I really like Pilar a lot. And I know I
have to put all this energy into Molly, but it's kind of hard to commit to it when...you know. Pilar."

Nicholas snorts. Cullen shakes his head. "I'm losing you," he says.

Nicholas, who generally gets things about an hour before Cullen does, laughs and says, "When you do get it,
you're not going to believe it."

It's difficult for Gid to proceed in light of this comment, but he manages.

"Because," Gideon says, "once I have sex with Molly, I'll be going out with her, for a while,
and..."

Cullen looks at Nicholas, sharing his pain. Then he shakes his head at Gid.

"Why?" says Cullen.

"Well, because," Gid says. He feels like he's being asked to explain why you get wet after jumping into a lake. Across the room, the old-timers shout, raising their arms weakly over their heads. The Red Sox scored. Wonderful.
Gid sighs and goes on. "You have to, like, work up to the whole thing, and you know, get the girl to like you, and then,
you know, after you do it, you can't just be like, 'Oh, I lied.'"

Cullen smacks Gid's head with his hand. "You don't have to say that you lied. You just say you're a guy."

"Okay," Gid says, like that all makes sense to him. Shit, he thinks. I can't do that. I mean, I guess I will, but I'm
not looking forward to it.

Cullen must sense Gid's lack of caddish resolve, because he gets up, places his hands squarely on Gid's
shoulders, and focuses on him the full force of his winning personality, it's truly overwhelming. Gid takes in the light in
Cullen's eyes, the glint in his smile, and the glow of his skin. He feels taken care of, adored, even though he knows
deep down it's partly an illusion. "My friend," Cullen says, "how would you like to know the terms of the bet?"

"It could be a great relief to you," Nicholas says. "Because if you thought you were the only one putting
yourself on the line and
—"

"You're not!" Cullen interrupts.

"Right. And if you know a little more about what's at stake," Nicholas adds, "well, maybe you won't think we're
such total assholes."

"I would like to know," says Gideon. "But I'm probably not going to stop thinking that you're assholes."

They laugh. The tide is changing here. The love grows. Almost makes you think male bonding is really sweet
and innocent. Ha.

Shots are purchased. Cullen and Gid drain the shots. "Okay," Cullen says. "If I win, I get to have sex with
Nicholas's sister." He nods at Nicholas.

"If I win," Nicholas says, "Cullen has to go out with one girl for an entire year. And she has to go to our school,
so that he has to see her every day. He can't cheat. If she breaks up with him for any reason, he has to find another
girl and start again. At day one."

The terms of the bet
—which involve Cullen's having sex and Nicholas essentially only bearing witness—are of
course painfully homoerotic. Of course, this is prep school. So Where's the big shock there?

"We're not just talking school year either," Cullen says. "An entire calendar year. Which means behaving in the
summer
—the season in which I'm accustomed to doing my best work."

Gid doesn't know what to say. He's in shock. He's flattered that the stakes of the bet are so high.