Highly Illogical Behavior(17)

“A cold, huh?”

“Don’t talk back, Lisa.”

“That wasn’t talking back,” she defended. “Where’s Ron?”

“Business trip. At least that’s what he told me.”

“Do you think he’s lying or something?” Lisa asked.

“I just don’t know anymore.”

Then she started crying. She always cried when she talked about Ron. Lisa had stopped feeling sorry for her a long time ago. But she still sat there and listened as her mom went on and on about a fight they’d had the night before. It was over money this time, which didn’t surprise Lisa one bit. Her mom worked eighty hours a week and Ron had been changing jobs a lot lately, which wasn’t a good sign. Do phlebotomists even take business trips?

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Lisa said.

“I know, honey. You know how emotional I get sometimes. I just need a good cry and then I’ll be back to normal.”

But Lisa wondered whose definition of normal her mother was going by. Things with her mom had always been weird. And she didn’t have the world’s best track record for maintaining healthy relationships, either. In fact, that was the longest conversation she’d had with her daughter in months.

Eventually, Lisa was able to go change clothes and when she got back downstairs, her mom was asleep. She cleaned the dishes and took out the trash. She wrote a note saying she’d be at Clark’s. And then she set a glass of water and two aspirins on the coffee table next to her mom on her way out.

When she got to Clark’s, he was in the driveway playing basketball with his little sister. Drew was only thirteen to Clark’s seventeen, but she was nearly as tall and a much better basketball player.

“Why even bother, Drew?” Lisa asked once out of her car.

“Right?” she said, shooting the ball.

“Hey, hey,” Clark said. “I’m letting her win.”

He walked over to hug Lisa and she held on for a little longer than usual, despite how playing basketball in the spring made him smell.

“Better save him, Lisa,” Drew said. “This game’s getting ugly.”

They went upstairs to Clark’s room and, as soon as the door was shut, Lisa started kissing him. It was pretty much the same every time. He would kiss her like they were filming a scene in a movie or something, all passion and no restraint. And then as soon as things started to heat up, he’d ease off and kiss her like they were at a middle school dance in the fifties. And God forbid Lisa tried to put her hands below his waist. He would, in the nicest and most subtle way possible, move her hands right back up to his stomach or chest every single time. And his stomach and chest, while quite impressive, could only do so much for Lisa.

“I love you,” he said before a long kiss.

“I love you, too,” she said back, again with her hands moving down.

“Come on, quit it.”

“You quit,” she said, trying again.

“Lisa!” he yelled, jumping up.

She was too embarrassed to say anything, so she just fell back onto the bed, grabbed a pillow, and held it over her face. She thought she might cry, but she didn’t do that often and it always took more out of her than it was worth.

“Lisa? Babe?” Clark said gently, sitting beside her and rubbing her arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to act like that.”

“Do you need to tell me something, Clark? Is there something I’m doing wrong?” she asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“No. No, not at all. Look, it’s just . . . I can’t wait to do this with you. But I told you I’m not ready. And I’m trying not to let the embarrassment kill me.”

She sat up, letting the pillow fall to one side. It looked like he’d been crying, or close to it anyway. She’d never made him cry before, never even seen it. She’d seen her stepdad cry though. It was something her mom had a strange talent for—turning a fight into a shame-fest that always ended with Ron getting emotional. Lisa didn’t remind herself of her mother very often, so this made her squirm and sent a sharp pain shooting through her stomach.

“Clark . . . I . . .” she said with a sad smile. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

She leaned forward to hug him, and he let his forehead rest on her shoulder. He was breathing so hard. She let the tip of her nose touch his and then she closed her eyes.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Ancient meditation ritual,” she whispered. “Repeat after me.”

“Okay,” he whispered back.

“Lisa is the only thing that matters,” she said in an almost chant. “Lisa is my life. She is queen of all that is good.”

“You say this to yourself?” he asked, holding in a laugh.

“Self-esteem is very important.”

“Let’s take a nap,” Clark said, holding her tightly. “The queen must rest.”

? ? ?

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been asleep, but it was definitely dark out and Clark’s family was definitely home. She could hear his mom’s voice downstairs, probably talking to Drew.

“Clark,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

“What time is it?” he asked.