Highly Illogical Behavior(54)

“Hey,” she said. “You alone?”

Right when she asked it, Clark stepped out behind him holding two cans of soda.

“Lisa,” he said, frozen in place. “Hi.”

“I guess nobody’s taking calls today,” she said.

“Sorry,” Clark said. “My phone died last night and I didn’t bring my charger.”

“You stayed the night?” she asked. They were all still standing there, Clark and Solomon by the door and Lisa about ten feet in front of them just barely visible in the pool light.

“Stayed too late and didn’t want to walk home.”

“Do you want to come sit down?” Solomon asked, shooting Clark a look asking for approval.

“Yeah, come on,” Clark said. “It’s freezing.”

They walked over to the pool and Clark draped a towel over his bare shoulders. Then he threw one to Lisa and one to Solomon, who each did the same. He took the seat right between them and they both stared at him, expecting him to speak first.

“You were wrong,” he said to Lisa in an almost amused, but still quiet tone.

“I was?”

“Not gay,” Solomon added, shaking his head.

“Shit,” she said. But it was low and weak, not angry. She sat there for a few seconds not looking up at them. She wasn’t one to blush, but she was sure her cheeks were on fire and she hoped the darkness would cover it up so she wouldn’t be mortified even more.

“At least you didn’t let it get out of hand,” Clark said sarcastically.

“So I guess you told him then?” Lisa said to Clark.

“What? No.” He shook his head and widened his eyes so she would drop it. But, it was too late.

“Told me what?” Solomon asked.

She wanted so badly to lie, to have just a little more time before being unmasked as a complete monster. But it was over now. It had to be over.

“About the essay,” she said, closing her eyes tightly.

“What essay?”

“Shit,” Clark said.

“Solomon . . . it seemed like such a good idea, and I didn’t know it would be like this. I didn’t know you would be like this. That you’d be you. And now . . .”

“Lisa, what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s an admissions essay,” Clark said. “To Woodlawn.”

“So what?” he said. “I mean . . . what about it?”

“They give one full paid scholarship a year to the candidate with the best essay,” Lisa said.

“I’m really confused. . . .”

“It’s supposed to be about her personal experience with mental illness,” Clark blurted out.

“It’s a psychology program?” Solomon asked.

“Yeah.”

“I thought you wanted to be a doctor.”

“I never . . .”

“You never said what kind,” Solomon interrupted. “So I guess I’m . . .”

“You’re her personal experience with mental illness,” Clark said.

“You knew?” Solomon asked. Clark just nodded his head with this expression of total defeat on his face.

“You guys need to leave,” Solomon said quietly. His voice was deep and sad and nearly unrecognizable.

“Sol, I . . .” Clark began.

“Leave,” he said, standing up. He started to pace along the edge of the pool and he let the towel fall from his shoulders and into the water.

“I’ll get that,” Lisa said.

“Leave it alone!” Solomon shouted. “Get out! Go home! Both of you! Go home!”

Tears were smeared across his face and even in the faint pool light, you could see the panic in his eyes. Lisa stepped toward him, but he jerked back, almost falling into the pool. She begged him to sit down and take deep breaths, and so did Clark, but he was too far gone. The more they tried to help, the more he paced and twitched and yelled for them to leave. It didn’t take long for his parents to come outside, and when his dad put an arm around him he shoved him to the ground. Then, just as he went in to try again, Solomon took his right hand, raised it into the air, and then slapped it hard across the side of his own face. And then he did it again, so hard that his mom whimpered a little and ran over to hold his arms back.

Through the house, and out to the front door, they could still hear him yelling. Lisa closed the door behind her and stopped to take a deep breath, like she’d just escaped from a monster in a dream. Even from the driveway, as they got into Lisa’s car, they could hear Solomon’s parents trying to calm him down. But he wasn’t calming down. He was yelling and throwing things. Lisa heard something hit the side of the house. Maybe he’d thrown a chair or one of those little garden gnomes his mom had all around the yard. Then, just as Lisa was about to crank the car, one loud yell from Solomon’s dad echoed through the neighborhood. “Damn it, Solomon! Stop!” And everything got really quiet.

As they backed out of the driveway, Lisa eyed the house with tears trickling down her cheeks. She looked over to Clark, who had his face completely covered with his hands. His legs were shaking up and down like he couldn’t stop them and a few times on the drive to his house, she thought she heard him crying. Solomon’s world had become his, too, and it looked like she’d just destroyed it. It was all over now.