Highly Illogical Behavior - John Corey Whaley Page 0,13
little,” he said. “Not too much.”
It had been a long time since Solomon had talked to someone this young, and he wasn’t really sure what he was doing. He felt compelled to say things like “cool” and “chill” and “brb,” and was very relieved that she was barely letting him speak.
“Anyway, I’m sorry to call like this, but I just wanted to confirm that you got the letter and that you know I am totally okay with whatever you decide. I will say this, though. I am a hell of a friend. You can ask my best friend Janis Plutko. Would you like her number?”
“No . . . thank you. I . . .”
“Oh no. I’m freaking you out right now, aren’t I? I guess I just get too excited about things sometimes. Clark says I get too excited about everything. Even the things that piss me off. What sort of things piss you off, Solomon?”
“Umm . . . I don’t know . . .”
“You know what? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I have obviously caught you at a bad time. Would you like to call me later or . . .”
“Can you come over Wednesday?” he interrupted.
“This Wednesday? Of course I can.”
“Great. So, the address is 125 Redding Way.”
“Got it. How’s after three p.m.? Are you free around then?”
“I’m always free,” he answered. “So, yeah.”
“Awesome. Thank you, Solomon. I promise this won’t be weird. Just fun. Maybe a little weird, but weird in a fun way. Fun. Focus on the fun part.”
“The fun part, right,” he said. “I will.”
“Until Wednesday then,” she said.
“Okay. Bye.”
He hung up and ran into the bathroom across the hall. He knelt down on the cold linoleum and stared into the toilet bowl. He could see his face in there, staring back at him as he drew in slow, deep breaths. Seeing himself in toilet water was not the way to feel confident about his decision to invite Lisa over. But, what could he do about that now anyway?
He didn’t lose his lunch, but he came close. So he had to count and breathe and sit on the bathroom floor just in case it got worse. But it didn’t. His heartbeat settled. The air got thicker. And he stood up. He walked over to the sink, splashed some water on his face, and then walked out into the hallway, letting it drip down his cheeks and neck, some of his hair stuck to his forehead.
Just before he stepped around the corner to the living room, he overheard his grandma spilling the beans about the pool, just like he knew she would. And as soon as he stepped into view, they all looked over at him in unison. Then he gave them an affirmative nod and they all smiled.
“Better buy this kid a bathing suit,” Grandma said.
EIGHT
LISA PRAYTOR
Solomon didn’t sound as wounded and frail as Lisa had expected. He sounded a little nervous, but no more so than anyone getting a phone call from a complete stranger would. Her first thought was relief—maybe this kid would be easier to help than she’d expected. But, she knew she couldn’t assume too much before she’d even met him. And he said yes. She had no idea why anyone would get a phone call like that and actually agree to see her, but he had and he did and now she was well on her way to being the best thing that ever happened to him.
She wanted to share her good news with Clark, who was at his dad’s apartment in Rancho Cucamonga where he spent a court-ordered fifty percent of his time. Harold Robbins was a tax attorney and he was just as boring as that sounds. But, he’d do anything for his kids and Lisa adored him. She called Clark and he picked up on the first ring.
“Clark Robbins, at your service.”
“I’m in,” she said.
“In what?”
“Solomon said yes. I’m going over Wednesday.”
“Oh, wow. That’s great.”
“Yeah. I waited around all day for him to call, but then I decided I couldn’t make it any longer.”
“Wait . . . you called him? Lisa, the guy obviously wants to be left alone.”
“Well, he took my call. And I figure he’d have hung up on me if he didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”
“Good point, I guess. Well, how’d he sound?”
“Normal,” she said. “A little caught off guard, but why wouldn’t he be?”
“So then you invited yourself over there?”
“No. Can you have a little more faith in