Highly Illogical Behavior - John Corey Whaley Page 0,63

that make you feel?”

“I never said it was right. But do you really think that’s all it was? You don’t need to spend every day with someone just to write a few paragraphs, Solomon.”

“Then she tells me Clark’s gay, that she’s sure of it, and of course—he isn’t after all, and now I’m back to where I started and I wish I hadn’t met either of them in the first place. That would make this better.”

“You must really miss them,” she said, stone-faced.

“I do.”

“Let me tell you something,” she said. “I spent a good part of my life being unhappy. I was stuck in my shitty little hometown for longer than I thought I could take. But I got out. It was life or death. And that decision led to every good thing that ever happened to me. Now, I don’t know what you want your life to look like. And I won’t pretend to understand what it feels like when you’re at your worst. I can’t imagine how awful it must be. But, I know what it’s like to constantly think about a life you aren’t living. That’s exactly how I felt when I was sixteen and if there was anything I could have done about it, I would have. I know it’s easier said than done. I know that. But, you have to try, Solomon. Just look at me. The older I get, the smaller my world gets. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, either. Life is short, kiddo. You have to at least try to live it before you end up where I am—counting down the days till they decide to put you somewhere you can’t escape from. That’s what I have to look forward to, you know? Having someone else wipe my ass in some place full of dying people.”

“Good lord, Grandma.”

“Now look at yourself,” she said. “Young and smart. This world could be anything you want it to be. Maybe my time’s running out, but at least I’m living. And if that’s what this is for you, being here inside where nothing ever happens, where you think you’re safe, then stay. Stay right here and you let me know how that works for you. Because I’m guessing it’ll never really be enough.”

“Maybe not.”

“I think you can do it,” she said. “And you’ve got plenty of time before I wither away and die to prove me right.”

“You said you’ve got what, like twenty years left?”

“At least. I quit smoking in the eighties, so maybe twenty-five or thirty. You’ll have your father’s hairline by then, no doubt.”

“Okay. Fine. I promise I’ll go outside before you kick it.”

“Attaboy,” she said, looking down at her cards.

For the rest of the game, he kept picturing her stuck in a nursing home somewhere, sad and lonely and wishing he’d come see her, wishing he could. He was afraid of the world, afraid it would find a way to swallow him up. But, maybe everyone was sometimes. Maybe some people can just turn it off when they need to.

After his grandma left, all he could think about was growing old and running out of time, so he used the surprising rush of courage it gave him to walk back to his bedroom, dial Clark’s phone number, and wait for an answer.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspy.

“Are you okay, man?”

“I think so. I mean, yeah. I will be.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say . . .”

“I bet you tried to talk her out of it,” he interrupted.

“A few times.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to, then you told me how you felt and I . . . I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Did you want to meet me or was it part of her plan or whatever?”

“I asked to meet you,” he answered. “But she told me it would help, too.”

“You want to know how I know you love her?” Solomon asked.

“How?”

“Because you kept her secret. You protected her.”

“I was protecting her and you,” Clark corrected.

“Have you talked to her?”

“No. She texts me every morning, but I haven’t answered yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“After everything she’s done?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably. How ridiculous is that?”

“Not at all,” Solomon said. “I’d forgive you for the same.”

“You know I came and got my van, right?”

“The holodeck’s not the same without it.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Do you really care or are you asking for Lisa? So she can record it in her notes?”

“I don’t know what she was thinking,” Clark

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