“It’s a great song.”
It seemed a little strange at first, but things weren’t too different with Lisa gone. Solomon noticed, though, that every time she did have a chance to come over, she seemed distracted, always sitting quietly and watching as he and Clark talked about all the things she thought were stupid. Sometimes Solomon wondered if she was filming a Teenage Boys in their Natural Habitats documentary in her head.
It was good that they’d gotten used to her absence, because as soon as school was out for summer, Lisa had to go to Camp Elizabeth. It sounded like Solomon’s own personal hell, complete with knot-tying classes and wilderness survival training. And the few times Lisa talked about it, she hadn’t seemed all that thrilled either. Apparently she’d been guilted into it by her friend Janis, who Solomon was forbidden to meet.
“She’ll try to pour holy water on you.”
“Never mind.”
Clark worked summers as a lifeguard at the Upland Community Center Pool. He hated it because his shift was from six a.m. to eleven a.m., five days a week. Sometimes, when he’d come over to Solomon’s after work, he’d fall asleep on the couch. There were even a few afternoons when he’d be right in the middle of a sentence and doze off completely. So, Solomon would just read a book or watch TV until he woke up.
“I want to quit so bad,” Clark said one day. “I feel like a zombie.”
“So just hang out here. All the food and Netflix you can stand and a swimming pool on the way.”
“Mom won’t let me,” he said.
“Well, if you don’t spend money, you don’t need it, right?”
“Yeah. It’s not just that, though. She wants me to learn responsibility or something. And it’s good for college applications.”
“Lisa’s worried you won’t go.”
“To college?” Clark asked. “I may not. I don’t know yet.”
“What else would you do?”
“That is also something I don’t know yet.”
“So, what’s something you’re good at? Aside from speaking made-up languages?”
“Swimming,” he said. “But I’m not good enough to make a career out of it.”
“That sucks. Are you sure?”
“It would be a very short career. And then what?”
“Maybe you can get paid to play video games or something. Don’t they need people for that?”
“Oh no,” he said. “I don’t want my favorite thing to be my job. That would be a nightmare. No thank you.”
“But you’d get paid to do what you love,” Solomon argued.
“And what if that makes me stop loving it? I can’t take the risk, man.”
“My dad loves building things and he loves movies, so he builds movie sets. That’s badass, right?”
“He does seem happy,” Clark said. “But, like, what are the chances someone would just hire me to play games all day? I wish that were realistic but I’m sure it’s a tough job to land.”
“I wonder if I’ll ever have a job,” Solomon said.
“You could work online I guess.”
“If I never get better, you mean?”
“Oh. No . . . I just . . .”
“Hey, I’ve accepted it. Maybe it sounds crazy to you, but that backyard may be the farthest I ever go.”
“Do you ever think about being out there again? Like all the way out there?”
“I didn’t use to,” he said. “Not much anyway. Just the thought of it would give me a panic attack.”
“And now?”
“It’s still terrifying. But I can at least talk about it without crying, so that’s a win.”
“Well, maybe you could just picture being with us, huh? Like if we’re out there with you, then it won’t be so scary.”
Solomon had good days and he had bad days, but the good had far outnumbered the bad since Lisa and Clark had started coming around. Sometimes, though, they’d show up and he’d look completely exhausted, drained of all his charm and moving in slow motion. They could do that to him—the attacks. Something about the physical response to panic can drain all the energy out of a person, and it doesn’t matter what causes it or how long it lasts. What Solomon had was unforgiving and sneaky and as smart as any other illness. It was like a virus or cancer that would hide just long enough to fool him into thinking it was gone. And because it showed up when it damn well pleased, he’d learned to be honest about it, knowing that embarrassment only made it worse.