Highly Illogical Behavior by John Corey Whaley Read Free Book Online Page A

Solomon. Didshe feel a little guilty for being secretive? Maybe. But she was way too determined to make this essay thing work to listen to another one of Janis’s lectures on morality.
    â€œBoring,” Janis said. “You want to hang out after school?”
    â€œCan’t. I’m helping Clark’s sister with her geometry homework.”
    â€œIs she paying you?”
    â€œClark’s dad is. Ten bucks an hour.”
    â€œDamn,” Janis said. “I mean,
darn
.”
    Lisa knew helping Solomon would probably put a strain on her friendship with Janis. She knew it would eat up time with Clark, too, not to mention all the hours she needed for studying, working on the yearbook layout,
and
presiding over Student Council meetings once, sometimes twice, a week. But it was worth it. Some people sign on for the impossible. And they’re the ones everybody remembers.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    She’d seen his house before—not because she was stalking him or anything—but because she’d been to a birthday party across the street once as a kid. When she got out of her car, an orange cat darted across the driveway and made her jump a little, almost dropping the cookies she’d baked for Solomon in the process. Yes, she’d baked him cookies.
    â€œLook!” she blurted out nervously as soon as he opened the door, presenting the plastic-wrapped plate with her arms outstretched. “Cookies!”
    â€œHi,” he said.
    He was standing several feet back, but he leaned forward to take the cookies and she got her first good look athim. He was handsome. His dark hair was slicked back to one side and he had big brown eyes—the kind that look a little green sometimes in the right light. He was tall, too, much taller than she’d expected. At least 6’1”. He smiled at her after he spoke, but she could immediately see how unnerved he was by all of this.
    â€œThat your cat?” she asked, still standing outside.
    â€œOh, no. That’s Fred. He’s the neighbors’.”
    â€œAh. I’m allergic.”
    â€œSame here.” He nodded his head a little.
    â€œSolomon? Am I going to get to come inside?”
    â€œYeah . . . yeah . . . sorry. God. Come on in.”
    He stepped back away from the door and let her enter. Then he used one foot to gently kick it shut, and Lisa wondered if that was as close as he’d get to the outside.
    â€œSo . . . umm . . .” Solomon attempted. “I don’t really . . .”
    â€œGive me a tour?” she interrupted. “That’d be a good place to start maybe.”
    â€œRight, right,” he said. “Uh . . . this is the foyer, I guess.”
    â€œIt’s lovely,” she said.
    He showed her the living room, dining room, kitchen, and den without saying much more. She asked lots of questions though, and he gave the shortest answers he could muster.
    â€œDo you cook much?” she asked.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œIs that your Xbox?”
    â€œNo, it’s my dad’s.”
    â€œCan I see your room?”
    â€œSure.”
    In his room, with its bright white, empty walls, Solomon took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched as Lisa walked around, inspecting his bookshelves and the tchotchkes he had scattered around on his desk. She was trying to be nonchalant, but it was hard to do with him watching her like that.
    â€œYou like to read I see.”
    â€œPasses the time.”
    â€œYeah. I guess it would.”
    â€œLisa,” he said, “can I ask you something?”
    â€œSure.” She sat down in his desk chair.
    â€œWhy are you here?”
    â€œYou know the answer to that,” she said. “To be your friend. But you’re going to have to be a little more talkative to keep up with me.”
    â€œSorry,” he said. “I’m not really sure what to talk