Highly illogical behavior
Record details
- ISBN: 9780525428183
- ISBN: 0525428186
-
Physical Description:
print
249 pages ; 22 cm - Publisher: New York : Dial Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, [2016]
- Copyright: ©2016
Content descriptions
Target Audience Note: | HL700L Lexile |
Study Program Information Note: | Accelerated Reader AR UG 4.4 8.0 181890. |
Search for related items by subject
Subject: | Agoraphobia Fiction Panic attacks Fiction Friendship Fiction Gay people Fiction |
Genre: | Young adult fiction. |
Available copies
- 24 of 26 copies available at Evergreen Indiana. (Show)
- 0 of 0 copies available at Greenwood Public Library.
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- 0 current holds with 26 total copies.
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ONE
SOLOMON REED
Solomon never needed to leave the house anyway. He had food. He had water. He could see the mountains from his bedroom window, and his parents were so busy all the time that he pretty much got to be sole ruler of the house. Jason and Valerie Reed let it be this way because, eventually, giving in to their sonâs condition was the only way to make him better. So, by the time he turned sixteen, he hadnât left the house in three years, two months, and one day. He was pale and chronically barefoot and it worked. It was the only thing that ever had.
He did his schoolwork onlineâusually finishing it before his parents were home every evening, with bed head and pajamas on. If the phone rang, heâd let it go to voice mail. And, on the rare occasion that someone knocked on the door, he would look through the peephole until whoever it wasâa Girl Scout, a politician, or maybe a neighborâwould give up and leave. Solomon lived in the only world that would have him. And even though it was quiet and mundane and sometimes lonely, it never got out of control.
He hadnât made the decision lightly, and it should be said that he at least tried to make it out there for as long as possible, for as long as anyone like him could. Then one day trying wasnât enough, so he stripped down to his boxers and sat in the fountain in front of his junior high school. And right there, with his classmates and teachers watching, with the morning sun blinding him, he slowly leaned back until his entire body was underwater.
That was the last time Solomon Reed went to Upland Junior High and, within a matter of days, he started refusing to go outside altogether. It was better that way.
âItâs better this way,â he said to his mom, who begged him each morning to try harder.
And really, it was. His panic attacks had been happening since he was eleven, but over the course of just two years, heâd gone from having one every few months, to once a month, to twice, and so on. By the time he hopped into the fountain like a lunatic, he was having mild to severe panic attacks up to three times daily.
It was hell.
After the fountain, he realized what he had to do. Take away the things that make you panic and you wonât panic. And then he spent three years wondering why everyone found that so hard to understand. All he was doing was living instead of dying. Some people get cancer. Some people get crazy. Nobody tries to take the chemo away.
Solomon was born and will, in all likelihood, die in Upland, California. Upland is a suburb of Los Angeles, just about an hour east of downtown. Itâs in a part of the state they call the Inland Empire, which really floats Solomonâs boat because it sounds like something from Star Trek, which is a television show he knows far too much about.
His parents, Jason and Valerie, donât know too much about Star Trek, despite their sonâs insistence that itâs a brilliant exploration of humanity. It makes him happy, though, so theyâll watch an episode with him every now and then. They even ask questions about the characters from time to time just so they can see that excited look he gets.
Valerie Reed is a dentist with her own practice in Upland, and Jason builds movie sets on a studio lot in Burbank. Youâd think this would lead to some great stories from work, but Jasonâs the kind of guy who thinks Dermot Mulroney and Dylan McDermott are interchangeable, so most of his celebrity sightings canât be trusted.
A week after he turned sixteen, Solomon was growing impatient as his dad tried to tell him about an actor heâd seen on set earlier that day.
âYou know…the guy with the mustache. From the show…the show with the theme song…â
âThatâs every show on TV, Dad.â
âOh, you know the guy. The gun guy!â
âThe gun guy? What does that even mean?â
âThe guy. He holds the gun in the opening thing. I know you know the guy.â
âI donât know. Hawaii Five-O?â
âThatâs a movie, not an actor,â his dad said.
âItâs a television show. How can you work in Hollywood?â
âYou get your schoolwork done today?â Solomonâs mom asked as she walked into the living room.
âThis morning. How was work?â
âI got a new patient today.â
âKeep bringing in those big bucks!â his dad joked.
Nobody laughed.
âShe says she went to Upland Junior High. Lisa Praytor? Does that ring a bell?â
âNope,â Solomon replied.
âNice girl. Beautiful molars. But sheâs going to need to get those wisdom teeth out in a year or two or sheâll have to get
braces all over again.â
âDid you have braces?â Solomon asked.
âHeadgear. It was awful.â
âOh, it all makes sense now. You want to put others through the torture of your childhood.â
âDonât analyze me.â
âSolomon, stop analyzing your mother,â his dad said from behind a book, one of those creepy mystery novels he was always reading.
âAnyway, sheâs a nice girl. Pretty too. Only one cavity.â
Solomon knew good and well what was going on. His mom was doing that thing she did where she thought talking about some pretty girl would suddenly cure her son and have him walking right out the front door and straight to high school. It was innocent enough, but he hoped she wasnât actually that desperate for him to change. Because, if she was, then wouldnât these little moments, built up over time, eventually collapse into a mess?
Heâd heard their conversations about him a few times. When he was ten he learned that if he held a plastic cup against his bedroom wall, he could hear everything his parents were saying in their bedroom. The last time he listened was when his mom asked his dad if they were going to be âstuck with him forever.â After she said it, he didnât hear anything for a while. Then he realized it was because sheâd started crying as soon as the words left her mouth. Hours later, Solomon was still awake wondering how to answer his motherâs question. He eventually decided on a hard yes.
Â
TWO
LISA PRAYTOR
Sometimes life just hands you the lemonade, straight up in a chilled glass with a little slice of lemon on top. For Lisa Praytor, junior and straight-A student at Upland High, meeting Solomon Reedâs mother was that glass of lemonade. And it was going to change her life.
You may have known a Lisa Praytor at some point. She was the girl sitting at the front of your classroom, raising her hand to answer every single question the teacher asked. She stayed after school to work on the yearbook and as soon as she got home, she dove headfirst into her homework.
Sheâd always been one to keep a packed schedule, choosing at age eleven to live by the words of her great-aunt Dolores, who said, âNot a day on your calendar should ever be empty. Itâs bad luck. Twenty-four hours of wasted opportunity.â
Not even an offer from her boyfriend to drive to the coast and watch the sunset could tempt her off schedule. And Clark Robbins was the kind of guy who asked her to do things like that all the time. He was handsome without being threatening, and his tree-bark brown hair parted in a way that was particularly appealing to Lisa. On the day that Lisa met Solomonâs mom, sheâd been dating Clark for a year and seventeen days. She had it marked on her calendar for proof.
During eighth grade, after a seventh grader had an episode in front of the school, Lisa wrote an op-ed piece for the Upland Junior High Register to defend the boyâa scathing essay on the importance of empathy. It didnât go over well with her classmates and until the end of the year, rumors swirled around that Lisa was secretly dating the crazy kid who jumped into the fountain.
Had it not been for the student body of nearly one thousand at Upland Junior High, Lisa may not have been able to escape her failed attempt at heroism when she got to high school. She did, though, and most of her friends and classmates eventually forgot about it altogether.
But not Lisa. Sheâd seen him that dayâthis skinny little guy with messy hair taking his shirt off and dropping his pants and walking that slow, quiet walk toward the water. She never knew him, really, but sheâd always thought he looked nice, like the kind of guy whoâd hold a door open for someone else without a thought. And sheâd always hoped that someday sheâd see him again or, at the very least, hear that he was doing okay.
Then one day, Lisa saw an advertisement for Valerie Reedâs dental practice in the local newspaper. It took one Internet search to confirm that this was Solomonâs mother. Sheâd never really been looking for the fountain kid, despite thinking about him from time to time and wondering where heâd ended up. But the second she realized sheâd found him, she knew she had to get to him as soon as possible. And the only way to do that was to make an appointment with his mom. At the very least, Lisa would get a nice teeth cleaning and a free toothbrush. At the very best, sheâd make all her dreams come true.
âSo, where do you go to school?â Dr. Valerie Reed asked as she sat down to examine Lisaâs teeth. It was March twenty-fourth, a Tuesday, and Lisa was having a really hard time not asking a million questions about Solomon.
âUpland High. Are you Solomonâs mother?â
âYes,â she answered, slightly taken aback.
âI went to junior high with him. His pictureâs on the wall,â she smiled, pointing across the room to a photograph of Valerie, Jason, and Solomon hanging by the window.
âYou knew him?â Valerie asked.
âKnew him?â Lisa asked. âOh! Did he … ?â
âNo. God no. Sorry,â Valerie said. âHe just doesnât get out much.â
âPrivate school? Western Christian?â
âHeâs homeschooled.â
âYou do that and this?â Lisa asked.
âItâs all online. Okay, lean back for me. Open wide.â
âI was there you know,â Lisa said, sitting straight up.
âWhere?â Dr. Reed asked. She was beginning to look a little frustrated.
âThat morning. I saw your son … I saw his incident.â
âIt was a panic attack,â she said. âCan I get a look at those teeth now?â
âJust one more thing,â Lisa said.
âGo on.â
âWhy doesnât he get out much?â
Dr. Reed stared down at her in silence, her mouth covered with a blue paper mask, but her eyes searching for the right answer. And just when she went to speak, Lisa interrupted her.
âItâs just … no oneâs seen him in so long. He was there and then he wasnât. Itâs strange is all. I thought maybe he went off to boarding school or something.â
âHe made it one day at Western Christian. What do you do if your kid wonât leave the house?â
âHomeschool him?â
âIt was our only option. Open wide.â
As soon as Dr. Reed was done, Lisa picked right back up where sheâd left off, not even waiting for her chair to be all the way upright again.
âWhen was the last time he left the house?â
âYou sure are inquisitive, arenât you?â
âIâm sorry. Gosh, Iâm so sorry. I never meant to be nosy. Iâve just thought a lot about him over the last few years and when I realized you were his mom, I guess I got too excited.â
âItâs okay,â she said. âIâm just glad somebody remembers him. Itâs been three years. A little over, actually.â
âIs he okay?â
âMostly, yeah. We make it work.â
âMust get lonely,â Lisa said.
âYouâd think that, yes.â
âDoes he have any friends?â
âNot anymore. Used to though. You guys all grow up so fast. He just couldnât keep up.â
âCan you tell him I say hello? I doubt heâll know who I am, but just, you know, if itâs not weird.â
âIâll tell him, Lisa. And Iâll see you next Tuesday to get this cavity fixed up.â
Lying to adults was a little easier for Lisa than lying to her peers. Just like herself, none of her friends or classmates really trusted anyone, so lying was hard to get away with. But take someone like Valerie Reed, DDS, probably born in the late seventies to Southern California liberals, and youâve got an easy targetâsomeone who wants to trust everyone so much that they donât see a lie when itâs slapping them right in the face.
In the grand scheme of things, Lisa knew it was harmless, a necessary step in taking her master plan from concept to actuality. And what a plan it was.
She was going to fix Solomon Reed.
Her life depended on it.
SOLOMON REED
Solomon never needed to leave the house anyway. He had food. He had water. He could see the mountains from his bedroom window, and his parents were so busy all the time that he pretty much got to be sole ruler of the house. Jason and Valerie Reed let it be this way because, eventually, giving in to their sonâs condition was the only way to make him better. So, by the time he turned sixteen, he hadnât left the house in three years, two months, and one day. He was pale and chronically barefoot and it worked. It was the only thing that ever had.
He did his schoolwork onlineâusually finishing it before his parents were home every evening, with bed head and pajamas on. If the phone rang, heâd let it go to voice mail. And, on the rare occasion that someone knocked on the door, he would look through the peephole until whoever it wasâa Girl Scout, a politician, or maybe a neighborâwould give up and leave. Solomon lived in the only world that would have him. And even though it was quiet and mundane and sometimes lonely, it never got out of control.
He hadnât made the decision lightly, and it should be said that he at least tried to make it out there for as long as possible, for as long as anyone like him could. Then one day trying wasnât enough, so he stripped down to his boxers and sat in the fountain in front of his junior high school. And right there, with his classmates and teachers watching, with the morning sun blinding him, he slowly leaned back until his entire body was underwater.
That was the last time Solomon Reed went to Upland Junior High and, within a matter of days, he started refusing to go outside altogether. It was better that way.
âItâs better this way,â he said to his mom, who begged him each morning to try harder.
And really, it was. His panic attacks had been happening since he was eleven, but over the course of just two years, heâd gone from having one every few months, to once a month, to twice, and so on. By the time he hopped into the fountain like a lunatic, he was having mild to severe panic attacks up to three times daily.
It was hell.
After the fountain, he realized what he had to do. Take away the things that make you panic and you wonât panic. And then he spent three years wondering why everyone found that so hard to understand. All he was doing was living instead of dying. Some people get cancer. Some people get crazy. Nobody tries to take the chemo away.
Solomon was born and will, in all likelihood, die in Upland, California. Upland is a suburb of Los Angeles, just about an hour east of downtown. Itâs in a part of the state they call the Inland Empire, which really floats Solomonâs boat because it sounds like something from Star Trek, which is a television show he knows far too much about.
His parents, Jason and Valerie, donât know too much about Star Trek, despite their sonâs insistence that itâs a brilliant exploration of humanity. It makes him happy, though, so theyâll watch an episode with him every now and then. They even ask questions about the characters from time to time just so they can see that excited look he gets.
Valerie Reed is a dentist with her own practice in Upland, and Jason builds movie sets on a studio lot in Burbank. Youâd think this would lead to some great stories from work, but Jasonâs the kind of guy who thinks Dermot Mulroney and Dylan McDermott are interchangeable, so most of his celebrity sightings canât be trusted.
A week after he turned sixteen, Solomon was growing impatient as his dad tried to tell him about an actor heâd seen on set earlier that day.
âYou know…the guy with the mustache. From the show…the show with the theme song…â
âThatâs every show on TV, Dad.â
âOh, you know the guy. The gun guy!â
âThe gun guy? What does that even mean?â
âThe guy. He holds the gun in the opening thing. I know you know the guy.â
âI donât know. Hawaii Five-O?â
âThatâs a movie, not an actor,â his dad said.
âItâs a television show. How can you work in Hollywood?â
âYou get your schoolwork done today?â Solomonâs mom asked as she walked into the living room.
âThis morning. How was work?â
âI got a new patient today.â
âKeep bringing in those big bucks!â his dad joked.
Nobody laughed.
âShe says she went to Upland Junior High. Lisa Praytor? Does that ring a bell?â
âNope,â Solomon replied.
âNice girl. Beautiful molars. But sheâs going to need to get those wisdom teeth out in a year or two or sheâll have to get
braces all over again.â
âDid you have braces?â Solomon asked.
âHeadgear. It was awful.â
âOh, it all makes sense now. You want to put others through the torture of your childhood.â
âDonât analyze me.â
âSolomon, stop analyzing your mother,â his dad said from behind a book, one of those creepy mystery novels he was always reading.
âAnyway, sheâs a nice girl. Pretty too. Only one cavity.â
Solomon knew good and well what was going on. His mom was doing that thing she did where she thought talking about some pretty girl would suddenly cure her son and have him walking right out the front door and straight to high school. It was innocent enough, but he hoped she wasnât actually that desperate for him to change. Because, if she was, then wouldnât these little moments, built up over time, eventually collapse into a mess?
Heâd heard their conversations about him a few times. When he was ten he learned that if he held a plastic cup against his bedroom wall, he could hear everything his parents were saying in their bedroom. The last time he listened was when his mom asked his dad if they were going to be âstuck with him forever.â After she said it, he didnât hear anything for a while. Then he realized it was because sheâd started crying as soon as the words left her mouth. Hours later, Solomon was still awake wondering how to answer his motherâs question. He eventually decided on a hard yes.
Â
TWO
LISA PRAYTOR
Sometimes life just hands you the lemonade, straight up in a chilled glass with a little slice of lemon on top. For Lisa Praytor, junior and straight-A student at Upland High, meeting Solomon Reedâs mother was that glass of lemonade. And it was going to change her life.
You may have known a Lisa Praytor at some point. She was the girl sitting at the front of your classroom, raising her hand to answer every single question the teacher asked. She stayed after school to work on the yearbook and as soon as she got home, she dove headfirst into her homework.
Sheâd always been one to keep a packed schedule, choosing at age eleven to live by the words of her great-aunt Dolores, who said, âNot a day on your calendar should ever be empty. Itâs bad luck. Twenty-four hours of wasted opportunity.â
Not even an offer from her boyfriend to drive to the coast and watch the sunset could tempt her off schedule. And Clark Robbins was the kind of guy who asked her to do things like that all the time. He was handsome without being threatening, and his tree-bark brown hair parted in a way that was particularly appealing to Lisa. On the day that Lisa met Solomonâs mom, sheâd been dating Clark for a year and seventeen days. She had it marked on her calendar for proof.
During eighth grade, after a seventh grader had an episode in front of the school, Lisa wrote an op-ed piece for the Upland Junior High Register to defend the boyâa scathing essay on the importance of empathy. It didnât go over well with her classmates and until the end of the year, rumors swirled around that Lisa was secretly dating the crazy kid who jumped into the fountain.
Had it not been for the student body of nearly one thousand at Upland Junior High, Lisa may not have been able to escape her failed attempt at heroism when she got to high school. She did, though, and most of her friends and classmates eventually forgot about it altogether.
But not Lisa. Sheâd seen him that dayâthis skinny little guy with messy hair taking his shirt off and dropping his pants and walking that slow, quiet walk toward the water. She never knew him, really, but sheâd always thought he looked nice, like the kind of guy whoâd hold a door open for someone else without a thought. And sheâd always hoped that someday sheâd see him again or, at the very least, hear that he was doing okay.
Then one day, Lisa saw an advertisement for Valerie Reedâs dental practice in the local newspaper. It took one Internet search to confirm that this was Solomonâs mother. Sheâd never really been looking for the fountain kid, despite thinking about him from time to time and wondering where heâd ended up. But the second she realized sheâd found him, she knew she had to get to him as soon as possible. And the only way to do that was to make an appointment with his mom. At the very least, Lisa would get a nice teeth cleaning and a free toothbrush. At the very best, sheâd make all her dreams come true.
âSo, where do you go to school?â Dr. Valerie Reed asked as she sat down to examine Lisaâs teeth. It was March twenty-fourth, a Tuesday, and Lisa was having a really hard time not asking a million questions about Solomon.
âUpland High. Are you Solomonâs mother?â
âYes,â she answered, slightly taken aback.
âI went to junior high with him. His pictureâs on the wall,â she smiled, pointing across the room to a photograph of Valerie, Jason, and Solomon hanging by the window.
âYou knew him?â Valerie asked.
âKnew him?â Lisa asked. âOh! Did he … ?â
âNo. God no. Sorry,â Valerie said. âHe just doesnât get out much.â
âPrivate school? Western Christian?â
âHeâs homeschooled.â
âYou do that and this?â Lisa asked.
âItâs all online. Okay, lean back for me. Open wide.â
âI was there you know,â Lisa said, sitting straight up.
âWhere?â Dr. Reed asked. She was beginning to look a little frustrated.
âThat morning. I saw your son … I saw his incident.â
âIt was a panic attack,â she said. âCan I get a look at those teeth now?â
âJust one more thing,â Lisa said.
âGo on.â
âWhy doesnât he get out much?â
Dr. Reed stared down at her in silence, her mouth covered with a blue paper mask, but her eyes searching for the right answer. And just when she went to speak, Lisa interrupted her.
âItâs just … no oneâs seen him in so long. He was there and then he wasnât. Itâs strange is all. I thought maybe he went off to boarding school or something.â
âHe made it one day at Western Christian. What do you do if your kid wonât leave the house?â
âHomeschool him?â
âIt was our only option. Open wide.â
As soon as Dr. Reed was done, Lisa picked right back up where sheâd left off, not even waiting for her chair to be all the way upright again.
âWhen was the last time he left the house?â
âYou sure are inquisitive, arenât you?â
âIâm sorry. Gosh, Iâm so sorry. I never meant to be nosy. Iâve just thought a lot about him over the last few years and when I realized you were his mom, I guess I got too excited.â
âItâs okay,â she said. âIâm just glad somebody remembers him. Itâs been three years. A little over, actually.â
âIs he okay?â
âMostly, yeah. We make it work.â
âMust get lonely,â Lisa said.
âYouâd think that, yes.â
âDoes he have any friends?â
âNot anymore. Used to though. You guys all grow up so fast. He just couldnât keep up.â
âCan you tell him I say hello? I doubt heâll know who I am, but just, you know, if itâs not weird.â
âIâll tell him, Lisa. And Iâll see you next Tuesday to get this cavity fixed up.â
Lying to adults was a little easier for Lisa than lying to her peers. Just like herself, none of her friends or classmates really trusted anyone, so lying was hard to get away with. But take someone like Valerie Reed, DDS, probably born in the late seventies to Southern California liberals, and youâve got an easy targetâsomeone who wants to trust everyone so much that they donât see a lie when itâs slapping them right in the face.
In the grand scheme of things, Lisa knew it was harmless, a necessary step in taking her master plan from concept to actuality. And what a plan it was.
She was going to fix Solomon Reed.
Her life depended on it.