Inside the Mind of Gideon Rayburn (19 page)

_{and the other one dies}

It's a little cold out the next day while Gid walks to Spanish. Liam is not with him. Abruptly, they no longer accompany
each other, but Gideon knows the desertion is his doing, not Liam's. Company would be fine, but he does not require
it. His mood is pensive (Molly) mixed with agitated (Pilar). He alternates between trying to convince himself that
Pilars balcony wrangling meant nothing and that he should give up forever with deciding that it meant everything and
that he should devote his life to her. He digs his hands into his pockets, remembering that these are the pants he wore that night with Pilar and that he hasn't worn them since. They are special. And in the right pocket is a thick
square of folded paper. Naturally, Gid's felt his share of thick squares of folded paper. But this precise thickness
and texture he's never felt before. It feels exciting.

It is a note. From Pilar.

Dear Gideon,

I had so much fun sleeping in this bed with you last night. Isn't it weird the way things can work out? Anyway, it is
funny, don't you think, how we met? I think we have a lot of things in common. I feel a little stupid saying it because
you could be like, What would I have in common with her?

This last line blows Gid away. It is so awesome, the idea that he could have an impact on the feelings of a girl
that hot. And that he found this note at this moment
—a moment in which he was about to possibly abandon all hope?

Uh, Gideon...that is every moment. Every other moment that you're not having a romantic fantasy.

My cell phone number is 305-555-5555. Okay? Pilar

Gid sees that he's standing in the middle of the quad, on a path, in everyone's way. The post-lunch foot traffic
parts around him; Gid reads the note again, his heart pounding with anticipation. And a little shame, as he thinks. He
absolutely must get things moving with Molly so he can just start concentrating on Pilar.

Why had he agreed not to sleep with other girls until he slept with Molly?

He has a short memory: It hadn't occurred to him such things could be possible.

I can't help but wonder if such deviousness makes him a bad person. But I think that all people are devious. Is
there any other way to make it through life, given what life presents?

Gid walks into Spanish five minutes late. The entire classroom has been rearranged. As he's slipping into an
empty seat in the front row, Ms. San Video approaches, tapping her acrylic red nail against a pen cap.
"Buenas tardes,
Gideon," she says, and continues on in Spanish, "Have you noticed a change? We have paired off into
groups, and we will all be doing a group project." She puts her hand on Gideon's desk. "Molly said that you spoke
about being partners. And Liam Wu volunteered to join your group. How do you like that?"

Liam? That's bad. Liam shouldn't be allowed near girls that you want or, in this case, must sleep with to win a
bet. Even Ms. San Video's mere mention of his name and the girls in the class are perked up, smiling, preening in his
direction.

Gid sits down with Molly and Liam. Liam's smile is giant and lascivious. He's seen Molly and Gid talking. Gid's
instinct, and one I think he's probably right on, is that Liam wants anything anyone else wants. He better not screw
this up for me, Gid thinks, his eyes narrowing unconsciously.

"Hey," Liam says, breaking in, "why are you giving me a dirty look?"

"Sorry." Gideon blinks a few times. "I, uh, was just thinking about something else." And then he forces himself
to look at Molly, right at her, for three full seconds. This is a campaign, he reminds himself as he wants to break his
gaze. You show up every day and work until you win, and now, especially that you have that note from Pilar, you have
to make it your number one priority, every day. Molly reddens slightly. It's almost embarrassing, Gideon thinks, how
well it works, just pouring on the intensity a little.

Intensity! Gid, you are sixteen. But the thing is that he is intense. It's just that he's only recently learning what to
do with it.

"I think," Liam says, looking from Molly to Gid with a smug smile, as if in the entire history of class projects, no
one has ever thought of such a thing, "that the three of us should put on a play."

"A play?" Gid says slowly. "That seems kind of hard." What he doesn't say is, You don't have to be a genius to
know what generally happens in a play. One guy gets the girl. And the other guy dies. Plus, God...Gid must be a
terrible actor. He can barely even lie.

"Not a long play," Liam says. "Just a one-act."

"A one-act?" Molly says. She lets the cardigan sweater she's been wearing fall off her shoulders. Liam immediately registers the presence of her bare skin. His eyes take on a predatory glaze. "That sounds doable."
Molly nods.

"Doable," Liam repeats, still staring at Molly. "Definitely." He raises an eyebrow at Gideon, trying to share this
joke with him. Gid won't share. "Ms. San Video suggested it."

"Whatever," Molly says. "It's all bullshit. Meredith and Yvonne are repainting
Guernica
with finger paints. And
Richard Mass and Dan Drury are building a diorama of a prison cell in the Inquisition."

"Ms. San Video told them their idea was brilliant," Liam says. Let's take a moment to feel sorry for Ms. San
Video. A beautiful cosmopolitan South American woman stuck in a staid suburb, surrounded by giggling
sixteen-year-olds just counting the minutes until they can smoke pot again.

"So I guess the famous Midvale rigor doesn't apply here," Molly says. "Let's just get it over with and get A's and
go to the colleges of our choice."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Liam says, looking at Molly longer than necessary, letting his eyes not so
casually linger on her chest. Which is small. But is still a chest. For guys, there is always something to see.

There is no doubt in Gid's mind that Liam wants Molly now. Not really. But preemptively. Yep. He's still looking at her, with those crazy almond-shaped blue eyes, those sparkling incisors. Oh, this is not fair.

"Okay," Ms. San Video is saying. "If you want to go to the library and get started, I will let you out a few minutes
early."

"Well." Liam stands up. "i guess if no one has any objections, I'll go look into some drama en
espanoll
Do you
want to come?" he asks, turning in such a way that the question is clearly directed at Molly.

This is when Gid sees evidence of what he was worried about that night outside the dining hall. Molly's brown
eyes actually get kind of starry. They get kind of
moist.
She looks down to hide the blush seeping across her face.

"Sorry," Molly mutters, still unable to meet Liam's eyes. "I always have lunch with Edie after this class."

Thank fucking God for that little weirdo! Gid wants to scream.

But Molly watches Liam walk away. Not the way a guy would watch a girl walk away. Not the way a dog looks at
a wet bowl of Alpo. But almost.

As soon as he's gone, she puts her sweater back on. Gid's paranoid now. Did she have it off for Liam? His
mind races for a compliment. He's got to take advantage of every moment.

"You have nice arms," Gid says, as he realizes he has been looking at them, admiring the firm, small muscle of
her bicep, the shadow of her tricep. Then he looks at the floor. Why did he say that? She's going to think he's some

kind of arm freak.

But instead she says, "You have nice arms too."

"Really?" He holds his arms out and looks at them.

"Too bad you're wearing a long-sleeved shirt," Molly says. "You can look at them later."

Gid blushes. He actually held out his arms and looked at them. I would be embarrassed too.

"Anyway," Molly says, "should we go help Liam? I have a lot of other work to do and am more than happy to let
him run the show, but if you by any chance have some pre-1945 Spanish one-act you've always been dying to
stage, now is your chance." She smiles.

"The only thing I've ever seen in Spanish was
Selena"
Gid says.

"You are so hopelessly suburban," Molly says. "You know that, don't you?"

"I guess I do," he says. "I guess that's my whole problem."

That's part of your problem. Your other problem, for the moment, is Liam.

That night, Gideon's finishing his dinner when Liam struts up to him, a paperback curled in one hand.

Why do guys who think they're cool always have to hold books that way?

After sharing his little handshake with everyone, he sets the book down on the table. It's actually a play.
"El
Perro que
Comparf/mos/'Cullen reads aloud. "The Pear in the Compartment?"

"Okay, douche, it's called another language." Liam swats Cullen on the head. "It's
The Dog That We Shared.
It's
a play about a couple breaking up, and their dog is in the room."

"Oh, silly me." Cullen stands up. "Here I thought it was a high-stakes caper about produce packaging. I'm out of
here. Nicholas, you coming?"

Nicholas, deeply ensconced in an organic chemistry textbook, shakes his head.

"So, dude," Liam says to Gid, "I really want you to read this. It's awesome! Ms. San Video is going to love it."

Liam makes a beeline for the cranberry juice machine, and Gid flips through the play for a minute.

"Hey," he whispers to Nicholas, "I'm only skimming, but I gotta say...this play seems kind of perverse...or
perverted. And you know that we're in it with..." He lowers his whisper to a mere breath, "Molly."

Nicholas puts down his textbook. "I feel bad for you," he says, sounding truly sincere. Gid lets his gaze settle for a moment in Nicholas's blue eyes, seeking out and finding what he thinks is some real softness. However, all
Nicholas has to add is "Perverse and perverted are the same thing." Then he goes back to his book.

Gid begins to read in earnest. By the time Liam returns, standing over Gid, grinning broadly and crunching on
an apple, Gid's perspiring a bit. I don't blame him. This play's not just about a couple breaking up with their dog in the

room, it's about a couple alternately breaking up and making out, with their dog in the room.

The stage directions read
Lucia y Oscar se besan con fuerte pasion,
or "Lucia and Oscar kiss with fierce passion," more times than Gid cares to count. The dog does not have any lines. In most circumstances, Gideon
would lobby hard for the part of the dog. This is not most circumstances.

When Gid finishes, to the never-ending tune of [Jam's self-satisfied apple crunching over his shoulder, he has
no idea what to say. Nicholas flips through some photos in the back pages of the text, taken at the Teatro
Experimental in Barcelona in 1967 and depicting the original cast of three. A petite, serious-looking woman with a
dark bun at the nape of her neck embraces a short, bearded man around his waist. At her feet, another man lies on
his side, his hands and feet bare, his knees curled into his chest. He's dressed, like the man in the couple, in a dark
three-piece suit, but he's wearing a plastic dog snout

"So," Nicholas says to Liam, "how are you going to decide who plays who?"

Liam crosses his arms over his chest and sits back with practiced casualness. "Good question, bro. Got any
preference? How should we handle this?"

Gid hesitates. This is a risky move. It could, very easily, blow up in his face. But if things go in his favor, it could
prove to have been his best move yet.

"Molly McGarry," Gid says. "She's the one who's in the play. So let her pick her leading man."

Liam reassumes his arms-crossed, casual, it's-all-good stance. "Lady's choice," he says. "Sounds like a plan,
i brought Molly a copy of the play earlier. She suggested we meet tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" Gideon thinks this can't be great news.

"Guess she's eager to get to it," Liam says. "And you know, we are on a bit of a deadline. It's the end of the
first week of October. And we're doing the play right after Halloween."

Gideon has a paranoid fantasy that Cullen's having an affair with Ms. San Video, and he told her about the bet
and she arranged to put him together with Molly. He knows deep down it's ridiculous. Not the Cullen sleeping with Ms.
San Video part. That's totally possible. But he would never tell her about the bet. Cullen's sense of decency is
warped, but it does exist.