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Dream Paralysis
Volume 2 Chapter 4 - III

Volume 2 Chapter 4 - III

“Okay Tristan, I have to ask. Did you or did you not go easy on Ben this morning?”

I was seated courtside on the gym bench when Lawrence Young, having invited me to sit in for basketball practice, posed me the question. A small towel hung off his shoulders around his neck as he adjusted his basketball shorts by the hem. It was my first time inspecting him this closely. Despite his lean build, I found the thickness of his muscles to be impressive even in the shadows of Benjamin’s daunting figure.

His bulging arms poked out of the purple Deer Valley High basketball vest with the number 12 printed in red that he’d been wearing. A part of me suddenly felt self-conscious about my lanky build. I was confident in my legs thanks to my biking routine, but my arms weren’t even in the same ballpark as this guy’s. But there was also a small part of me that admired the dedication that went into sculpting that body of his. It was inspiring to know that I could chisel out that kind of figure for myself with enough effort.

As for what he was asking about, the principal had in fact called me into his office to give my accounting of what occurred at the mall on Saturday. Giving him enough information to help Ben avoid expulsion while not contradicting whatever the others had probably said was something I struggled to navigate, but I did decide on a path forward eventually.

“Hey, you gonna answer today or what?” he asked again.

“All I did was say I’d instigated it, and that he wasn’t really at fault,” I said. “It’s not like I lied.”

Though I had answered his question, my eyes were solely focused on Warren, who was trying to put a stop to an offensive play in a 3v3 basketball match. His opponent, a student who couldn’t have been older than 15, held the ball beneath the shadow of the player before him. Warren’s monstrous six-foot-tall frame made it basically impossible to take a shot over his head, so the younger boy’s eyes were searching for a way around him. However, before he could come up with a play, Warren, as if smelling the indecision wafting from the boy’s body, reached out with lightning reflexes and tipped the ball out of his grip, then dashed past him to collect his prize.

“I guess you technically didn’t lie,” Lawrence finally said. “But no one would have blamed you if you’d just told it plainly. Actually, I’d go as far as to say that you have no pride as a man for letting him get off scot-free after walking all over you.”

“So, is that what you wanted? For your friend to be expelled?”

Lawrence glanced down at his feet. “Obviously not, but we’re talking about pride here.”

“Well I’m not, and I didn’t want him to be expelled either. He’s not my friend, but I do feel like I’ve wronged him somehow. No, it’s not just me. All of you, all of his friends have wronged him, and have wronged Gwen too. I think he deserves another chance, and I think you guys deserve a chance at being better friends to the both of them.”

Lawrence held his tongue. My words were aggressive, so I’m sure he wanted nothing more than to fire back. But it seemed like my act of saving Ben had prevented him from being too harsh. He eventually sat onto the bench next to me with a sigh.

“We put in some good words for you too, by the way. That’s why you’re not suspended right now,” he said.

“I figured. Thanks.”

His pouty expression didn’t seem to ease up over my gratitude. He must not have liked how monotonous I was being. Perhaps he thought I wasn’t genuine? It’s not like I was trying to be this glum about it.

“Okay, listen Tris. Can I call you Tris? Here’s the honest to God truth: I don’t want you to think of me as a bad guy. I really am sorry about how things went on Saturday. The bruise on your face is like a reminder of just how much I messed up back then. And yeah, I’m thankful that you went easy on Ben today.” He sighed. “Since you’ve given us this second chance, we’re going to use it to be better friends to Ben. He needs help, yeah. I’m not gonna pretend that we didn’t know it, because we did. But you also didn’t deserve what he did to you.”

“Why didn’t you do anything then?” I asked.

“He’s scary, man.” His voice shook as he said it. “I don’t think anyone wanted to deal with that guy’s tantrums. I mean, he’s nice when he’s chill. He’s a great guy to have in your corner too. But when he’s angry he’s like… I dunno. Maybe that’s just an excuse anyway. I guess none of us ever really gave it a serious try. You know, the whole friendship thing. We just let things happen and they slowly got worse and worse, because we’re all secretly hoping that it magically gets better without us having to cause any friction on our own.”

“I get that.”

That’s how most of us handle our relationships, after all. I never approached Zoey, Naomi never tried to fix things with Lance, and Gwen prayed that things would get better with Ben. We all kind of just stand idly by as the river of time continues to carry us down, hoping that it changes its course without us having to lift a finger.

“But no more,” Lawrence said. “If he can’t handle the criticism, then he can find some new friends. It’s not like I need to appease him for the team’s sake anymore.”

Indeed, it wasn’t just about their friend group. The strength of the basketball team was something they’d all built together. Through rigorous training, weeks and months of brainstorming and years of building camaraderie, they had created a powerful team that was the bane of every high school in Georgia. Of course, Law wouldn’t want to risk shattering that beautiful thing they’d spent years on with his criticism. And yet, as if karma were directly answering his indecision, the team was shattered anyway. The Georgia season begins in two weeks, and Ben’s been indefinitely barred from competing with the club, leaving them without their main scorer.

My eyes were once again focused on Warren’s mesmerizing basketball play as the number 22 on his jersey blurred past the other students. I did not have it in me to draw my eyes away from his footwork. It was like a well-choreographed dance, the way his feet feinted movements and allowed him to bob around other students. It wasn’t just his spatial awareness that impressed me. Watching him honestly gave me the impression that he knew the future too. He seemed to be predicting where each opponent was going to be and moving with that knowledge in mind. Was he always this good at basketball? I had never really watched the games before, so I had no idea.

“He’s an incredible point guard, you know,” Lawrence said, staring at Warren. “No one can get past him, and no one can stop him when he’s on a roll. People talk about Ben a lot because he’s put up a few 60-point games, but the real beating heart of the team is Warren.”

“Then, shouldn’t you guys be fine without Ben?”

“Nope. He has a single big weakness. He’s absolutely terrible at scoring points.”

As Lawrence said that, Warren’s tall frame sprung back as he threw up an uncontested two-pointer that completely whiffed the basket. The spell his play had cast on me was broken in just one terrible shot.

“We’ve been trying to get him to practice, but he said it’s a waste of time. He’d rather just focus on getting the ball onto their side of the court. If he weren’t so damn good at it, he’d be on the bench in no time with that flawed attitude of his. But the truth is, he’s an indispensable part of both our offense and defense. He’s proven himself worthy of being a starter more than ten times over.”

The opposing side was running a play towards Warren’s side of the court. It was a quick offense with little room for reaction. Warren’s two other teammates had already backed up to their side of the court, but he stood in the middle as his eyes jerked between the two possible passes that his opponent in the middle could have made. Seeming to have a read, his eyes focusing more on the boy to the right of him. His opponent dribbled once and took a step forward to make the pass towards the exact same student that Warren had been eyeing.

Warren thus reacted and shifted his weight to his right to intercept. What he didn’t seem to anticipate, however, was the possibility that the move was a feint. The boy swerved to his own right, dribbling the ball over from his left to his dominant hand, and shot straight past Warren.

The determination in his eyes was apparent, and he seemed proud of his tricky play. But what he hadn’t realized was that Warren hadn’t actually taken so much as a single step forward. His left hand was stretched forward as the ball switched between the other boy’s hands, sinking into Warren’s large grasp as if it had been magnetized.

“Woah,” I said without realizing it. To stop the ball in place and grab it required a level of timing, grip strength and reflexes that I could only dream of having. But what’s more impressive was that he trusted his steal so much that he had already shot past all three players and made his way to the basket to dunk the ball in.

“He’s good at dunking though.” Lawrence smiled.

“Dunking’s awesome,” I said.

“Yeah, but you can’t just dunk when there’s too many people on you. Not that it mattered, since our opponents couldn’t possibly block out both Ben and Warren.”

“They must have really trusted each other then,” I said.

“Yeah.”

He had so much faith in Ben’s scoring ability that he put all of his time into specializing in reading player habits and perfecting his own movement. All of that faith in Ben’s basketball ability, and yet none in his ability to take feedback. Perhaps Ben had just let him down too many times. The guy was as hard-headed as a bull, so I kind of understood how things could have turned out that way. But maybe now that he’s been humbled by all of this then he’ll be more malleable to criticism. Though with him being barred from the team, it might have been too late for that.

“Can I ask you something about Saturday Tris?” Lawrence asked.

“Feel free to.”

“Do you know what’s up with Gwen?”

I blinked. “Weren’t we talking about Ben?”

“Well, it’s kinda related. The thing is, they actually broke up on Saturday.”

“Oh.”

I pretended to be surprised. After everything that happened at ‘The Cage’, it was expected, but I didn’t realize that she had already done it. Was it when they spoke near his car? Or did she call him after everything was done?

“You’re the last person who’s even heard from her since everything happened. All I got was a call that barely lasted five seconds. Penny and Warren haven’t heard a thing since either. And since she hasn’t shown up to school today, we’ve all just… been a little worried.”

I didn’t know the guy too well, but judging by everything that’s happened between Saturday and what he’s told me so far, he genuinely seems to care about how Gwen is doing. Had he been a little hands-off with Ben’s terrible personality? Absolutely. But that didn’t mean that he meant Gwen any harm.

“If I had to guess, she’s probably doing better now than she was two weeks ago,” I said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that time is finally going to start moving for her again.”

Lawrence’s expression went from unease and worry to softening into relief in the span of just a few seconds. That’s what I thought. He did care about her. That was the kind of person he had a reputation for being. The Law, fair and kind to all in his judgments. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder about the other half of his reputation. Was he just trying to sneak in now that Ben had finally lost his grip on her? Something inside of me was pushing me forward. A question I’d normally avoid asking so candidly.

And yet...

“Do you like her?” I asked.

“Huh? Like her? Where’d that come from?”

“You just seem to care about her a lot, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well yeah. I do care about her. She’s my friend.” He leaned back onto the elevated seat behind us. “Would I fuck her? Absolutely, man. She’s banging hot. But do I LIKE her? Probably not. I don’t really believe in that love stuff.”

“I believe in it, though,” I said.

“Some people believe the earth is flat. I say, to each their own.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard about his agnosticism towards romance. But unlike back then, his denial of love didn’t baffle me. Rather, it sparked my curiosity. There was something there, I realized. How could I not have seen it when he mentioned this before? He’s clearly burying something.

“Do you love your parents, Lawrence?” I asked.

“What? That’s a weird question. I mean, of course I do. But when I say it doesn’t exist I’m talking about it in like, a romantic sense.”

“I don’t think that kind of love is all that different from romantic love.”

“Woah, that’s creepy.”

“Is it? Liking someone so much that you’d die for them is love. I don’t think that whether you’d have sex with them or not should preclude you from that.”

“… You sound like someone really annoying right now.”

He frowned and turned away. I sounded like someone annoying? Who could he have been referring to, I wonder? His sister, maybe? Is it because of the hack on Sunday?

“I mean isn’t that love?” I continued. “Like Jesus Christ dying on the cross to absolve humanity of their sins? It might not be romantic, but isn’t that kind of sacrifice the epitome of loving someone else?”

“This is so creepy…”

Lawrence genuinely looked as if he was about to throw up. I was just testing it, but it seems like I was on the mark. The similarities were too much for him to handle. Indeed. If he felt this way about it, then I really have become Laura Young. Although, I had already gathered as much.

On my bike ride this morning, I did something that might have been a little out of character. Usually, I found spending time with my dad to be kind of a chore. It’s not that I hated him, otherwise I probably wouldn’t do it at all. It’s more-so that I’d rather be doing other things in the morning than riding a bike around. But this morning, I felt an abundance of love swelling inside of me. So much so that it needed to be let out into the world before I exploded.

“I’m really glad I get to ride with you every day, Dad.”

I didn’t even stop to think about the words coming out of my mouth. They poured out as naturally as a coursing river on a bright summer day. Gushing with gratitude for the ecosystem that had sustained its existence for such a long time. At first, he was so surprised at my outburst that he stood there gaping at me for a few seconds. But just as quickly as I’d said it, his eyes softened, and his pearly whites emerged from their hole. “Thanks son. I’m happy to be here with you too.”

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“So, what about you?”

Lawrence’s words snapped me back to reality.

“What about me?”

“Yeah. Do you like Gwen?”

“I do, but not romantically.” Not that I knew of, anyway.

“Not like that? How do you like her then?”

“I guess we’re pretty similar in a lot of ways. I like her as someone who understands what I’m going through.”

“Yikes, similar to a girl? Couldn’t be me. Hey, you do you though.” Lawrence grinned to himself as if he’d said something clever then thought to himself for a moment. “Then what about Zoey? Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I do.”

For some reason, I answered the question without hesitation. Laura’s personality seemed to have no qualms about being earnest with her feelings.

“Oof, double yikes. Yeah, you should probably just give up on that one. That chick is not worth it.”

“You think so?”

“Zoey? Nah man. She’s a babe, don’t get me wrong. But there’s some red flags that you need to learn to spot if you’re gonna start looking for girls. She’s never dated anyone at school, for example. Like, for someone with as many opportunities as her, isn’t that kinda weird? At this point I’m convinced that she’s either asexual or into other chicks. I dunno. No straight, healthy teenage girl should be dodging the opposite sex as much as she is. There’s something going on there. Plus…” Lawrence looked as if he was about to say something, but he held his tongue. “Anyway, my point is, you should probably give up and try for someone else.”

“Yeah, Gwen said the same thing to me.”

“Well, she might hate Zoey’s guts even more than I do, but yeah. See? If another girl says it, then you should definitely listen. They have a sixth sense for that stuff. Trust me, she’s not worth it.”

“She also told me to talk to you if I wanted advice on talking to girls.” I recalled our conversation from Saturday. Was this really a good idea? She suggested it, so…

“Oh really? She said that? Aw man.” Lawrence grinned.

“I’m not sure if I’d want to do that though…”

“Whaaat? You should, totally. I think with a little wardrobe change you could get your foot in the door with a lot of chicks. You’ve got like a nice little baby-face thing going.”

My eyes fell down to my feet.

“Yeah, I dunno. I’m just not that interested…”

“Really? Are you a virgin? Oh, I’m not trying to be mean. I’m seriously asking if you’ve ever had sex before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Somehow, I once again felt no shame volunteering that information. Some part of me felt like I’d regret it later, but I was also enjoying the freedom of being open about everything.

“Oh, I think you should try it at least once before you graduate. Having sex at school is fucking awesome. And unless you plan on becoming a teacher and banging a co-worker in Principal Harry’s office, then it’s just never gonna happen again.”

“No, I...”

“Relax, I’m kidding. But yeah, it’s not a problem. I would be down to help you if Gwen suggested it. In fact, why don’t I show you right now?.”

“Show me what?”

“Uh, hmm.” His eyes scanned the courtside. There were a few people hanging out on the bleachers that I could see, but other than that, there wasn’t anything particularly exciting going on. “Okay, see those girls behind me? There’s two of them staring down at their phones.”

I moved my head to look past him.

“Don’t make it too obvious, dude. Just use your eyes.”

“Right.”

Despite my inability to subtly scout his target, neither of them managed to notice me glancing their way despite being only about fifteen feet away. They were both homely girls who didn’t look like they belonged at a basketball game. The girl on the left, with her brown hair twisted into a bun, round glasses hanging onto her nose was, while a little nerdy, quite the attractive face. She wore a casual smile as she sat leaning forward to look at her phone, sitting cross legged in a meditation stance. Her charm may have been how easily approachable she looked with that open and aloof posture of hers.

The other girl, seated to her right, was a little chubbier than the first, but I also found her to be quite attractive. Her legs were folded curtly underneath her red, plaited skirt as she leaned over to stare down into the very same phone. Tucking her short, dyed black hair behind her ear, she let out a soft giggle at whatever it was she was staring down at in her friend’s phone.

“Yeah, what about them?” I asked, returning my attention to Lawrence.

“Well, why don’t you just watch?”

With his hands in his pocket, he kicked off the bench and rose to his feet, rolling his neck with a cocksure grin that you’d expect from someone about to nail a free throw. To him, playing basketball and picking up girls may as well be the same thing. He walked over to where the two girls were seated and sat next to the girl in rounded glasses.

“Hey, do either of you two know when the school play’s gonna be on?”

The two girls looked up from the phone to stare at Lawrence, then turned to each other.

“I don’t think so?”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Huh, really? Aren’t you two in the drama club?”

“Uh, no. We’re in the school band,” glasses said.

He rolled his bangs back and gave them a warm smile. “Oh, that’s my bad then. You’re both so beautiful that I could’ve sworn you were actresses.”

At his sudden words, the two of them went quiet and stared at each other. Their expressions were blank. Had they not even processed his words? Or were they just at a loss as for what to say to him? Either way, if it were me, holding myself steady in the face of that silence would have been impossible. But Lawrence stood his ground and committed. He was fully leaning into his line; despite the empty space it had left in the conversation.

And suddenly, they both burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, who says that? You’re so corny, are you okay?” the short haired girl asked.

“I’m one hundred percent serious. You’re both gorgeous. You’d run laps around any Hollywood actress I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, shut up,” glasses said, still smiling. “You’re such a liar. Does that actually work on anyone?”

At her probing, Lawrence quickly switched up by leaning back slightly, still grinning. “What, you don’t think I’m being serious?”

“Of course not, Lawrence. Everyone knows who you are. You’re going to have to try harder than trashy lines like that.”

“If you’re giving me permission then don’t mind if I do.”

“Oh my god, just let him try,” short hair said, seeming to enjoy the attention. “I think it’d be funny.”

“Okay, okay,” glasses agreed. “Go ahead Lawrence, pick us up then. Make our hearts flutter.”

“Come on, I’m not trying to pick you guys up. I’m genuinely interested in getting to know you.”

“Okay, get to know me then. Ask me something.”

“Sure. What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine?” he leaned forward once more. “Mine is the color of your eyes.”

Short hair smiled while rolling her eyes, and glasses raised an eyebrow. “So… blue?”

“Well look at that. We have so much in common already.”

“Yeah, so much,” short hair and glasses were giggling at how ridiculous the situation was.

“You’re already in love with me, see?”

“Shut up, no we’re not!” short hair said.

“Okay, give me your hand then. I’ll read your fortune.”

“Oh woooow, you’re a fortune-teller too now?” she said, extending her hand.

Lawrence accepted it, holding her with both hands and gently drawing lines on her palm with an intensity that seemed like he really was reading something.

“Oh, there you are. Goddamn, I was looking all over for you dude.” I turned back to the voice and found Lance walking up next to me in a zombie-like state. He might have actually been looking all over for me. I suddenly felt really bad for him. “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“Oh, hey Lance. My phone?”

I reached into my pocket and checked my phone. There was no response when pushing the power button.

“Guess the battery’s dead.”

“What? Remember to charge your shit, dude. How do you even function without your phone?”

“Yeah, that’s my bad.”

He sighed then sat next to me.

“Man, your face looks like shit. That Ben guy deserves a beating of his own. Let’s jump him when he’s back next week.”

“I think I’ll pass on that.”

Lawrence shrugged, then glanced around the court.

“So, what are you up to? Where’s Lawrence?”

“He’s showing me how to pick girls up.”

I turned back to face him and the two girls, and Lance followed my gaze.

“One date, Sarah. It’ll be fun. I’ll even bring a friend for Nina.”

“Is your friend hot?” The short-haired girl, who I assumed was Nina, asked immediately.

“Why don’t you check him out yourself? He’s the bowl-cut guy over there.”

He directed their glances down at Lance and I, and I immediately turned back to face the court so as to not appear to be eavesdropping. Lance didn’t seem to care much though, as he still kept his gaze entirely focused on the three of them.

“Hmm, he looks more like your type, Sarah.”

“Really? But Lawrence said he’s all yours. You should have him.”

“I dunnoooo, he’s definitely your type though? Don’t you really like weird looking guys like that?”

“Oh my god, shut up. I do not. You’re the one who has a thing for skinny dudes.”

“Whaaat? I said lean, not skinny! There’s a difference! Anyway, he’s EASILY, WAY more your type.”

Lawrence had set me up to be the star of a high school girl humiliation ceremony. There he was, illustrating just how insignificant of a man I was, as the two of them showed absolutely zero interest in me as a member of the opposite sex. They were both eagerly clamoring over who would be Lawrence’s date rather than mine.

Of course, it only made sense. How was I expected to compete with a handsome, charismatic, athletic specimen of a man like Lawrence? I’m just Tristan. I can’t even talk to the girl that I like without getting my mind twisted into a pretzel.

“Tristan, man, why are you letting those ugly dykes just walk all over you like that?”

The words ugly and dyke were like gunshots that rang through the gymnasium. Their echo hung in the air and left no room for any other sound to fill the space. It was so sudden that they both stopped talking mid-sentence to look over at him.

“Hey, Lance,” Lawrence said, smiling impatiently. “Aren’t you being a little rude right now?”

“Yeah! What the hell!” Sarah, the glasses girl said. “What did we do anyway?”

“What? You started talking shit first, I’m just keeping the same energy,” Lance said.

“We were not! We didn’t say anything about him!”

Well, they technically didn’t, but only an idiot wouldn’t realize what was being implied from the tone of the conversation. They’d essentially insulted me in a backhanded, playful way, and they kept going in a manner that made me feel like my foot was being stepped on by an indifferent jerk.

“Then how come neither of you wanted to choose him?”

“Well, that’s because… well, I wanted to date Lawrence,” Nina said.

“Yeah! Me too!” Sarah added. “What’s wrong with that? Some people are hotter than others. That’s just how it goes.”

“Okay, but what if both Tristan and Lawrence wanted to date glasses girl instead of the fat one?”

“Wha-” Nina flinched.

“Do not call her fat! What the hell!” Sarah picked it up.

“I’m just saying, they might prefer glasses because of her body type.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Nina yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Let’s go Nina, we don’t need to put up with this little freak.”

Sarah wrapped her arm around her friend and guided her out of the stands and the two of them walked off like wounded animals in the direction of the exit. Lance, still leaning back with his legs crossed, let out a scoff as if they weren’t even worth the trouble.

“Fucking losers, man. All high school girls should be lobotomized, I swear. Something about having a vagina just turns people into sociopaths.”

“Lance, man…” Lawrence sighed.

“What? If you stood up for him then maybe I wouldn’t have had to put those fuckers in their place.”

“Her weight, though?”

“Dude, I don’t give a shit about her weight. She was obviously cute. But if you’re going to talk shit then you’d better be prepared to get shit back. That’s how things work in the real world.”

“I just… never mind.” It seemed like Lawrence was learning firsthand the futility of arguing with Lance.

“You were really good at that,” I said to Lawrence finally, trying to change the subject.

The way he navigated the pressure of being made fun of by two attractive girls and turned it into a fun experience that had them both interested in dating him by the end was impressive. Even I had to acknowledge that. But how was I supposed to emulate a magician’s trick like that?

“So, what do you think? Are you interested in learning how to do it?” Lawrence asked.

“Me? I could do that?”

“I mean, anyone could. What do you think the secret to getting girls to like you is?”

I remembered my dad’s words from a few weeks ago. “Being yourself.”

“Uh, no. That’s probably the worst advice I’ve ever heard. Well, no. I’m sorry. I guess it’s half right. You’re missing about two extra words.”

“Two words?”

“Yeah. It’s not being yourself, but being confident in yourself. Girls won’t like you if you’re a chubby Star Wars fan who can’t even stare them in the face, but that chubby Star Wars fan will have way more success if he carries himself with a ton of confidence. So, there you go. Be confident in yourself.”

“Confidence? That’s it?”

“Yeah. Girls love a guy that looks comfortable in his own skin. Someone who isn’t up his own ass but can stand up for himself and get stuff done. You don’t have to be that person, but you do need to give off the impression that you are.”

What he said did make sense. The things that Gwen found displeasing about me on Saturday compared to at homecoming were all related to my confidence levels. I became unsure of myself after Zoey’s influence wore off, and she sniffed it out in no time at all. Would Zoey really like me if I just became more confident?

“There’s this book I read. It’s called ‘The Secret to Being Admired. It’s by this guy called Jeremy Felix who apparently used to live right here in Deer Valley. Book changed my entire life honestly, it’s like my bible. The book itself is about making friends and being liked by everyone, but you can easily pick chicks up with the wisdom inside of it. I can loan you my copy if you want.”

Who knew picking up girls would require more studying? It seems like you can’t escape it no matter how far away from classes you go.

“I actually came up with a few tips that I give to every guy who wants to learn how to pick up girls. I could share them with you if you want.”

Well, there wasn’t any reason to say no. I was still burned from getting advice from Benjamin, but there was no reason not to hear him out at least. “Sure.”

“Dude,” Lance interrupted. “Are you really going to gloss over them hurting Tristan’s feelings just to teach him how to trick girls into fucking him?”

“What? They didn’t hurt his…”

“Why are you arguing with me? Ask the guy himself whether it’s true or not.”

“Well...” Lawrence scratched the back of his head, seeming to realize that the answer may not be in his favor. “Hey, did they hurt your feelings, Tristan?”

“Not really.”

Lawrence blinked twice, seeming shocked at my denial. “Really? I kinda feel bad about how that went. I’m really sorry if it did.”

“No, it didn’t.”

Maybe two girls my age talking in circles about how unattractive I am compared to other guys my age would have made me feel bad about two weeks ago, but I truly did feel indifferent about it. I’m certain that it was some combination of Laura Young’s influence and the SSRI’s effects, but there really was no problem whatsoever.

“Are you being serious?”

“Well, no one’s a jerk for no reason. I’m sure they have theirs.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that, there’s probably some combination of things gnawing at them on the inside that led to them acting like that. Plus, it’s not like they were actually trying to hurt my feelings, right? They were just being honest.”

“The hell are you on about?” This time, it was Lance who spoke up. “So people like those girls get a pass in your book since, what, they have some kind of sad shonen protagonist backstory? Does everyone get to walk all over you if their life is hard enough?”

“I didn’t say they get a pass. All I said is that it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

I was doing a terrible job of explaining how any of this felt. Partially since these feelings were very new to me so I didn’t fully understand them, but also because, while I had inherited those feelings from Laura, I hadn’t inherited her foundational understanding of the world. It’s like checking the back of your math textbook for the answer. Having it and understanding how you got to that conclusion are two entirely different matters.

“You’re acting weird again, man,” Lance said.

“He’s weird? You’re the one starting stuff with girls. For no reason.”

“Yeah, at least I’m not pulling out the lame manipulator tactics you were bragging about having a while ago just to pick up women. Don’t kid yourself, it’s all pseudo-intellectual garbage. Girls like you because you’re attractive and on the basketball team. Don’t make it more complicated than it is by praising some retarded self-help book.”

“I won’t deny that it helps.” He flicked his bangs as if relishing the compliment. “But that still doesn’t mean that normal people couldn’t pick them up the way I can if they followed the rules of that book. Being admired is an art, you know. And I’ve done this stuff for years, so I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“No offense, but I don’t think tricking girls into making out with you is magic or art or whatever else you wanna call it. I think you’re just a weirdo.”

“You’re the weirdo here. How could you not get it?”

“Oh no, I get it. You’re a loser who knows that having a woman’s attention is the easiest way to get people to respect you. It’s all you’ve got going for you. Tristan said that those girls have reasons for acting the way that they did, but that’s true for you too. You’re using the validation you get about yourself from all these girls to escape some part of yourself that you hate.”

“Hah, now who’s spouting pseudo-intellectual garbage? That doesn’t sound like me at all. I have a great life. My grades are good, I’m captain of the basketball team, and I’m bagging hot girls every week. Are you sure you’re not projecting right now?”

“Oh, I’m projecting? You’re the one trying desperately to convince me about how great your life is.”

Lawrence sighed. “You’re right, I shouldn’t let what you think bother me.” He turned to face the court. “Hey, Warren.”

His locked hair swaying with every step he took while dribbling the ball, Warren turned back to us and made his way over to the bench. “Yo.”

“Am I cool?”

“You’re the coolest, Lawrence.”

“See? Other people think I’m cool. You’re the weirdo here.”

If only I could take a picture of the dumbfounded expression on Lance’s face. Squinting his eyes as if to ascertain whether or not Lawrence was joking.

“Are you retarded?”

“Dude, stop saying that. You can’t say that in the gym,” Lawrence said.

“Holy fuck, everyone in this school is such a pussy.”

“Look. The point is, it doesn’t matter what you think about me,” Lawrence continued. “You’re just one weirdo that no one cares about. What matters is that everyone else thinks I’m cool. Those girls did, Warren does, Ben does…”

“If he respects you then I think he’d have respected you putting your foot down at the mall,” I said.

“Look man, I get it. So can you stop bringing it up?” Lawrence scratched his head. He was clearly down on himself over it. “SPEAKING of which, Naomi also thought I was cool last Saturday.”

“Oh, did she?” Lance glared at him.

“Yeah, we were all over each other on Saturday. Just a guy and a girl, chattin’ it up and getting to know each other. I think I left quite the impression on her; wouldn’t you say Warren?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, see- what?”

“She ignored you the entire time.”

“T-that was only at the beginning though.”

“No, it was pretty much the entire time.”

“I mean, she was paying me some attention.”

“She was only talking to Tristan.”

“DUDE, WARREN! Can you LEARN to LIE for once? I’m trying to get under his skin.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Lance snickered. “Fucking loser.”

“Whatever. I’m still a cool guy. And she’ll see it soon enough. See, here’s what you need to realize Lance. That Naomi chick is actually really cool. And the longer you leave her out near the shore unattended, the sooner the high tide will come by and wash her away.”

“And you’re supposed to be the tide?”

“Why don’t you just wait and see?” Lawrence brushed his bangs to the side then began his unhurried stroll to the changing room. Lance, like a ticking time bomb, sat with an expression that did nothing to hide the turbulence inside of him.

“Tristan.”

“Lance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was hitting on her on Saturday?”

“You and Naomi were fighting so I thought it’d be awkward.”

“Well yeah, but…” He looked like he wanted to protest, but he immediately gave up. “Whatever, just tell me what happened.”