Will Grayson, Will Grayson(54)
Author: John Green

Also, the Phil Wrayson costume is excellent as is, but it’d be even better if we had some Will Graysonish clothes for Gary to wear.

Furthermore, I thought I would have time to make a preshow mix in which the odd-numbered tracks are punk rock and the even-numbered tracks are from musicals. I will not, in fact, have time to do this; if you do, it would be truly fabulous.

You are a cute couple, and it was my distinct pleasure to set you up, and I do not in any way resent either of you for failing to have thanked me for making your love possible.

I remain . . .

Your faithful matchmaker and servant . . .

Toiling alone and newly single in an ocean of pain so that some light may be brought into your lives . . . Tiny Cooper

I laugh while I read it, and Tiny laughs, too, nodding his head, appreciating his own awesome.

“I’m sorry about the other Will Grayson,” I say.

His smile folds in upon itself. His response seems directed more toward my namesake than me. “There’s never been anybody like him.”

I don’t trust the words as he says them, but then he exhales through pursed lips, his sad eyes squinting at the distance, and I believe him.

“I should probably get started on this, eh? Thanks for the backstage invite.”

He gets up and starts nodding like he sometimes does, the repetitive nodding that tells me he’s convincing himself of something. “Yeah, I should get back to infuriating the cast and crew with my tyrannical direction.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I say.

“And all the other days,” he says, patting me too hard between the shoulder blades.

Chapter eighteen

I start holding my breath. not like you do when you pass a graveyard or something like that. no. i’m trying to see how long i can do it before i pass out or die. it’s a really convenient pastime – you can do it pretty much anywhere. class. lunch. at the urinal. in the discomfort of your own room.

the sucky part is that the moment always comes when i take the next breath. i can only push myself so far.

I’ve given up on hearing from tiny. i hurt him, he hates me – it’s as simple as that. and now that he’s not texting me, i realize that no one else texts me. or messages me. or cares.

now that he isn’t into me, i realize that no one else is all that into me, either.

okay, so there’s gideon. he’s not much of a texter or a messager, but when we’re at school, he’s always asking me how things are going. and i always stop not-breathing in order to answer him. sometimes i even tell the truth.

me: seriously, is this what the rest of my life is going to be? i don’t think i signed up for this.

I know it sounds like teenage idiocy – the needles! in my heart! and my eyes! – but the pattern seems inescapable. i am never going to get better at being a good person. i am always going to be the blood and shit of things.

gideon: just breathe.

and i wonder how he knows to say that.

the only time that i pretend i have it all together is when maura’s around. i don’t want her to see me falling apart. worst case scenario: she stomps on all the pieces. worse-than-that case scenario: she tries to put them together again. i realize: i am now where she was with me. on the other side of the silence. you’d think that silence would be peaceful. but really, it’s painful.

at home, mom is keeping close watch on me. which makes me feel worse, because now i’m putting her through it, too.

that night – the night i screwed everything up with tiny

– she hid the glass bowl he gave her. while i was asleep, she put it away. and the stupid thing was, when i saw it was gone, the first thing i thought was that she was afraid i’d smash it. then i realized she was only trying to protect me from seeing it, from getting upset.

at school, i ask gideon

me: why is it upset? shouldn’t it be downset?

gideon: i will file a lawsuit against the dictionaries first thing tomorrow morning. we’re going to tear merriam a new ass**le and throw webster inside of it.

me: you are such a dork.

gideon: only if you catch me on a good day.

I don’t tell gideon that i feel guilty being around him. because what if the threat tiny felt turns out to be true? what if i was cheating on him without knowing it?

me: can you cheat on someone without knowing it?

I am not asking gideon this. i am asking my mother.

she has been so careful with me. she has been tiptoeing around my moods, acting like everything’s okay. but now she just freezes.

mom: why are you asking me that? did you cheat on tiny?

and i’m thinking, oh shit, i should not have asked that question.

me: no. i didn’t. why are you so mad?

mom: nothing.

me: no, why? did dad cheat on you?

she shakes her head.

me: did you cheat on dad?

she sighs.

mom: no. it’s not that. it’s . . . i don’t want you to ever be a cheater. not on people. sometimes it’s okay to cheat on things – but don’t ever cheat on people. because once you start, it’s very hard to stop. you find out how easy it is to do.

me: mom?

mom: that’s all. why are you asking?

me: no reason. just wondering.

I’ve been wondering a lot lately. sometimes, when i’m passing the minute mark on holding my breath, besides imagining being dead, i’m also imagining what tiny is doing. sometimes i picture the other will grayson there. most of the time, they’re onstage. but i can never understand what they’re singing.

and the weird thing is, i’m thinking about isaac again. and maura. and how weird it is that it was a lie that made me happiest.

tiny doesn’t respond to any of my instant messages. then, the night before the musical, i decide to type in the other will grayson’s screenname. and there he is. it’s not like i think he’ll completely understand. yeah, we have the same name, but it’s not like we’re psychic twins. it’s not like he’ll wince in pain if i burn myself or anything. but that one night in chicago, i felt he understood a little of it. and, yeah, i also want to see if tiny’s okay.

willupleasebequiet: hey

willupleasebequiet: it’s will grayson.

willupleasebequiet: the other one.

WGrayson7: wow. hello.

willupleasebequiet: is this okay? me talking to you.

WGrayson7: yeah. what are you doing up at 1:33:48?

willupleasebequiet: waiting to see if 1:33:49 is any better. you?

WGrayson7: if i’m not mistaken, i just saw, via webcam, a revised musical number that involved oscar wilde’s ghost, live from the bedroom of the musical’s