This chapter takes place between "Victor's Other Family" and "Reese Joins the Army Part 1". Malcolm is dejected over losing numerous friendships. His relationship with Angela and her fascinating family didn't work out (and she started dating Stevie), and it turns out his Canadian relatives had no relation to him at all. Plus, Lloyd and Dabney are tired of his growing narcissism and have been avoiding him. In an attempt to make peace, but with undeniable ulterior motives, Malcolm befriends Chase, who just began "going steady" with Cynthia. Things go about as smoothly as you'd expect.

The Rebound

Malcolm sat with his head in his hands as Stevie enthusiastically described his night with Angela's family. Given that their activities were numerous and conversations enduring, the stories tended to go on at considerable length. Factoring the time it took Stevie to breathe, Malcolm would find himself forced to listen for hours.

Normally he was content to allow Stevie to talk at length, as he could divide his attention between multiple things. Writing an entire term paper as Stevie talked about comics or vented about family issues was not uncommon for Malcolm. When it came to Angela, however, Malcolm had no patience.

Over the past few weeks, Malcolm had actually lost two whole families. First, Angela broke up with him. While the two of them never really got to know each other, he'd been invited warmly into the arms of her relatives. Her parents, who were academics and learned in the loftiest subjects, were stimulating and inspiring conversationalists. Her grandparents, aunts, and uncles were a diverse group of deep thinkers and banterers. The whole of them demonstrated an intellectual prowess that up until then he had only fantasized about interacting with. In an instant, it was gone. And now Stevie had it all to himself. Only God knew who would be chosen next.

Then, to make matters worse, he acquired a Canadian family and then lost it in a matter of days. There had been some confusion regarding his mom's parentage, and for a while Malcolm found himself in the company of some seriously hospitable canucks. They were kind, fun, thoughtful, and sincere. Everything his actual family wasn't. Then it turned out they were never related. His conniving grandmother had concocted the whole story in another one of her schemes.

Stevie continued talking enthusiastically.

"And then…

… we played …

… charades."

"Alright, alright! Congratulations, Stevie. You get everything!"

"What's it like …

… to walk?"

Malcolm's expression dropped.

"Sorry. Alright, fine I'm being a jerk."

Malcolm got up from his chair at the desk and flopped down on his bed. Stevie regarded him through coke bottle glasses, offering his trademark receptive look.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's not like I was going anywhere with Angela. I just liked her family. And I liked my fake Canadian family. They were all so nice and smart and interesting and funny and...just great!"

"I know…

… but you can't …

… date a family."

Malcolm looked up wistfully.

"If only there was one person who was all of those things."

Stevie paused and then took a very deep breath, which he did when wanted to be emphatic.

"I wonder …

… who that…

… might be."

Malcolm shrugged.

"It's almost …

… like you know …

… someone …

… like that."

Malcolm looked over to Stevie and smirked.

"Sorry, Stevie. But I only like you as a friend"

Stevie tried not to smile, but couldn't help himself.

"Besides, it's not like that's an option anyway."

"Chase …

… is a …

… rebound."

"Yeah, a rebound from me. Even if they do break up, she's still gonna hate me."

Stevie frowned, unable to refute Malcolm's point. Then, Malcolm looked at Stevie with a new, animated expression.

"Or maybe..."

Stevie braced himself and took a deep breath in.

"What?"

Malcolm got up from his bed and moved over to the desk to be closer to Stevie. He raised his hands in front of him and gestured with them like an advertising exec making a pitch.

"I could just… be nice… to Chase… " Malcolm stretched out these words like he was coining a novel phrase.

"And?

"No, that's it. It's almost like… we'd just be nice to each other?" Malcolm searched for better words.

"You mean…

… friends?"

"Yeah! It's like, I can just be friends with Chase. And then when Chase and Cynthia break up, she'll see how mature I was and give me another chance."

"And you think…

… that would …

… work?"

"Sure, why not? Am I so hard to be friends with?"

Stevie stared silently.

"I can be friendly, jackass!"

Stevie kept staring and Malcolm looked off in thought, then winced.

"What am I gonna do?" Malcolm looked down, and Stevie gave him an awkward pat on the back.

XXXXX

Malcolm went to school that day with a new sense of purpose. His conversation with Stevie stuck with him. Maybe there was some reason that he couldn't get close to people.

Stevie was right. I'm not all that friendly. If I want things to go right, I'll have to learn how.

Down the hall, Malcolm saw Cynthia and Chase talking at her locker.

Here goes nothing.

"Hey," said Malcolm walking up. Chase looked casually at him and nodded, while Cynthia froze, a look of trepidation crossing her face. She hadn't talked to him in weeks.

"Hi," she said.

"So, uh, I was wondering, what are you guys doing for lunch?"

"Eating," said Chase, in a sincere tone.

"Well, yeah obviously you'll be eating. Why would—" Malcolm cut himself off, seeing Cynthia's annoyed expression.

"I'm sorry, yeah. That was a dumb question. I guess I was just...I mean, I'll be eating too. At lunch. Maybe I'll see you there."

Chase cocked an eyebrow but nevertheless flashed his earnest grin. Malcolm looked at Cynthia. Her expression had gone from annoyed to something else, something a little more complex. Sad, but not regretful. His stomach plummeted as he realized it was a look of pity.

"See you later, then," said Chase, putting an arm around Cynthia. She stood still, as if she didn't notice. Malcolm gave a curt nod and then wheeled around, heading to class with his head down.

Cynthia looked at Chase. "Actually, I was going to spend lunch in the library. I thought I'd get a head start on our term paper."

Chase, casually slipping his arm off of her and closing his locker, said, "Whatever's fine." He seemed unfazed by both the awkward encounter with Malcolm and with Cynthia's announcement that she'd be absent for lunch. Something about the latter inexplicably annoyed her.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be a flake, but I really am eager to get started. Herkabe thinks he's punishing us for assigning mesoamerican surgical methods as the topic, but the joke's on him because it happens to be my third favorite ancient science."

"Cool," said Chase. He turned toward Cynthia and suddenly turned on a look of charm. He smiled brightly and relaxed his eyes. "See you later," he said, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

Cynthia flushed a little. "See ya," she replied.

Chase gave an almost imperceptible wink and turned to leave. Cynthia watched him walk down the hallway and turn the corner. Once he was gone, she realized that all that time she'd been watching him, she'd been thinking of something else.

XXXXX

At lunch, Malcolm saw Chase eating by himself. It struck him as a little odd, but he admittedly felt relieved. He hadn't imagined the encounter with Chase and Cynthia would be as awkward as it was, and he'd been replaying it in his mind ever since. Maybe dealing with them one on one would better serve his purposes.

"Hey," said Malcolm nervously. He briefly felt a pang of self-revulsion resulting from his sheepish tone. He sounded as if he were about to ask Chase on a date. Thankfully, Chase made no indication that he'd picked up on Malcolm's nervousness. He looked at Malcolm and popped his head up in a casual nod. Malcolm tried to look confident as he took a seat next to him.

"How's it going?" asked Malcolm.

"It's going," said Chase.

"Cool," said Malcolm. They sat in silence for a few moments. Chase, who usually looked at ease with himself and the people around him, began to appear vaguely uncomfortable, a clear signal that Malcolm's odd desperation was wearing on him. Malcolm scrambled to remedy the situation with a suitable ice-breaker, but his mind could only come up with one subject.

"How's Cynthia?" Malcolm asked, finally.

"She's good." Chase smiled, seemingly relieved that Malcolm had managed to break the silence. Not wanting it to reemerge, Chase continued. "I don't know what she's saying half the time, but that doesn't seem to bother her."

Malcolm smiled. "Yeah. I mean, I guess so." Malcolm quickly combed through his most recent memories of conversations with Cynthia in order to find a relatable example, but couldn't find any. He not only understood Cynthia's ramblings, but he was beginning to miss them. He felt a mild surge of resentment towards Chase, who got to hear those ramblings every day but didn't appreciate them. Malcolm shooed the feeling away, determined to stay true to his mission, which was…

Wait, what am I doing?

Malcolm patted himself on the knee and sighed. "Um, yeah. Well, I gotta go." Malcolm walked away with visible embarrassment, a rapid gait and his arms stiffly at his sides.

That was a good start. You can't force these things.

As he got to the other side of the quad, Malcolm almost ran into Keisha, who had been watching the entire encounter.

"That was painful," said Keisha.

"Were you watching me?" Malcolm asked, defensively.

"Damn right I was watching you. What's your deal, man? Trying to steal her away or something? Because that's…" Keisha looked down and thought for a moment. "That's hilarious, actually. You're going to crash and burn."

"Okay, before you insult me, you should know that I already made myself look like a total idiot over there. And for your information, I'm completely aware of how badly I screwed up with Cynthia. The fact that I threw away probably the only viable romantic option in my entire life because I'm too caught up in my own narcissism isn't lost on me, okay? That doesn't mean I can't try to fix it. I'm really, honestly sorry and I want to make up. I figure if I hit it off with Chase, then she'll know I'm sincere."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe, but go on."

Malcolm shook his head. "Forget it. I know you hate me and everything, but I thought you'd at least have the integrity to hear me out. It's not like I can hurt her more than I already have."

"Oh yes, yes you can. That's your problem, Malcolm. You can't see how you're going to hurt her. You don't think about how your actions impact others. You just don't. You're not able to. Maybe that'll change someday, but I'm not gonna hold my breath waiting for you to have a breakthrough."

Malcolm felt himself deflating. He was tired. Tired of screwing up, tired of being who he was and trying to be someone else. It seemed that everyone knew what was wrong with him but had no solutions.

"You're right," Malcolm said, defeated. He turned and walked back inside. Keisha looked over at Chase, who was talking to someone else, now. It was a girl Keisha didn't recognize. She didn't seem to be a part of the elevated program. She watched as Chase talked animatedly and the girl threw her head back in laughter. He seemed to be thriving off of the attention. Keisha kept watching like she had been all lunch, since before Malcolm had come outside to begin with.

XXXXX

"And then the Roman says, 'If I wanted a double, I would have asked for it!'" Dabney exclaimed

Cynthia burst into piggish laughter while Lloyd leaned on his elbow and rolled his eyes. The guffawing was cut through by a particularly severe librarian's shush. The three of them sheepishly returned to their work. But not much time passed before they were drawn back into the orbit of idle conversation.

"Stevie's time is almost up, you know," said Dabney. "It'll be my turn next."

"You wish," Lloyd scoffed. "Malcolm and Stevie were lucky. Once she figures out you're only there for trivia nights with her family, the jig is up."

"That's what you think," said Dabney. "But this time will be different. All I have to do is to pretend to be dumb like her."

"That shouldn't be hard," said Lloyd.

Cynthia's hand flew up to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"You're just mad you didn't think of it first," said Dabney.

"Why go through all the trouble with someone who doesn't even like you," asked Cynthia.

"Why don't you tell me," Dabney retorted with lingering agitation.

"Oh, real nice, Dabney," said Lloyd.

"No, it's okay," said Cynthia. She looked down and began reading her book. Lloyd smacked Dabney on the arm, causing him to wince and rub the spot gingerly.

"Sorry," he said under his breath.

Cynthia looked up, a vital light in her eyes. "I only asked in the first place because I know a thing or two about rejection. Did that ever occur to you, or does your mangled self-esteem prevent you from feeling empathy?"

Dabney looked down and frowned. "The self esteem thing, I guess."

Cynthia returned her sharp glare back to her book.

"So how are you and Chase?" Lloyd broke in.

"Me and Chase? What does that mean?"

"He's your boyfriend, is he not?"

For a moment, Cynthia made a face like she had something bitter in her mouth.

"Gosh. I mean, yeah? I don't know, it's weird to say,"

"Then what would you define it as?" asked Dabney.

"Well...it's a relationship. Broadening our horizons. Or trying to, at least."

"Not much in the brains department?" asked Lloyd, smiling wryly.

Cynthia glanced up at him for a moment without leaving her work. "He's a nice boy. I want to see where it goes and everything. I guess the only problem is we don't have much to talk about. I mean, you'd expect after a few weeks, you wouldn't have to try so hard to make conversation. He just sort of agrees with everything I say, you know?"

"Well, duh," said Lloyd. "He's no match for your intellect. The only reason he's in our program is because his parents pay a tutor to do all his work."

"That's not true," said Cynthia. Lloyd gave her a skeptical look. "The tutor just edits, that's all."

"If Malcolm wasn't such a jerk all the time, she wouldn't have to settle for dimwits," said Dabney.

Cynthia aimed a book at him. "Are you a glutton for punishment?"

"Tell me I'm wrong!" said Dabney, recoiling.

Cynthia sighed and put the book down.

"You made the right choice, Cynthia," said Lloyd. "I still hold out hope he's just going through a phase. I miss the friendship. But I don't have room in my life for that kind of negativity. Plus my therapist says I need to work on my codependency issues."

"That reminds me," said Dabney, "I forgot that my mom is taking me to visit her sister. I can't come over tonight."

"Are you serious?" said Lloyd. "We were supposed to watch my tape The Mikado tonight! What, am I supposed to watch it by myself?"

Dabney shrugged. "Sorry."

"Is that all you have to say?"

Cynthia sniffled.

"Are you okay?" asked Dabney.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Allergies."

XXXXX

The last bell rang. Keisha clutched her purse and walked down the main hallway towards the school parking lot. A ways down she saw Malcolm leaning against a locker, conspicuously attempting to appear inconspicuous. She rolled her eyes and beelined towards him.

"What are you doing?"

"What? Nothing," said Malcolm, straightening against the locker.

"You need to knock it off, Malcolm."

"Will you just get off my back?"

"I know you're here looking for Chase. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but there's no way I'm buying this 'I want to be friends' crap. You're way too petty for that. Are you listening to me?"

Malcolm's gaze had been directed past Keisha for the last few seconds, a look of shock and recognition growing over his face.

"Oh my God," said Malcolm.

"What?" Keisha said, looking back.

Their eyes both were locked on the same thing now. Chase and the girl from lunch were up against a locker and making out with abandon.

In a harsh whisper, Keisha said, "I knew it."

Chase and his mystery girl were now leaving the building hand-in-hand.

"That jerk!" said Malcolm.

"Been waiting for that pretty boy to slip."

"You knew this whole time?"

"I had a feeling. Something about that dumb, vacant smile. The flirtatiousness. He takes it from wherever he can get it. But not my girl. I'm gonna go over and tell her right now."

Keisha turned to leave but only took a few steps before Malcolm caught up and stopped her.

"Wait," he said. "Let's not tell her right away."

"Boy, I don't even have time for your bullsh—"

"Just hold on!" he interrupted. "We can't tell her tonight. If we do, she'll have to face him at school the next day with no time to get over it. It'll make it ten times worse. Let's just wait until tomorrow. It'll be Friday, she'll have the whole weekend to bounce back."

Keisha looked at Malcolm blankly. "That's unexpectedly considerate. What scheme are you pulling?"

"Don't even joke about that Keisha. I'm concerned about Cynthia. If we have the ability to soften this blow for her, we need to take it. I mean for God's sake, we're her friends!"

Keisha looked at him a few moments longer, expressionless, and then walked away.

Malcolm hurried off in the opposite direction.

I just bout myself some time. Tomorrow, I'm going to make Chase look like a complete assho—

*SLAM*

XXXXX

"I'll skip out early, make my way to Cynthia's class before the last bell, and take her to the exact same spot so she can catch Chase red-handed."

Stevie stared at Malcolm blankly.

Normally Malcolm read Stevie's looks as a kind of response, but he was too caught up in his own maniacal imagination at this moment to catch it, simply smiling blithely and solving equations in his math notebook with razor precision, as though calculus and his poorly thought out scheme belonged to a school of some equally stone logic.

Stevie filled his lungs to their limited capacity to emit a particularly emphatic sigh. It roused Malcolm from his self-absorbed state.

"Do you need your inhaler?" asked Malcolm.

" … Like you need …

… a clue," said Stevie.

"Oh, what is it now? You think you can come up with a better plan?"

" … The plan …

… is the problem.

… Since when …

… has revenge …

… worked for you?"

Malcolm furrowed his brow and looked off in thought. Then, he snapped his head back to Stevie.

"Well when did it not work?"

" … The football …

… game."

"Okay, so it didn't work out very well for me, but so what? It made Cynthia happy!"

"And this …

… will make …

… her happy?"

"Yes! She'll see what a jerk Chase is and that she can do better!"

"She'll be …

… humiliated."

Malcolm kept talking, completely missing Stevie's last point.

"It's simple. She'll hate Chase, she'll be happy I told her, and we're back to where we were at Hanukkah!"

"... Are you …"

The doorbell rang.

"That's the pizza!" said Malcolm. He ran out of the bedroom. Stevie removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

XXXXX

The school bell rang.

Malcolm shot up from his seat and rushed down the hallway to where Cynthia's class was letting out. He scanned the faces exiting the room anxiously. Cynthia came out last. She clasped her books to her chest and walked aimlessly.

"Cynthia!"

"Yes?" she responded. She sounded monotone, devoid of her usual vibrancy.

"I have to show you something."

"Not right now, it's been a long day."

"Oh, but, I mean Chase wants to talk to you."

A trace of light flicked across her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just come with me, it has to do with Chase!"

"Chase is cheating on me."

"Yeah!" Malcolm exclaimed. A second later, reality caught back up to him. "Wait, you know?"

"Yes, Keisha already told me. I broke up with him two hours ago"

"Oh, well, I mean… good."

"What were you trying to show me?"

"Oh, just, like… I mean I just thought—"

"You just thought you'd lead me to the scene of the crime so that I'd break up with Chase and you'd get the satisfaction of seeing it?"

"Um."

"Even though that would be a humiliation the likes of which I have never known and that I never would have thought you'd be capable of subjecting me to? To have a personal hand in demonstrating to the whole school that I'm just a pathetic loser who can only get narcissistic, childish, losers with twisted Oedipus complexes to like me? Was that your plan?"

Malcolm stood, stunned.

Slowly and carefully, he began to speak.

"Okay, I know you're hurt. And I'm sorry."

"I'm not hurt Malcolm. I'm mad. Very, very mad." She drew out these words in a low, cold voice. "And I want you to know that this is not going to hurt me as much as it will hurt you."

Cynthia reared back slightly and braced one leg behind her. She shot one knee up, directly into Malcolm's stomach. He instantly doubled over, a heaving gust emitting from his mouth.

Pwuh!

With Malcolm bent over, Cynthia pistoned her elbow into the air and down in between Malcolm's shoulder blades. He followed up his Pwuh! with a hiccup-like HYULK!

Malcolm crumpled to the floor like an overfull bag of laundry. His cheeks were flushed and somehow his shoelaces had come untied. He lay on his side making futile gulps for air.

This would have been the moment that Cynthia took her bag and walked away, triumphantly. But the worst was yet to come. And it didn't come in the form of a kick or a punch. Cynthia simply leaned down and got close to Malcolm's ear. He could smell the jasmine on her. The mix of strong attraction and fear it invoked left Malcolm thoroughly confused for days after.

In a near whisper, she said "I'm done with you."

She slipped her bag onto her shoulder, and walked away.

Mr. Herkabe strolled up and shook his head.

"Wow. That is a real shame. Although crude and somewhat uninspired, your little scheme had a kind of savant-like, poetic essence, almost Shakespearan in its simplicity and wantonness. I was truly looking forward to watching it all play out."

He shrugged and then went back to his classroom.

Malcolm watched him go with a look of horror.

*croaking* I really am an asshole.

*SLAM*

XXXXX

Malcolm simply stared at the door for what he feared may be going on ten minutes. He felt both embarrassed and relieved to see Miriam open the door and eye him from the front porch.

She crossed her arms and walked slowly down the porch steps.

"Can I help you?"

Malcolm swallowed. "I don't think so."

"Well, good, because it was more of a rhetorical question."

"That's fair."

A silence passed between them. The insect noise pulsed steadily as both of them tried to think of what to say.

"Can you just tell her I'm really sorry?"

Miriam smirked a little. Then she took a deep breath, weighing whether or not she should say what she was about to say.

"You know… when I was still going to school back in New York, I had a crush on this guy. He was sorta cute but really funny, you know? Really smart and everything… I signed us up to be lab partners so we'd have a chance to interact more." She smiled faintly and looked down, reliving the memory. An image of Malcolm and Cynthia passing test-tubes back and forth in the Krelboyne trailer in Junior High popped into his mind. He wanted to force it out but he wasn't able to.

"I really liked this guy. And he liked me. Usually I'm oblivious to that kind of stuff, but I could just tell with him. He was so obvious about it. Blushing, stumbling over his words, like all the things they say are signs. But he never asked me out. He just didn't, it was like he knew he liked me but it just didn't occur to him to do anything about it.

"Anyway, one day, I decided, to heck with it, you know, we live in an advanced, modern society, women can make the first move, right? And I was so ready, too, like any sense of adolescent self-consciousness just completely went out the window, that's how sure I thought this was. And so I go up to him and he's talking with some friends. I kinda tap him on the shoulder to say hi. And he turns and looks at me and… you know, I actually thought for a second that I had approached the wrong person, like there was someone at school that looked just like him from behind or something."

She paused. She had been looking down while recounting this story, but now she looked up at Malcolm, her expression searching, confounded, almost in a wince.

"He was a stranger. It was like he had completely forgotten who I was. Just 'poof!", you know? Hey, who's this? And all I could think of to say was 'what's up?' which was embarrassing, and he just sorta turned back around and kept talking to his friends."

"What a jerk!" said Malcolm.

"Yeah, he was," said Miriam. "It really, really hurt. And the next day, he acted like nothing happened. Wanted to go right back to the blushing and the stammering and the maybe-they-will-maybe-they-won't! I didn't know what to do, so I called Cynthia. It's funny, because I'm the older one, but I always felt like me and Cynthia were more like twins born a few minutes apart and she was the older one."

"I told her everything and how I was considering forgiving him, and she shut the idea down. She was like, 'Miriam, you're better than him! Why would you want to go back to a guy that acts like he's embarrassed to be with you?' And so I took her advice. I never talked to him again. You know, being turned down, it's not so bad, really. But to know someone likes you back and is ashamed of it? That feels a special kind of crappy."

Miriam shook her head and laughed ruefully.

Malcolm looked down. Shame, he thought. Now I know shame.

"It seems Cynthia doesn't follow her own advice. Until now, maybe."

"So there's nothing I could do."

Miriam stared at him for a long time. Again, she weighed something in her head.

"I would really like to say yes, just so I don't ever have to hear about you again. But I'm a fundamentally honest person. And Cynthia is a fundamentally forgiving one. So while I personally think you've blown it, I can't say so with certainty. But I do know this. Your time is limited. If you were as smart as you think you are, you'll cut your losses."

"My time? What does that mean?"

"Good night, Malcolm."

"What was that about being fundamentally honest? Are you not going to tell me what you mean?"

"I said fundamentally honest, not clear."

Miriam turned and walked back inside.

In times like these, Malcolm wished he'd gotten Dewey's creative mind. He had nothing left to do or say but stood there like before, staring at the house until the lights went out.