The Blue-Haired Boy Read Online Free Page B

paradox. I tell Gerry, “She loves my dad even though he hurts her. Do you think that makes her weak or strong?”
    “It makes her in love. Maybe I’m totally whacked in the head, but to me love is involuntary. Your mom can’t help it. ’Cause if she could, she would.”
    “It doesn’t make sense to love someone who hurts you.”
    “Sure it does. Everyone hurts us. If we stopped loving them because of pain, we’d never love anyone.”
    I don’t want to think about what she’s saying, so I shift the situation back to her. “Tell me something else about Lewis.”
    “Two truths and a lie.” Gerry continues to twist and comb my hair while she talks. “One, we met at a free concert in the park. Two, Lewis’s real name is Lee, which is how we became Gerry Lee Lewis. And three, my girl never came out to her parents.”
    This time the lie isn’t obvious, and guessing seems rude.
    “Tell me about Ben,” she says, before I can respond.
    “How long do we have?”
    She checks the spot on her wrist where a watch would be (but isn’t) and leans back against the door. “Forever,” she says, shrugging. “Give or take.”
    “Ben’s seven years older than me. He joined the army when he turned eighteen, and I don’t see him much anymore.”
    “Is one of those a lie?”
    “No.”
    “Whew. Good.” She wipes her forehead as if it’s sweaty. “I was going to call you Boring Answer Boy.”
    “You kind of already did.”
    “Well, Sweet Cheeks, you can’t worry about me. I’ve got aname for everything.” She laughs more to herself than at me.
    “You guys were close? Ben and you?”
    I stare at the toilet paper dispenser instead of her. “Until he left.”
    “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”
    “At Ben?”
    “No, the Easter Bunny. Yes, Ben.”
    “Why would I be?” I ask.
    A blue water drop rolls down my chest, leaving a pale streak of sapphire on my skin. Gerry uses the underside of her shirt to wipe it away. “He took off,” she says.
    “He turned eighteen. That’s what people do.” I crack my knuckles one at a time and point to my hair. “How long has it been?”
    Gerry doesn’t check her imaginary watch this time. “Don’t change the subject. It might be what people do, but you’re still mad. You’ve only had, like, three looks since I met you: happy, thinking, and worried. This one is new. Anger.”
    I shift a little bit and cut my eyes to the ground. “Sounds like you took off.”
    “I had to.” Her voice sounds different than it has all day. “I woke up one day and couldn’t breathe. Like someone stole all the air from the world, and the only way to get it back was to haul ass. You’ll do it, too.”
    “I won’t abandon my mom like he did.” There’s the anger I try to swallow. “Someone has to protect her. Clean up the mess.”
    “Not you,” Gerry says. “And she’ll make you go eventually.”
    “No.”
    “She loves you. She’ll make you. And if you haven’t already noticed, she didn’t have to. You’re not exactly in Rickman right now, are you? Sorry, buddy, you already left her.”
    “Screw you, Gerry Lennox.”
    “Screw whoever you want. I’m not just right, I know .”
    “Bullshit.” I toss her word in her face. “You think you know because your girlfriend died. It’s not the same,” I say, turning my anger on her. I can feel her inhale from here, which makes me wish there was a vacuum for all the painful words people say. Hurting people is what he does. I . . . I’m not like him.
    I reach out, grab Gerry’s hand. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re right. Everything you said is right.”
    Gerry is still. And quiet. It’s an odd thing to have a conversation in deep breaths, but we do it.
    Me: I hate screwing up.
    Her: I know you do.
    Me: I didn’t mean to lash out.
    Her: I know.
    Her: I’m hurting, too.
    And then Gerry says, “Lewis told me I should leave. She loved me, right?”
    I say the only answer there is: “I’m sure she