The other guys laugh. But I glance at Jess and she’s not laughing.
“Yeah, give me a straight girl to hang with any day,” says another guy. “I mean a straight girl who gets me and who likes to shop for shoes.” More laughter.
Now Jess walks off. I glance at BJ, then follow her.
“Jess?” I call.
She turns around and she looks close to tears. “What?”
“Is this our fault?”
She shrugs.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her as the two of us stand in a quiet corner of the hallway. “Maybe we should just go.”
“Maybe.”
“We just wanted to see if we could patch things up. I mean after yesterday. We don’t want this to be like a war. It’s like we’re trying to build a bridge, you know. We’re trying to love you guys the way Jesus would. But maybe we’re not helping.”
“I don’t know.”
“We wanted to invite Joey to be in the forum.”
She nods to the door across from us. “That’s his room. And it looks like no one’s in there now. Go ahead and ask him.”
“Do you want to come in?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’ve already talked to him today.”
“You sure it’s okay if I just go in?”
“Yeah. They’re pretty relaxed about him today. He’s not on suicide watch or anything now.” She gives me a little shove. “Go ahead, Ramie.”
So I slowly walk into his room. But I’m thinking this is not how I planned to do this. BJ was supposed to come with me. But then I’m standing there, at the foot of his bed, and he’s looking at me with a curious expression.
“What’re you doing here, Ramie?”
“I came to see if I could bribe you to do my geometry homework, Joey. Whadya think?”
He actually laughs. “I think you could use a brain transplant, but since I survived and would have donated my brain to science anyway, you’d be out of luck.”
“Well, you know what they say about brains, don’t ya?”
“No, what?”
“Well, this guy needed a brain transplant and had two models to choose from. One belonged to a basketball player who never finished high school, and it was selling for a million bucks. But the other one had belonged to a math genius and was on sale for only $1.99.” I pause so he can take this in. “So the guy who needed the brain transplant asked why the big price difference. And the salesman told him that the basketball player’s brain was as good as new. It had hardly been used.”
Joey laughs and asks if I want to sit down. So I do.
“You know, Joey, I’m sorry if I teased you and—”
“No way, Ramie, don’t ever be sorry for that,” he says quickly. “I love it when you tease me. Sometimes that’s the only fun kind of attention I get.”
“Really? you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I mean how many times have I called you a sports geek or a girl jock or whatever? you don’t really get mad at me, do you?”
“Of course not. And that’s kinda what I thought too, but then everyone else was acting like I was this terrible unfeeling person. Like it was my fault.”
“No way, Ramie. Don’t worry. It’s not because of you.”
“Look, Joey, I won’t pretend that I understand the whole gay thing. I mean I seriously do not. But Jess used to be my best friend. And I care about her. And I care about you too. And I’m trying to find a way to wrap my head around this thing. you know that I’m a Christian, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And it’s like I feel torn. I mean on one hand, we’re supposed to take a stand against sin. But on the other hand, we’re supposed to love everyone. And it can be confusing.”
Joey doesn’t say anything.
“But more and more, I’m thinking about what Jesus did. And mostly I think that he loved people. He spent time with people. He hung with them wherever they were at. And that’s what I’m trying to do. BJ is too. But it’s still tricky, you know?”
“I know.”
“Okay, I realize I’m just talking about myself now, Joey. And I know you’re hurting. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He kind of smiles. “Just keep being yourself, Ramie.”
“Well, there’s room for improvement.” Then I tell him about the forum our church is having after Christmas. “We’d really like you to be a part of it.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can understand how it might be hard,” I tell him. “But the purpose is to inform people about the problems. People need to understand how the teasing hurts. We need to find ways to bridge this gap. Especially between Christians and homosexuals. Do you see what I mean?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, there’s no hurry. Just think about it, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” Then he looks toward the door and I can hear someone coming in.
“Hey, it’s one of the straight chicks,” says a guy’s voice behind me.
I turn around and smile at the guy in the shiny shirt. “My name is Ramie,” I tell him.
“And I’m Jeremy and this is Aaron.” And we all shake hands.
“Ramie and that other straight chick brought cookies,” says Jeremy as he hands Joey a couple that are wrapped in a napkin. “Thought we’d sneak some in for you.”
“Thanks.” Joey smiles. “Beats this hospital food.”
“Well, I better go,” I say. “I heard there’s a limit on visitors.”
“Thanks for coming,” says Joey. And I think he really means it.
“Merry Christmas,” I call out as I head for the door.
“She’s pretty,” says Jeremy when he thinks I’m out of earshot.
“Did you see her shoes?” says Aaron.
I laugh as I go down the hall. I think it might be easier for me to get along with gay guys than lesbians.
“How’d it go?” asks Jess from behind me.
I jump to hear her voice, then stop and turn around. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. How’s Joey?”
“He’s cool.”
She nods. “Yeah. He is.”
“And you were right.”
“About?”
“The teasing thing. Joey agreed that it was totally mutual. And he made me promise not to quit. So I won’t.”
“Yeah. Sorry about the way that went yesterday. It was so blown out of proportion. And I know that I was part of the problem.”
“It was kind of shocking.”
“Well, I’m sure you know by now that it was all planned.”
“We had our suspicions.”
“We met and kind of got a strategy. It was Casey’s idea.”
“Oh.”
Now we’re coming back to the waiting area, and Casey and the other girls have returned and are sitting around talking and stuff. But BJ isn’t around.
“Where’s BJ?” I ask.
Casey shrugs. “Why should we care?”
“She just asked you a simple question,” says Jess. “You could at least give her a civilized answer.”
“Are you saying I’m uncivilized?” demands Casey, standing up and looking Jess right in the face.
“Hey, if the shoe fits.”
Casey takes a step toward Jess, and I honestly think I can see fire in that girl’s eyes.
“Never mind,” I say quickly, grabbing Jess by the arm. “We’ll find her.” I tug Jess along with me.
“You’re getting awful cozy with the straight chicks,” calls Casey. “You converting them or are they converting you?”
“Shut up!” Jess calls back at her.
Their laughter floats behind us as we make our way to the elevators. Then, as we’re waiting there, a girl comes around from the other side. She’s one of their group, but one of the quiet ones. I don’t know her name.
“BJ said she would be in the coffee shop,” she whispers to me as the doors to the elevator open.
We thank her, then get in and go down.
�
�Who’s that?” I ask.
“Morgan.”
“She seems nice.”
Jess shrugs.
“I mean for a friend,” I say quickly, wondering if I’ve been misunderstood. “I didn’t mean you should ask her out.”
Jess laughs now. “Don’t worry. She’s not my type.”
“What is your type?” I ask as the doors open.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Oh.” Now for some reason that makes me feel relieved. And I guess I’m hoping that Jess is not involved with anyone yet. I’m hoping that she’ll get some help first. But I have no idea how to say something like this, or if I even should. We find BJ at the coffee shop, and we all sit down together and talk.
“I’m so confused,” Jess admits. “I mean life almost seemed to be making some sense after I talked to you guys on the bus, after I told you, well, you know . . . But then this whole thing with Joey happened and it felt like being blindsided. And everyone was so angry and I just kind of got swept along.”
“I can understand that,” says BJ.
“You need counseling,” I remind her.
“Nathan really wants to talk to you,” says BJ. “And we can still go with you too, if that helps.”
“Maybe.”
“Jess,” I begin. “You can get mad at me about this if you want to, but I talked to my mom about what happened to you.”
She just shrugs. “I figured you would.”
“But you know my mom,” I say quickly. “And if anyone is cool about homosexuality, she totally is. And, of course, she immediately offered to talk to you or your family if it would help, but she said you definitely do need counseling. She said not to put it off either. She was very clear about it. She said what happened to you at soccer camp was totally wrong and that it’s had a huge impact on your life. you can’t ignore it, Jess.”
“I know.”
“And we’re here for you,” says BJ. “We’re still your friends, Jess. you know that, don’t you?”
“I guess.”
BJ looks at her watch now. “Well, I should go. I promised my mom that I’d help her to get things ready for all the family that will be storming our house for Christmas Eve tomorrow night.”
Then we actually hug Jess. And, okay, it feels a little weird. But I tell myself to get over it, and Jess really seems to appreciate it.
“Ramie?” she says just as we’re leaving. “I know you probably won’t want to now . . . I mean since things have changed . . . but you used to always come to our house on Christmas Eve, you know, while your mom goes to one of her crazy New Age winter parties . . . and I—”
“I’d love to come!” I say. “Really, I would. It would be so much better than one of those parties.”
She smiles. “Cool.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Totally.”
And seriously, despite the tension that I know will be in the air at Jess’s house, I really do love her family. I really would like to be with them.
twenty-one
“YOU’RE DOING WHAT?” MITCH ASKS ME THE NEXT DAY WHEN HE UNEXPECTEDLY stops by my house.
“I’m going to Jess’s house for Christmas Eve,” I tell him for the second time.
“Why?”
“Because she’s my friend.”
“Are you turning into a lesbian too?” he asks. Then he laughs like that’s really funny. “Although I have to admit that I might get into that. I mean if you were one of those girls who swung both ways. It is kind of a turn-on for guys, you know.”
“Mitch!” I stare at him with a shocked expression, thankful that we’re sitting across from each other at the island in the kitchen.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised.”
“Then don’t be so gross.”
“Sorry.” He makes his little-boy face, his hint that he wants me to forgive him. And while I can forgive him, I’m just not sure that I want to keep dating him.
“Sometimes I think we’re not right for each other,” I begin.
He frowns. “Oh, come on, Ramie. Just because I made a stupid joke. you know I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe.”
“I brought your Christmas present.”
Okay, now this is making me nervous. Not only have I totally not gotten him anything (partly because I was mad and partly because I get the feeling this relationship is doomed), but I know I will really feel trapped if I accept a gift from him. And yet breaking up on Christmas Eve . . . isn’t that a little harsh?
He’s taking something out of his jacket pocket now. And judging by the box, it’s jewelry. How can this be? He grins as he slides the long, narrow blue-velvet box toward me. “Sorry I didn’t wrap it.”
“I can’t accept this,” I tell him.
He frowns. “You haven’t even opened it, Ramie.”
I know. I push the box back toward him. “But I can’t accept it.”
“What do you—”
“I’m sorry, Mitch,” I tell him in my firmest voice. “Everything has been so crazy lately. And I haven’t even seen you since the other night when I ditched you at the movie.”
“Well, you’re right, that movie was pretty slimy. Sorry about that.”
“I forgive you,” I tell him. “But it’s not just the movie, Mitch. It’s you and me. We’re so different.”
“Vive la différence,” he says hopefully.
“Yeah,” I say. “Different can be good. But I am trying to be a strong Christian, Mitch. And when we started going out, I just assumed you were too.”
“I never told you that.”
I nod. “Yeah, you’re right. you never did. I guess I just hoped it was true. Maybe I imagined it was true.”
“But you knew where I stood, Ramie. I’ve always been honest about my faith—or my lack of it.”
“I know. Maybe it was just the thing with Jess that kept me going. Maybe it made me more desperate for a boyfriend than I should’ve been.”
“So I’ve just been your wrist candy?” he says in a mocking way. “Your boy toy that you can use and then lose?”
“Oh, Mitch,” I say. “You know that’s not true. I really do like you.”
He lets out a deep sigh, then looks at me with surprisingly sincere eyes. “I really like you too, Ramie. Seriously, you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever been with. you’re fun to talk to and great to kiss. I really thought we had something.”
“I kind of thought we did too, Mitch. But now I think I was imagining most of it. Maybe you were too.”
“So this is it? you’re really breaking up with me?”
I nod. But even as I nod I am questioning this myself. Why? Why am I breaking up with Mitch?
He takes the velvet box and slips it back into his pocket again. “Well, guess I better go then.”
I can hear the hurt in his voice, and it cuts through me too. “I’m sorry, Mitch,” I tell him. “If things were different . . . I mean if we were more alike . . . if you believed what I believe . . .”
“Oh, forget it, Ramie.” He just turns and walks away now. He goes straight for the front door and, without another word and without even looking back and no last kiss, he walks out of my life, slamming the door behind him.
I feel terrible. I feel just as bad as if he’d been the one who broke up with me. That’s how much it hurts. I thought I’d be relieved to be done with this, but instead, as I peek out the front window and watch his Mustang driving away, I feel this utter sense of despair. What have I done?
I turn away from the window and go up to my room, slowly taking each step as I ask myself again and again, What have I done? What have I done? I throw myself across my bed and fight off the urge to pick up the phone and call him. I want to tell him that I’ve made a huge mistake, that I’m sorry, and would he please come back? Would he take me back? I’m even asking myself what was in that blue-velvet box. Probably something I would’ve loved. How could I be so stupid?
And then I consider how this will make me look. What about my image? What will pe
ople think? I break up with Mitch on Christmas Eve and then go to Jess’s house to celebrate. How does that look? And how can I be Jess’s friend without having a boyfriend to hang onto? Won’t people assume I’m a lesbian now? How can I do this without Mitch? That old desperate feeling reaches out and grabs me by the throat. How can I do this without Mitch? How can I do this alone?
I take in a deep breath and I remind myself that I am not alone.
I have God.
So I get down on my knees and I tell God that I need him—I really, really need him. I tell him that I feel like I’m walking a tight-rope and that one step to the right or the left and I will fall. And that’s when I get this very vivid image in my mind. I see God holding my hand and promising me that as long as I hang on to him, I will not fall. And for the first time in a long time, I feel myself beginning to relax. I thank him and praise him for this image. I thank him that he’s the only one who can walk me through this, the only one who can keep me from falling. And then I get this image of me falling, like I forgot and let go, but then I see his giant hand below me, catching me. And although I don’t ever plan to let go of his hand, and I’ll do everything I can to hang on, it is a comfort to know I have a safety net.
I don’t tell my mom about breaking up with Mitch. I know she’s in a hurry tonight. Her last counseling session ran long, and even though I’m helping her to fix her seven-layer dip for the party at Brenda’s, she still needs to change her clothes. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?” she asks.
“I already told Jess I’d come to their house,” I tell her.
“That’s so nice, Ramie. I’m so glad you and Jess have worked this thing out.” Then she kisses me on the forehead. “You’re such a good girl, Ramie. How did I get so lucky?”
I laugh. “I’m sure luck had nothing to do with it.”
I don’t tell anyone at Jess’s house about my breakup either. It’s not that I want to keep this thing top secret, it’s just that it seems unnecessary to mention it just yet. And since no one asks, why should I bring it up? But as I visit with Jess’s family, hoping my presence will reassure them that things are getting better, I feel this fresh new sense of freedom. It’s like a weight has been lifted from me. And, okay, I’m still trying to navigate my way through the whole gay scene, but somehow I think it will be easier now. As if I’m less encumbered.
Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content Page 16