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i look at the blue sparkly wrapping paper as it shines in the light. blue is not my favorite color. but mom insists it is. she says she knows me, better than i know myself. she says that blue is the color for boys, and so it is my favorite. even though i like pink, i let her believe i like blue. because it makes her happy. 

i carefully unwrap the wrapping paper so it can be saved for next year. as mom always suggests. inside the box are cars, hot wheel cars to be specific. i can tell my reaction is too delayed, mom's eyes are closing like she might cry. she thinks i don't like the gift. dad has the camera ready, none of my reaction is picture perfect.

i close my eyes and bring my smile up so high it looks natural in photos. "this is the best present ever!" i say, so she knows i love it. 

even though, i would rather play dress up and have barbies, and have them marry other barbies. 

"see chris, i told you he'd love it."

if dad can tell my restraint against the gifts, he sure doesn't say anything. he just clicks away at the camera. i pick up the cars and make sure to give my biggest smile as i inspect them and make car noises, pretending to have the most fun of my life, pushing the blue box away from me. 

"you love those toys, don't you?" mom says, her voice higher, like she's worried im lying. like she can tell. 

"of course!" i lie to her straight through my teeth, not that she can tell. "all the other boys in school have had them, i wanted them too."

her posture relaxes, she actually believes me. 

"and did you like the wrapping, blue, your favorite!"

"just like every year," i respond to her. 

"oh happy birthday tyler."

happy birthday. tyler. 

-

i place the toy cars on my book shelf. they're to the left of three books mom got me last year for my birthday. they're about trucks and cars, dirt and mud. things i don't have interest in. under my bed i pull out books about princesses and princes. i fall asleep reading about the fairytale life i wish i had. 



a/n: well hello hello

welcome again 

wait// joshlerWhere stories live. Discover now