INDIGO

PART FIFTEEN

"Easton, are you gay?" My mom was the first to break the silence. "Mom, what, no!" I stammered, caught off guard. "...Indigo?" She continued, peeking her head around her seat to look at him and taking in the clothes he was wearing. "Uhm... I- I dunno," he glanced at me. "Do you like boys?" She seemed to be speaking with as much hesitation as he was as she basically repeated her question. He swallowed hard, before shakily replying, "I think so..." My dad shook his head.

"I'm sorry..." Indigo nearly whispered. "No, no, don't be sorry, honey," my mom quickly reacted, "We're not mad about that, just..." "Why didn't you ever tell us anything? We're your...," my dad started, before changing the rest of his sentence, "We care for you." My mom took a deep breath, preparing for her next question, "Indie... do you wanna be a girl?" He abruptly started coughing, "HUH?!" He yelled, "Not at all! Why does everyone keep asking me that today?!"

"I told you, it's 'cuz of the clothes you're wearing!" I laughed. "I did that for you!" He retaliated, when he gasped and covered his mouth. "So you do like him," my dad sighed. "Is that... is that bad?" Indigo meekly asked. "It's- Just... I don't know how comfortable I am with you sleeping in his ro-," my dad started, before my mom smacked his shoulder, interrupting with, "Honey! Indigo wouldn't do anything to him!" She quickly turned to face Indie, "I know you wouldn't, sweetheart, we're just a little... concerned about your relationship..." She glanced about the car, as if looking for the right words to say.

"What do you mean, mom?" I joined in. "I mean, well, Indie liking you... changes things," she rubbed her arm, comforting herself, "He basically lives with us, but I don't think that will be good for you two. If Indigo truly does have feelings for you, East, and you don't return them, it's not fair to either of you if he continues to feel that way while you're still friends." Indigo crossed his arms, sinking further into his seat, stating monotonically, "So you want me to stay at Rome's." Both my mom and dad stayed silent.

The car abruptly stopped; we were at Camila's school. We didn't speak as she got in, and my mom just made light 'how was school' conversation with her until we got home. There, she was sent to her room and we had a long, boring, and uneasy conversation about it all... I kept up my 'I'm not gay' defense, and it was decided Indigo would have to gather his stuff and stay with Romeo from then on. Though it was supposed to be a solution, both of us hated the idea and tried to fight against it, but, in the end, it was my own pride that got in the way.

"Where's Indiana Jones?" Dan, a friend who I talked to occasionally, suddenly appeared beside me as I sat in the cafeteria before school. "Huh? Oh, he, uh, walks to school now. He'll probably get here later," I responded absentmindedly as I sifted through a folder. "Didn't ya come to school together?" He took a seat next to me. "Yeah, but he doesn't stay over anymore. Stop bothering me now, I didn't finish my homework last night so I gotta hurry," I spoke with an annoyed tone, not looking at him. "Aight, aight, cool it," he bumped my shoulder, before standing and taking off. A few weeks passed since Indigo had started staying with Romeo, we hadn't talked at all, and I was in a constant bad mood. I barely slept, I was always too distracted to do schoolwork, I had no appetite, and, most of all, I felt so alone.

Sitting in that crowded cafeteria of middle schoolers, at a table full of people, who were loud enough to be heard even from outside, it was like my world was silent, and empty. For the past 4, even 5, years of my life, I had never spent so long without Indigo. It made me think, really think, just how much he meant to me. But, of course, a petty, lonely 13 year old wouldn't listen to the raw facts of being wrong or making a mistake, and instead, I'd come up with a different 'solution' to that hurt feeling inside me.

It was after school, and I weaved through a few people to get down the East hall of the building, towards the gym. "Is Emma here?" I asked a couple girls I didn't know, until one finally pointed me to the far end of some bleachers, where a brown haired girl sat. "Hey, Emma!" I called out to her, and she looked up from her phone. "E?" She seemed to be a bit taken aback as I plopped down next to her. "Uh, so, I have a favor to ask of you." "No thanks, you don't deserve jackshit," she scooted away, looking back down at her phone. "What? Em, what's wrong?" I questioned, glancing down at my watch for a second, knowing I didn't have much time.

"You can't just break my bestie's heart, basically ghost us for, like, a month, and then expect me to do you a favor! Why don't you do yourself a favor and get the hell out of my face," she snapped at me, though keeping her voice low since there were people around us. "Look, I- I'm sorry if I hurt him, but what did you expect me to do? I, uhm," I tried to come up with something that might calm her down, "The reason I stopped talking to you guys is to give him some space... to, y'know, heal or something." She glared at me for a second, but my satiation attempt worked, and her expression softened. "Well it's not going so good... did you know his speech gets really bad when he's stressed? He forgets how sentences work, like, he turns into Yoda," she tried to make a point, but ended up giggling to herself by the end.

"Yoda? Pfft, I think that's happened before, but it was mostly just forgetting words so he'd have to do charades to describe what he meant..." I reminisced a bit. "Uhm... so, what was the favor?" She asked with a soft tone, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear awkwardly. "D- er, do you have any, ehh, single friends?" I stammered a bit, embarrassed. "What?? Omg, are you girlfriend hunting?!" Her face lit up, and she waved her hands excitedly, "What's your type? Cute, pretty, hot-?" "Hush!" I interrupted, because she was getting too loud, plus the question made me flustered. "Aww, you and Indie both say 'hush' just like old grandmas~" she hummed. I just rolled my eyes, avoiding thinking about him.

"I don't really know what a 'type' is," I muttered, trying to think of some kind of ideal girl. "Tiny, tall, long hair, short hair, glasses, no glasses, brunette, blonde, red-head..." she rambled, listing random vague characteristics. "M- maybe tall? Uh, and long hair, any color is fine... I don't really care about glasses either," I tried to keep up, but I was a little lost. She made a weird face at me for a second, but quickly moved on and then started scrolling through her phone. "What about her?" She showed me an Instagram post, with a picture of a black-haired girl in a volleyball uniform. "Uhmm, she's too buff, I feel like she could snap my neck with her pinkie," I joked. "Bruh," was all Emma said, before showing me a bunch more other girls.

A lot of them I thought were really pretty, and she told me she'd talk to them and send me the numbers of whoever was down. I thanked her, before sprinting back to the front of the school, where my dad was probably waiting for me. A few days later, Emma was sending numbers left and right, attached with messages including, "ur more popular than I thought" or "I didn't show u her but I think you'd be into her :P" By the end of the week, I was texting at least four girls. A lot of my friends were cheering me on and teasing me about it, and apparently it'd been going around the school that I was looking for a girlfriend. I kinda liked it though, having all that attention.

There was one girl in particular who was constantly messaging me, and she often even came up to me at school to talk. She was sweet and dressed nicely, so the idea of her being 'the one' came to mind early on. Her name was Marilyn, and she had dark brown hair with blonde highlights and tan skin. She was about my height and had a few not very prominent freckles. She talked a lot, mostly about games she liked and her art projects, and she did this cute little snort whenever I made her laugh. It didn't take long for me to develop a little crush on her, so I decided to make a move one day by inviting her to a park nearby my house.

"It's getting really chilly, right?" She leaned towards me on the bench we sat at. "Yep," I stiffly replied. "Winters in Wikker hit hard," she sighed, leaning back on the bench and lifting her legs up to hug. I looked up at the little playground we were in front of, with its blue swings and lame slide, and a memory of Indigo and I playing in it popped up suddenly. "Wanna go out?" I asked calmly out of nowhere. "...Eh?" Marilyn's head darted towards me. I slowly turned to her too, repeating, "I said, wanna go out? As in, date?" She stared blankly at me for a second. "For real?"

"Yes," I snickered, "I mean it. I like you." "Oh," for once, I had rendered her speechless. "Yeah, yes, yeah, I wanna," Marilyn finally spoke, shaking her head seemingly to clear her mind. She shyly reached her left hand over and touched my right, burying her face into her knees as she did so. It was a bittersweet moment. A part of me felt fuzzy and nervous about getting a girlfriend, and the other half of me was grim in the feeling this meant I had completely abandoned Indigo.