Boycotting Blue

17/Lou

Lou

 

Blue held one hand on the door knob, just staring into space. I wanted to leave—screw that, I wanted to run far, far away from Blue—but Juan had made me promise to hear the boy out. For a few minutes at least.

   He needs you, Lou.

    Yeah, right.  

     The only thing Blue needed was to go back to whatever part of Florida he came from. He needed to go back to gang-banging, stealing, selling, and whatever else he did before he graced my town with his presence. I wanted him far, far away from me. Boys like Blue were nothing but danger. And if I needed further proof he would do me no good in life, I didn’t have to look much further than that man in Juan’s house. The man. Blue’s dad. The apple really didn’t fall too far from the tree. Was that Blue’s aspirations right there? To follow in his father’s footsteps?

   I swiped at my eyes, scared. No, I was more upset at myself for showing my feelings than I was for being scared. Blue wouldn’t hurt me. I knew that deep down inside. But that didn’t stop me from fearing him. I didn’t want somebody to have that power over me. He could hurt me if he wanted to. He was dangerous.

   And he was currently turning around and staring at me blankly, like I meant nothing to him.

   Four months of friendship, down the drain. Because of some stupid drug.

   “Lou, I’m sorry you were here for my dad.” His lack of Spanish unnerved me. And his empty tone. Like he was apologizing to somebody he really didn’t know. “I should’ve known he would be here, but—mierda.” He swore again in Spanish, eyes flickering.

   I shrugged, not saying anything. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  Why was I even upset? Oh yeah. Because I had sort of, kind of started to like Blue more than a best friend, and I had spent nights creating this imaginary scenario where he became the good kid I knew he would be and we got married. We would be that couple, the ones who looked at each other after sixty years and still loved each other. But, nope, that wasn’t happening.

   Gang members stayed gang members. There was no changing that. Juan was the one in a million that actually became a decent person later. And that was only because he lost someone close to him that made him realize that living that life style wasn’t anything to be proud of.

    “Anyway,” Blue continued, back to the empty voice and blank stares, “I don’t think we should hang anymore. It’s too dangerous for you, Lou.”

   Excuse me.

   Anger rippled through me. Had I not just held a knife to his dad’s throat? I had taken a guy! Accidentally, but still. “You’re my friend,” I told him. Mi amigo, I said in my head.

   He chuckled humorlessly. “You have Dylan.”

   “Dylan’s not half-Latino either. You know how I like diversity.” I tried to keep my tone light and playful.

  Blue shrugged. “You’re black, he’s white. I think that’s diverse enough.” He put his hands in his pockets, looking around like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. “Lou, don’t make this hard on me.”

   I rolled my eyes. “Oh yeah, let’s not make it hard on you, Blue. I forget that nobody else’s feelings in the world matter but yours. Wow. How could I be so stupid as to forget somethin’ like that? The world revolves around Blue, and, sorry that I thought for a second, you would have enough decency to—“