One day, when Benny was 16, he was bored and decided to paint his nails. He dug through his mother's medicine cabinet and grabbed the brightest red he could find. If he was going to do something unusual, Benny wanted to stand out.
He sat on his bedroom floor and spent twenty minutes getting his nails just right. His nails looked sloppy when they were finished, and he smudged two of them waiting for them to dry. Despite this, Benny was quite pleased with how the results turned out.
Unfortunately, his parents were not.
I did not raise a queer
Stop being a girl and take that crap off of your hands
Benny tried to explain that even though his nails were painted red, he was not gay, but this information seemed to bounce off of his parent's heads.
That night, Benny went to his room, took the polish off, and cried.
The next night, Benny put the polish back on, slightly neater.
He flashed his nails to his parents at dinner. This time, they did not say anything. Benny kept the polish on.
He got teased at school the next day. But he did not care. That red nail polish did not leave his fingers.
Soon, everyone got used to the fact that Benny wore red nail polish every single day. The teasing slowed.
From then on, every Sunday and Wednesday night, Benny took off the old nail polish and put on a brand new coat. He did this for three years straight.
The only reason he stopped is because he got tired of the red and switched to a deep royal blue instead.
YOU ARE READING
Broken boy
Novela JuvenilBoys like girls, and if you don't, you're gay. Right? Benny doesn't like girls, which means he's gay. Right? Benny doesn't like boys, which means he's straight. Right? Benny doesn't like anybody, which means he's broken. Right?
