Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content (3 page)

BOOK: Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content
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“It’s
not
a choice, Ramie.”

“Says who?”

“Says most of the experts, dear. you don’t treat it—”

“Just because some stupid shrinks say homosexuality is okay and that people are born that way, which I seriously doubt anyone can prove, does
not
mean that God says it’s okay. The Bible makes that pretty clear, Mom.”

“Not everyone happens to believe that, sweetie.” She turns and smiles at me with that patronizing expression she likes to wear when we don’t agree on something that has to do with religion or the Bible. I’m sure this is only because she was raised by my very uptight and overly religious grandparents. They think
everything
is a sin. And they’ve never gotten over her having a baby “out of wedlock,” not to mention a mixed-race baby as well. In other words, my know-it-all counselor mom has her own issues.

“You mean not everyone believes the Bible?” I ask for clarification. “Because that’s like
duh
, Mom. I know that some people don’t believe the Bible. I’m just saying that I—”

“No, that’s not what I meant, Ramie. I’m trying to say that not even all Christians believe homosexuality is wrong. For instance, I have a client right now who is openly gay. And I happen to know that he and his partner were married in a church.”

“Not a Christian church,” I counter.

“Yes, it was,” she insists. “And he said it was a fairly traditional Christian church. I can’t recall what denomination.”

“Well, it was probably some weirdo, kinky kind of church. Not like the church where I go.”

“And where Jessica goes.”

“Used
to go.”

“You mean they won’t allow her to go there if she’s a lesbian?”

I consider this. “I guess I don’t really know for sure. But I do know they’ll think that it’s a sin. I’m sure they will.”

“Well, I’ll never understand that,” she says as she pulls into the garage that’s attached to our townhouse.

“What?”

“How churches can turn their backs on people like that. People in need.”

“I didn’t say that,” I tell her as we get out.

She just shakes her head as she reaches into the backseat for her briefcase. “It was implied, Ramie. And besides, I’ve seen it enough times before. I know that it happens. And
that
is one of the main reasons you won’t catch me going to church.” She closes the door with a bang. “People who live in glass houses should not throw stones!”

I want to ask her what that’s supposed to mean, but I am too frustrated to speak right now. And I sure don’t want another lecture.
Okay, I realize that Mom and I don’t agree on everything. But this is probably one of the biggest things we’ve ever disagreed on before. I really do feel betrayed. Sure, she might think that homosexuality is just fine for Jess, but what about me? Can’t she see how Jess’s decision is impacting me? What am I supposed to do with that? My mom might be a counselor, but she is clueless when it comes to helping her own daughter.

four

 

 

J
ESS AND
I
USUALLY GO TO YOUTH GROUP TOGETHER ON
S
ATURDAY NIGHTS
. But I have no intention of going there with her tonight. Although, after her big revelation today, I wonder whether she will actually go. I mean wouldn’t she be worried that I might tell someone? That the word will get out and everyone will be whispering behind her back, avoiding her, treating her like she has cooties? Seriously, how embarrassed would she be if our youth group knew?

Unless this is all just part of her whacked-out plan. Maybe she took some kind of coming-out class, like How to Destroy your Life in One Easy Lesson. What if she plans to show up at youth group and come out of the closet in front of God and everyone tonight? If that’s the case, I’d just as soon lay low. I do
not
want to be around to witness something so freaky. I’ve had enough stress already today.

But around six o’clock I begin to question this decision. I mean why should I allow Jess’s craziness to drive me away from
my
chance for fellowship? And just when I happen to need it most! I have as much right to be there as she does. In fact, in light of her recent disclosure, I might even have more. At least I haven’t chosen a deviant and sinful lifestyle. So at six thirty, after polishing off some leftover spaghetti, I decide to call BJ. She’s a close friend of both mine and Jess’s, and I wonder if she’s heard the latest.

“This is Ramie,” I say to Mrs. Trestle as I put my empty bowl into the dishwasher. “Is BJ there?”

“Bethany Jane!” her mom calls out. “Ramie wants to speak to you.”

I listen to the silence for a few seconds. “Hey, Ramie,” says BJ. “What’s up?”

I can tell by the upbeat tone of her voice that she doesn’t know about Jess yet. “I, uh, I wondered if I could catch a ride with you to youth group tonight,” I say. “I mean if you’re going. Are you?”

“Yeah, sure. I was just about to leave. But don’t you usually ride with Jess? Is she sick or something?”

“I . . . uh . . . I’m not really sure.”

“Are you okay, Ramie? you sound kinda weird.”

“It’s been a hard day,” I admit. “Maybe I can tell you about it later.”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up in about fifteen.”

“Cool.”

So I make a quick dash up to my room, change into a hot pink turtleneck sweater that my mom thinks looks really great on me, put on some silver hoop earrings, and reapply a fresh layer of my new lip gloss. Then I actually take a few minutes to primp a little. For some reason it feels important to look extra feminine tonight. I even consider putting on that new bra that’s still in the pink Victoria’s Secret bag, but now I hear my mom calling me.

I grab my letterman jacket from the hook on the back of my door, then step out of my room and look down to the family room where Mom is standing. “What?”

“Is Jess picking you up for youth group tonight?” she asks with this curious and hopeful smile. Like she’s thinking that whatever happened today will just miraculously blow over. Like I’m just
going to forget that Jess has this warped fondness for chicks and move on. yeah, right.

“Nope.” I slip into my jacket. “BJ’s giving me a ride tonight.”

Mom places her hands on her hips and frowns up at me. “What about Jess?”

“What
about
Jess?” I turn away from her and go to my room to get my purse. But as I go down the stairs, she’s still standing there, giving me that look.

“You’re not just deserting her, are you, Ramie?”

I sling the strap of my purse over my shoulder and lock eyes with my mom. “Who deserted who?”

“Jess is in a tough place right now. Aren’t you at least a little concerned about her?”

“Of course I’m concerned. I think she’s lost her freaking mind. Why wouldn’t that concern me?”

“But you’re just going to cut her off? Quit being her friend simply because she told you that she’s gay?”

I kind of shrug, then glance at the clock above the fireplace. “BJ should be here by now,” I say quickly. “I’m going outside to meet her.”

Mom just shakes her head as I walk past her. I can tell she is judging me, that she thinks I’m totally selfish, not to mention a worthless kind of friend. But then again my mom is not a Christian. She doesn’t understand that the Bible draws clear lines between right and wrong, good and evil, gay and straight. My mom doesn’t even believe in absolutes. How can she possibly get me?

“So what’s up?” BJ asks as I get into her almost brand-new VW Bug. I still can’t believe her parents got her this for her sixteenth birthday last summer. But then they’ve got money, and they probably think it’s no big deal. And, as BJ told her friends, they also promised
to take it away from her if her grades don’t stay up. Not that they need to be worried. BJ’s GPA is close to perfect and everyone is pretty sure she’ll end up being valedictorian. Still, I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy as I smell that new car smell and eye the little bud vase where she keeps a fake daisy. I mean she’s only sixteen and I just turned seventeen in October and I still don’t have a car. Not even an
old
one!

“Have you talked to Jess?” I venture as she pulls into traffic.

“Like since when?”

“You know, like
today
.”

“No, I haven’t seen her since basketball practice yesterday. By the way, you were looking really good out there, Ramie. I heard Coach Ackley telling Mrs. Cole that we might have a chance at state if you keep playing like that once the season starts.”

I kind of shrug. “That’s cool.”

“So what’s the deal with Jess? Why didn’t you ride with her tonight? Not that I mind giving you a ride. But is she sick or something? I mean she seemed perfectly fine at practice. In fact, her game was looking pretty good too.”

I’m not sure how much to say. I mean it’s one thing for Jess to confide in me. I am, or rather I was, her best friend. But I’m just not sure whether I have the right to tell anyone else. “She’s not sick,” I tell BJ. “Well, not physically anyway.”

“What do you mean? Is she going mental on us or something? Did she have some kind of meltdown?”

“Sort of.” I let out a big sigh. “But I think she should tell you herself, BJ. I mean she only told me today, and it was kind of shocking, but I don’t know if it’s okay for me to tell anyone yet.”

“Man, now you really got me curious. Now that I think about it, she has been kind of quiet lately. But she’s been at every practice
and she plays good and hard, so I’m thinking it’s not like she’s doing drugs or anything. Is she?” BJ looks worried.

I kind of laugh. “No, she’s definitely not doing drugs.”

“But she’s not coming to youth group. Has she fallen away from the Lord or something?”

“I . . . I’m not really sure. you’ll have to ask her that yourself.”

“So, she
might
be there tonight?”

“Maybe. I don’t really know.”

“Did you guys have a fight?”

“No, not exactly. But her, uh, her little announcement has put kind of a damper on our friendship.”

“Ah-hah!” BJ sounds excited now, like she might’ve stumbled onto the right answer. “Do you two like the same guy?”

“No, no,” I say quickly.

“Are you sure? I mean I noticed that you’ve kind of had your eye on Mitch Bryant lately. Do you think that Jess is—”

“No,” I insist. “It’s nothing like that. But what’re you talking about? How did you know I like Mitch? I mean not that I do.”

She laughs. “Yeah, right. Hey, I’m not stupid, Ramie. I saw you talking to him during practice last week. you seemed pretty tuned in to every word he was saying and he was eyeing you like he—”

“Hey, he was just being nice. He came by to help the coach with that new laptop that’s been driving him nuts. Then Mitch gave me a little shooting pointer,” I tell her, which isn’t completely untrue. “And it actually worked. Remember, he used to be pretty good, back in middle school anyway.”

“Well, you could clean his clock now, Ramie.”

I laugh. “Yeah, right.”

To my relief, we talk about basketball and my possibilities with Mitch during the rest of the short drive to church.

“Do you think Mitch will be here tonight?” BJ asks as we walk toward the lit-up youth building.

“I wouldn’t have the slightest clue,” I tell her. And that’s the truth. I mean, despite the fact that Mitch’s dad is the senior pastor here (a fact I still can’t completely wrap my mind around), Mitch has been pretty random when it comes to going to youth group or camps or anything. I mean, I’m sure he must be a Christian and everything. But he’s just never been that into the youth activities.

When we get inside the building, I’m pleasantly surprised to see that Mitch is actually here. He’s leaning against the doorframe and talking to Nathan Gallagher, our youth pastor.

“Hey, Ramie,” Mitch says to me as we pause by the door. “Hey, BJ. What’s up?”

I smile at him. “Not much.”

“These girls have been looking really hot out there on the basketball court lately,” he says to Nathan.

“Basketball?” asks Nathan with interest.

“Yeah,” says BJ. “Games don’t start until after Christmas.”

“And I thought you were just into volleyball and soccer, Ramie.”

“It’s a way to keep in shape,” I tell him.

“Well, she’s doing way more than that,” says Mitch. “The girls’ varsity team has some real potential.”

I shrug. “We’re okay.”

Then Mitch gives me a playful punch in the arm. “Ramie’s too humble. you should see her. She’s a star.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I’m okay.” I nod toward BJ. “But you should see this girl on defense. Our team wouldn’t have a chance if she didn’t get in there and steal the ball the way she does.”

“And Jess is a force to be reckoned with too,” adds BJ.

“Hey, where
is
our Jess tonight?” asks Nathan, glancing over our shoulders like he expects her to pop in right behind us. Of course, this sends a chill down my spine. Really, the last person I want to see right now is Jessica LeCroix. And if it wasn’t wrong (and I’m not even totally sure that it
is
wrong), I would pray to God right now; I would beg him to keep Jess away. At least for tonight. I’m just not ready to see her again. Not yet.
Please, God! Have mercy.

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