Now this is so awkward I actually do want to forget it. “I have to go take care of this,” I mumble. “Wait here for me.”

I hand him the comics I want to give Collin and run into the staircase before he can protest. I don’t hear Brendan or that girl Nate running off so I keep jogging down. Brendan looks like he’s seeing a pissed-off ghost when I turn the corner. I swing at him and he ducks, which is fine because I was really hoping to kick him in the balls, which I do.

He crumples to the floor. Nate picks up the weed and runs away. No doubt she lost a dealer after stealing, but she won’t give a shit while she’s high today.

Brendan holds his crotch, his manhood, and groans. “I had that coming.”

I almost have sympathy pains for him because getting hit in the balls sucks hard. Almost. “You fuckers fucked up my fucking brain!” I shout, ready to pounce on him all over again. “Major fucking memory loss and there’s a chance I’m going to fucking forget this fucking conversation but I’ll never fucking forget how my fucking friend almost fucking killed me because he fucking hated me.”

No matter how many times I say it out loud or to myself, I can never wrap my head around the fact that Brendan could’ve gone to jail forever for killing me.

Maybe it’s okay to forget. I’ll never play cards in his hallway again whenever it’s snowing outside or too chaotic to hang out in his house. I’ll never throw popcorn at his grandfather while he’s snoring in front of the TV again. I’ll never sleep over again and kick at the top bunk where he almost got this girl Simone pregnant before he learned the magic of condoms. I’ll never sit at his computer with him and write crude customer reviews on insane products, like a banana slicer and dog-shaped dog whistles. I’ll never leave his sneakers outside the window so his room won’t smell like feet.

“I don’t hate you,” Brendan says. “I just don’t understand why you’re being gay.”

“I can’t change that,” I say. Except for that time I could, and even then, I still kind of couldn’t.

He sits up and rests his elbow on his knee. “You chose that Thomas kid over us. We’re your blood, not him or anyone else.”

“Maybe that’s true. But I never knew. And I’m basically a toy without batteries because of you guys.”

“Your boys will take care of you, A.”

“Even if I’m gay?” I say the word out loud, about myself, because even though I never chose this, I can choose to accept it before it’s too late.

Brendan says nothing. I have my answer. I head back up the stairs and hope one day Brendan will find his happy ending. I really do want this for my very confused, former sort of best friend.

15

THE BOY WHO WON’T MAN UP

   I’m about to sit in the alleyway between the meat market and flower shop and maybe flip through one of the comics I brought for Collin—Issue #7 of The Dark Alternates, the big finale—but community service do-gooders are painting over the spray-painted black-and-blue world Collin and I made.

And then he’s here.

“’Sup,” Collin says, nodding at me. He looks around, probably for spies with cameras, and finds the community service team in our spot. “Hey, what the hell are they doing?”

“Community service,” I say.

“Where can we go instead? You need to go buy a condom too because Nicole was finally in the mood last night and I used mine.”

Of course he uses a condom after she’s pregnant.

“Don’t need them.”

“You want to do it without . . . ?”

“Look, our graffiti is gone.”

“Yeah. That sucks. Oh shit, you got the last issue! Let’s go read it.” I hand the comic over to him. In another life, this could’ve been cool. He speculates on what might happen: “Who do you think the redhead in the scarlet robe is? Do you think the Faceless Overlords will go through with the siege? Shit, they have to, don’t they? Man, this is going to be insane.”

I sit down on the curb and ask him to join me. “I can’t keep wrecking things, Collin. The way I feel about you has changed, and I don’t think it’s because there are still some memories of our good times hidden in my head or something.”

“Wait, you for real did that Leteo thing?”

“Yeah. I forgot everything that went down with you.”

“Are you fucking with me again?”

“I’m not.”

“Seriously, you no joke had your mind wiped?”

“Don’t you feel bad that Nicole has no idea you’re with me?”

He doesn’t say no or admit to how little he gives a shit.

“Well, I feel bad,” I tell him. “This makes us different. I don’t think you suck as a person. I legit believe you’ll be better than this one day, but if you want to continue faking out your family, that’s your unhappiness, not mine.”

Collin shrugs, hiding his pain poorly. “So, what, forget we ever happened, right? I don’t want you coming at me tomorrow or the day after.” He gets up, pacing back and forth to give me enough time to take back my words.

I don’t.

“Okay then. I’m going.” He’s holding on to the comic, in no way about to give it back, and crosses the street to retreat back to his safe life built on lies. But then he freezes. He turns and rushes back over to me. “Are you sure about this?’

I can almost forgive him now. “I can’t screw anyone over anymore, Collin,” I say. “Look, I loved you, but now isn’t the time for us.”

Collin flips me off and walks away.

I lean forward on the curb to flip through the comic when I realize it’s not in my hands. I look around to see if I dropped it before realizing what’s happened.

16

THE GIRL WITH THE

UNFINISHED PAINTINGS

   I forgot what happened with Collin. And I hope to God he’ll change and that it’ll be something worth missing. I just hope I remember everything with Genevieve because she’s the one I would’ve been lucky enough to share a happy ending with.

She loves me in a way that’s not fair to her. And it’s shitty times two because I know the feeling.

Before I knock on her door, I ask Eric to wait downstairs for me. I extend an arm to pat his shoulder. He must think I’m trying to hug him because he leans in and it’s awkward and I recover by hugging him for the first time since we were kids.