Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda Read Free Page A

no one really judges you. Except it all kind of devolved into this sinkhole of gossip and bad poetry and misspelled Bible quotes. And I guess it’s kind of addictive either way.
    That’s where I found Blue’s post. It just kind of spoke to me. And I don’t even think it was just the gay thing. I don’t know. It was seriously like five lines, but it was grammatically correct and strangely poetic, and just completely different from anything I’d ever read before.
    I guess it was about loneliness. And it’s funny, because I don’t really think of myself as lonely. But there was something so familiar about the way Blue described the feeling. It was like he had pulled the ideas from my head.
    Like the way you can memorize someone’s gestures but never know their thoughts. And the feeling that people are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows.
    The way you can feel so exposed anyway.
    The way he feels so hidden and so exposed about the fact that he’s gay.
    I felt strangely panicked and self-conscious when I read that part, but there was also this quiet thrum of excitement.
    He talked about the ocean between people. And how the whole point of everything is to find a shore worth swimming to.
    I mean, I just had to know him.
    Eventually I worked up the courage to post the only comment I could think of, which was: “THIS.” All caps. And then I wrote my email address. My secret Gmail account.
    I spent the next week obsessing about whether or not he would contact me. And then he did. Later, he told me that my comment made him a little nervous. He’s really careful about things. Obviously, he’s more careful than I am. Basically, if Blue finds out that Martin Addison has screenshots of our emails, I’m pretty sure he’ll freak out. But he’ll freak out in a totally Blue way.
    Meaning, he’ll stop emailing me.
    I remember exactly how it felt to see that first message from him in my in-box. It was a little bit surreal. He wanted to know about me. For the next few days at school after that, it felt like I was a character in a movie. I could almost imagine a close-up of my face, projected wide-screen.
    It’s strange, because in reality, I’m not the leading guy. Maybe I’m the best friend.
    I guess I didn’t really think of myself as interesting until I was interesting to Blue. So I can’t tell him. I’d rather not lose him.
    I’ve been avoiding Martin. All week, in class and rehearsal, I see him trying to catch my eye. I know it’s kind of cowardly. This whole situation makes me feel like a coward. It’s especiallystupid, because I’ve already decided I’ll help him. Or I’ll cave to his blackmail. Whatever you want to call it. It honestly makes me feel a little sick.
    I’m distracted all through dinner. My parents are especially jolly tonight because it’s Bachelorette night. I’m dead serious. As in the reality show. We all watched the show yesterday, but tonight is the night we Skype with Alice at Wesleyan to discuss it. It’s the new Spier family tradition. I could not be more aware that this is perfectly ridiculous.
    I don’t even know. My family’s always been like this.
    â€œAnd how are Leo and Nicole?” my dad asks, mouth twitching around the edges of his fork. Switching Leah’s and Nick’s genders is like the pinnacle of Dad-humor.
    â€œThey’re amazing,” I say.
    â€œLOL, Dad,” Nora says flatly. My little sister. Recently, she’s been using text abbreviations out loud sometimes, even though she never uses them in actual text messages. I think it’s supposed to be ironic. She looks at me. “Si, did you see Nick playing guitar outside the atrium?”
    â€œSounds like Nick’s trying to get a girlfriend,” says my mom.
    That’s funny, Mom, because get this. I’m actually trying to prevent Nick from getting the girl he likes,