Free Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs Page A

afraid of new things.”
    “I’m not afraid to try new things,” Hope said. “But I draw the line at dog food.”
    “I don’t want to try it either,” I said.
    Bookman placed his hand on my shoulder and it was like my entire body warmed five degrees, instantly. “Try a little.”
    I had to now. “I’ll try it if Hope does.”
    Hope looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks a lot. That means I’m the coward. Okay, fine. Gimme that bag.”
    Agnes held the bag up and Hope and I reached in and removed one nugget each. Then we looked at each other and popped them into our mouths.
    It was surprisingly tasty. Nutty, slightly sweet with a satisfying crunch. I could immediately see how the little pellets could become quite addictive. “They’re not awful,” I said.
    “See?” Bookman said.
    “I told you. What did you think? I wouldn’t eat them if they didn’t taste good,” Agnes said, bringing a whole handful to her mouth and tossing them back. She crunched loudly and turned her attention back to a soap opera.
    “Well, I gotta go,” Hope said. “Dad needs me at the office. We’re behind on the insurance forms. See you guys later?”
    “Yup. Catch you later,” Bookman said.
    Hope opened the front door to leave. “Bye, Augusten. Have fun.”
    “Okay, see ya.”
    After she left, Bookman said, “So. Do you want to take a walk?”
    We walked into the center of town, up to the Smith College campus, then beyond all the way to Cooley Dickinson Hospital. The whole way I was dying to tell him about me. I felt like we had so much in common—being gay, being stuck at this house, being without our own parents. And in a house full of girls, we were two guys. But still I couldn’t tell him. I told him everything else—about how my parents’ fights had gotten really bad, about their divorce, about how my mother had started to get a little weird, about how she was seeing Dr. Finch all the time now and I was basically living there because she couldn’t handle me.
    “It’s tough to have a sick mom,” he said. “My mom couldn’t handle me either. Neither could my dad.”
    “Yeah, mine too. He never wants to see me. And my mother, she’s just so caught up in her own stuff. I guess she’s been through some really bad things and she needs to focus on herself right now.”
    “And where does that leave you?” he said.
    “Yeah.”
    “Yeah,” Neil said. “Exactly. Here at the crazy house of the even crazier Dr. Finch.”
    “Do you think he’s crazy?”
    “In a good way. I think he’s a genius. I know he saved my life.” And then out of the blue he said, “He was the first person I told I was gay.”
    “Really?” I said. He’d finally said it. All this time I was beginning to wonder if Hope had been wrong. He seemed so normal, like a regular guy. He didn’t have an earring or talk with a lisp and judging by his brown shoes and pale blue polyester slacks, he certainly wasn’t gifted with color.
    “Me too,” I said.
    “What?” asked Bookman, pausing on the sidewalk.
    “I’m gay.”
    Somehow, this took him completely by surprise. He gasped, inhaling sharply and his eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
    “Yeah,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “I thought you knew, I thought Hope told you.”
    “Holy Mary mother of God,” he said. “So that’s what this was about.”
    “What?”
    “Nothing. So you’re gay?” he asked again.
    “Yeah,” I said.
    We continued walking but then he stopped again. “Are you sure you’re gay? I mean, how long have you felt like this?”
    I told him all my life.
    “That’s pretty sure.” He chuckled.
     
    *   *   *
     
    As we walked down Main Street past the closed stores, Neil said to me, “I just want you to know, I’m here for you whenever you need to talk. I mean, night or day. You can talk to me about anything, this or anything else.”
    I glanced at him and thought he looked so handsome, bathed in the artificial yellow glow of the