My Mixed-Up Berry Blue Summer by Jennifer Gennari Read Free Book Online

Lauren’s mother said. “Everybody is against gay marriage.”
    Head down, I knelt to unlock my bike, but someone shoved a flyer at me. “Take this home to your mom and dad, dear,” she said. “We need everyone’s support.”
    There, under the black letters, “Take Back Vermont,” it said, “Boycott Gay Businesses.” It named one of our favorite restaurants downtown and then, below that, “Stillwater Marina.”
    I grabbed at the flyer and stood up, shaking. I wanted to take them all and burn them. I wanted to shout,
That’s not fair! What did we do to you?
    â€œOh, June, it’s you.” Lauren’s mother’s tone changed.
    â€œHey, aren’t you the girl that works at the marina?” The man stared at me. “She doesn’t have a father,” he announced to the crowd. “Her mother is gay.”
    I froze.
    â€œPoor kid,” someone said. “It’s just wrong.”
    An older man agreed. “Queers shouldn’t have children.”
    â€œIf we don’t stop them, homosexuals are going to ruin our state.”
    Lauren’s mother looked me in the eye. “I hope your mother has told you about the dangers of her lifestyle,” she said. “She and Eva could get AIDS! And then you’d be alone.”
    â€œThey don’t have AIDS,” I said. “They are just regular people,” I stammered in to the silence. Everyone stared at me, disapprovingly. I grabbed my bike. “They’re just regular people.”
    I pedaled crazily, ferociously, away from the hateful crowd.
I’m just a kid with a mom who happens to be gay.
And then I wished she wasn’t. And with that thought, I began to cry, and the wind slid my tears backwards, eddying in my ears.

Chapter Eight
    â€œQUEERS SHOULDN’T HAVE children” echoed in my head as soon as I awoke. Images of the boycott flyer and the crowd scene pressed against my closed eyes. I couldn’t tell Mom. If she knew that one of the people had been Lauren’s mom, she’d tell Eva, and then Eva would make a scene. No one would know about Mom, I thought, if it wasn’t for Eva.
    I looked out my window and my mood eased. It was a glass day—that mystical once-in-a-while flat-lake time, perfect for reflection. It was so flat, it looked like you could walk on it, like in winter—though the frozen lake is a different place altogether. You can walk and walk until the horizon disappears in snow and clouds. A flat lake is the opposite—you can see above and below.
    I knew just what to do. I climbed downstairs as quietly as I could, grabbed a bag of stale bread and a muffin.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Mom stood in the doorway, still in her pajamas.
    â€œTo feed the seagulls.” I reached for the door. I wanted to be alone, on the water.
    â€œWait,” she said, and then hesitated. “Thanks for going to the library for me.”
    I stared, wondering if she knew what had happened. But her next words made it clear she had no idea.
    â€œI’m sorry for yelling at you about the burned pies.”
    â€œIt’s OK.” I checked outside to see if the lake was still calm.
    Mom put a hand on my shoulder. “Eva and I were talking. In case you were worried, all this backlash doesn’t change our commitment to each other. The ceremony will be August third.”
    â€œWhat happened to lying low?” I blurted. “Why do I have to if you aren’t?”
    Mom smiled tightly. “I know you are mad about the pie contest,” she said, “but that puts you in the spotlight. Eva and I are adults, and it’s important for us to go forward. We can’t let politics stand in the way of personal happiness. But you are just a kid, June, and I want you to stay out of it.”
    â€œThat’s impossible!” I jerked angrily away from her. As if I could avoid the hatred for Mom and Eva, and for