“Do you think it’s okay to lie to protect someone?”
"to protect someone?"
he hesitates; the question makes him uneasy. he's hesitant, too, to consider that that might be as telling as any answer he can give.
"i think... i think it's easy to say yes if it works, if you really know, for sure, that they're better off that way. and i think the only person who'll ever really know that is the person you lied to, right? so maybe they're the only one who can judge in the end--but that means that they'd have to find out that you lied, and if they do... doesn't that mean you couldn't protect them well enough anyway?"
he thinks of his grandparents, when he sat them down on that evening of his last birthday to tell them what he wanted to do for the summer. he remembers how they sounded but not how they looked, because shame had kept him heavy and his gaze rooted to the floor, and whenever he runs out of distractions, that's what he thinks of, that memory and what he might've seen if he'd been brave enough to look them in the eye. he thinks of how he had to tell his friends too, how he hadn't been able to look them either. sometimes he wishes he could have lied instead, even just a little bit. maybe it would've been better if he'd told them he just wanted to go because he was bored or something, so at least they would've thought it was like any other reason anyone ever wanted to leave town, not because they weren't...enough for him. that's the thought that's most unbearable.
"i don't think it is," he admits. "but still, there are things i wish i'd lied about, you know? i think sometimes it is better, even if they might not think that."
