Lunch was well past over, but Simon couldn't seem to get the joke Martin had made out of his head. What do you get when you mix black and Jewish? he'd asked. The completely unfunny and yet unsettling answer to the riddle? Blueish.

It wasn't a huge, obvious thing, nothing that anyone else would pick up on, but Simon was sure that Martin was trying to hint at something. He was the only person besides Simon (and, well, Blue himself) who knew about Simon's secret email boyfriend. Simon knew that Martin knew Blue was Jewish, since that conversation was one of the ones he'd screenshotted and threatened to use to out Simon. He shuddered again at the thought of being outed. Fuck Martin Addison, honestly. He was such a dickwad.

But the real question was: what was Martin trying to hint at? Blueish obviously was referring to Blue. Martin must have figured out who Blue was. Maybe he blackmailed it out of some kid. God, Martin made Simon's blood boil. But who was Blue?

Black and Jewish. There were quite a few black kids at school, and a few that Simon knew were Jewish, but none of them overlapped- at least, not that he could remember.

He pulled out his laptop and opened a new document, frantically typing down all the names of the black boys and Jewish boys he could remember. Isaac Appelbaum? Samuel Sanson? Bram Greenfeld? Adam Frishman?

When Simon cross-referenced the lists, though, he came up with no results. He sighed. Back to the drawing board.

He scanned down the list of names, italicizing any that came from biblical origin. He didn't know nearly anything about the Bible, though, which meant he had no idea if the nickname "Blue" had anything to do with a biblical prophet or something.

He let his head fall into his hands after a good while of working, but snapped it up fairly soon after. Wait a minute. He knew that Blue's dad was Jewish, which technically made Blue not Jewish because Judaism was matrilineal, and he knew that kids usually took their dad's last name, which meant that if Blue's dad had a Jewish last name, Blue likely would too.

That opened a whole new can of worms. Simon googled Jewish surnames, and though it mostly brought up lists and lists of names that there was no way Simon was going to cross-reference all of, one particular article caught his eye.

"-feld: What your Jewish Surname Suffix Means"

His eyes opened wide. -feld. Greenfeld. Bram Greenfeld. Was Bram Jewish? He was black, that was for sure, and when Simon paused to consider, he realized that all the pieces fell into place. The last name. The Oreos, the way Bram asked Simon to be his pong partner even though he'd watched Simon choke on literally one swallow of beer five minutes before, the way Blue had followed the "why is straight the default" discussion with "why is white the default?" Everything made sense. He slapped his forehead. How could he have been so goddamn oblivious?

Simon opened up a new tab and started writing an email.

Blue,

I hope you don't hate me for this, but I have something I want you to know.

I'm almost positive I know who you are.

Love, Jacques.

Jacques,

I don't hate you. How could I hate you for wanting to know who I am when I want to know who you are? In fact, I have a hunch too, about who you are. Why don't we guess?

1. You have beautiful moon-gray eyes,
2. You sit at a lunch table with Leah Burke,
3. You share a first name with an chipmunk,
4. You like to stare at me in class (don't worry, I do it too),
5. And I've had a crush on you since freshman year.

How'd I do?

Love, Blue

Blue,

1. I wouldn't call them beautiful, but they are gray.
2. I do.
3. Sure do. I'm not as squeaky as him, though- or at least, I hope... D:
4. I stare at one boy in particular. You? I think so. Maybe.
5. Wow.

So, yeah, you got it. I'm Simon. Are you surprised? Pleased? At any rate, my turn.

1. You're the star player of Creekwood's soccer team,
2. You once held a Halloween party at my house where we were beer pong partners,
3. Your name and pen name start with the same letter,
4. You have incredibly strong calves,
5. And I've called you cute in my head since freshman year.

How about it? How'd I do?

Love, Simon
(PS: So weird to sign off as Simon.)

Simon,

I am incredibly pleased. I couldn't think of anyone I'd want for an Internet boyfriend than you, Simon Spier.

1. Star player? Pfffft. More like, the only one who 1) can kick a ball even remotely well and 2) wants to be the captain. Have you paid any attention to the scores? We've won one (1) game this season.
2. I sure did!
3. I mean, technically not, but I'll give it to you. My real name's Abraham.
4. Ha, sure.
5. Wow.

Are you disappointed, Simon?

Love, Bram

Bram,

How could I be disappointed?

Love, Simon