Warren informed me that he was on the train ride back home too, to see his aunt. I asked him about his grandmother and he informed me that she was back at home and was stable enough to take care of herself. He told me about his grandmother and how he's only taking care of her because his parents passed away at a young age. He didn't elaborate on that and I didn't ask him to. While he spoke, I tried the hardest I could to assign him a colour but my brain refused.

This frustrated me. 

"My grandmother is a lovely person," he nodded, looking straight ahead. 

We hadn't made eye contact throughout the entire ride. I was thankful for this. Whenever he looked my way, I'd look out the window. I think he got the idea. 

An hour had passed and I finally looked to my right. I looked at his lap where he'd placed his hands. He was fumbling with them. He seemed to be restless. That's when I spotted a tattoo on his inner wrist. 

"A semi-colon?" I questioned. "What does that mean?"

He cleared his throat.

I sensed some discomfort because this is what father tends to do when he doesn't want to answer a question. I changed the subject.

"Tell me more about your grandmother."

He seemed grateful that I'd changed the subject before he could answer. I figured this out because of the sigh that he let out.

"She's a lovely woman," he nodded. "I think I've said that about a thousand times already."

We both laughed at this. 

"Your grandmother is yellow," I blurted out.

"She doesn't have jaundice."

"No, I meant- not literally."

"Oh?"

"I have Asperger's," I confessed, my voice barely audible. "I like giving people colours. Your grandmother is yellow. Like my mother."

"What does yellow mean to you?"

"I don't know," I started before recalling my father's words about my mother. "A ray of sunshine?"

I looked up at him. He was smiling.

"I thought Asperger's wasn't used anymore though. Wouldn't it be more comfortable for you to say you have autism or is that more of an umbrella term?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I could just say I have autism but people never really understand. They expect every person who has autism to act a particular way, to be a genius, to be obsessed with numbers. They expect all of us to be.. on the extreme end of the spectrum."

"I get that," he nodded. "My little brother had autism."

"Had?"

"He passed away."

"How?"

He cleared his throat again.

Did his tattoo have a correlation with his brother? 

"What colour am I?"

I looked out the window, "I don't know. You're the only person I haven't been able to assign a colour to."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "What colour would you say you are?"

"Hm.. probably blue. It's my favourite colour."

"Blues and pinks are roles in a relationship only," I interrupted. "Blue for a man and pink for a woman."

He looked over at me, "It doesn't necessarily have to be that way. What makes you assign these colours to them?"

"Blue is masculine and pink is feminine."

He laughed, "You sound like my mother. No, it doesn't have to be that way."

"Why?"

"You have an outdated way of thinking," he began. "But that's not the point here. A man can be feminine and a woman can be masculine."

"But every relationship needs the man to be masculine and the woman to be feminine. That's balance."

"What about relationships with just men or just women?"

I raised my eyebrows, "Huh? Like family?"

"No. Romantic relationships."

"How does that work?"

"Men can love men and women can love women, Juno," he said in a soft voice. "I know because I don't like women romantically."

"You want to take care of men.. with strings attached?" 

"Exactly," he nodded. 

I thought about the time I'd told my father I wanted to take care of a boy in my class with strings attached. I thought about how his face became all funny and he told me I was too young to be thinking about all those things. I thought about how he told me I was just confused. 

I thought about how pink doesn't necessarily have to be a woman and how blue doesn't necessarily have to be a man.

"There can be two blues in one relationship too," he started. "Or two pinks."

I thought about Elsa and Tyrone. 

All of a sudden, instead of seeing Elsa in pink, my brain switched to a vibrant blue.

Elsa is blue and Tyrone is blue.

"Are you blue or pink in a relationship?"

He grinned, "A little bit of both."

"You can be both at once too?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You can."

I thought a little harder.

Elsa is pink and blue. Tyrone is blue.