The Black Fedora

Shane wore a black fedora. He was fifteen, and so was I, and there weren’t too many guys in high school who had affectations like black fedoras.

(My “affectations” were mostly that I decided maybe not to wear the pink glittery unicorn shirt anymore, since I was fifteen now.)

He somehow managed to pull it off, though. He sent me pictures before I met him, with the hat. Even his senior photos featured the hat. When I finally did meet him I thought it was weird at first. It was the summer, after all. Who wears a black fedora in the summer? But he did.

And that’s the thing I remember about him first when I think about him now– that stupid black fedora that he wore despite being fifteen and it being the heat of summer. It was a small act of bravery in a world that hadn’t required too much bravery of us yet.

I hope he kept wearing it.

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