Outside The Lines {20}

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                “In a show of hands, who has said these words before? In a show of hearts on the floor, who has ever meant them more?” Mayday Parade sang as I drove towards the Ivanov’s house.

                I had to talk to Dimitri. Thalia and Oliver had been calling and texting me non-stop, but I had been ignoring them. I couldn’t stop feeling guilty over the way I had rejected Dimitri today, and I had to go talk to him.

                I pulled into the Ivanov’s driveway and turned the car off. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Surely Dimitri would understand once I had talked to him.

                I got out of the car and started up the driveway. I saw Mr. Ivanov sitting on the front steps and opened my mouth to ask him if Dimitri was home.

                But then I froze.

                That wasn’t Mr. Ivanov. It was Dimitri.

                Dimitri looked up at me slowly, his expression carefully composed. I openly stared at him, unable to believe what I was seeing.

                “Dimitri,” I finally managed. “You look so…so…”

                “Normal?” he offered, his voice deep and thick with its accent.

                “Yea,” I said lamely. “Normal.”

                Instead of the outrageous outfit he had been wearing today, he now had on a light blue long-sleeved shirt that hugged his figure comfortably. He wore dark jeans, and he wasn’t wearing shoes. He had on no nail polish on his nails or toes. His wrists were bare of bracelets, and he had on no scarf.

                He was wearing no make-up, and his hair was completely its natural light shade of brown, lying flat against his head with no trace of purple in it. It covered his ears, hiding the many piercings in them. Only his nose ring was visible.

                He looked like a model. An award winning, gorgeous Russian model. The light blue of his shirt matched his eyes, making them shine. His lashes were thick and dark, even without make up.

                “But…your purple hair…” I said, unable to believe what I was seeing.

                He ran a hand through his soft hair. “It’s the gel I use. It temporarily dyes my hair purple. It washes out.”

                “Why are you dressed like this?” I asked finally.

                “Because I’m tired, Theo,” he said, giving me a tired smile.

                Theo.

                He had never called me Theo before. Only little Theodore.

                “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whispered, realizing just how bad the situation was.

                “I know you didn’t, and that’s what makes it worse. You were so ashamed of being with me because of the way I look and act, that you actually denied me out of embarrassment. I really thought you would accept me,” he said softly.

                “I do accept you Dimitri. I’m not embarrassed of you,” I said, knowing it was a lie. He was wildly flamboyant. If I was being honest with myself, I was embarrassed of him.

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