Color-Gifted (Color-Gifted, #1)

Chapter Sixteen

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you'd like to keep up-to-date with news of my journey to publication, you can always subscribe to my blog (you can find it on my profile) or follow me on Twitter, or just fan me here! And I'll be sure to let you know when I have news. In any case, thank you all for reading.

Vote if you like! Also, any comments and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

We’re still at Myra’s, talking about corrupted Color-gifted, when my phone rings. It’s Neveah. Even thought I gave her my number, I didn’t expect her to use it.

“Hey,” she says. She sounds terrible, lifeless, completely sapped of happiness and light.

“Hi, Neveah,” I say in a warm tone. “How are you holding up?”

Neveah sighs into the phone. “Not too good. I just wanted to talk, you know?” Her voice sounds numb, spent, like she can’t take anymore sadness, or grief, or pain.

“Of course. Anytime you need me, I’m there.” I try to inject strength and optimism in my voice, so that it will travel down the line and reach her.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

“Hey, don’t mention it.” I pause. “No news yet?”

“No.”

Myra is making hand signals at me. Tell her to come over, she mouths.

I nod. “Listen,” I say to Neveah, “come over. I’m hanging out with my friends—come over so we can talk.”

Neveah hesitates. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea—”

“Where are you now?” I interrupt.

“My place.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “Tsk, tsk. That just won’t do,” I say jokingly. “Friday night and you’re home alone?”

“Come over!” Myra shouts. Sandra and Evan do the same.

I grin. “See? We all want you here. If you don’t come I’ll have to make the guys drag you over.” I look at Evan and then at Keene. They’re both puffing out their chests and looking all manly and strong. “Trust me, they can do it.”

Neveah laughs into the phone and stops abruptly, as if surprised her body is still capable of it. “Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great!” I give her instructions and then hang up. I look at the others and feel somewhat deflated now that I don’t have to act upbeat for Neveah’s sake. “She’s coming.”

Sandra looks at me with her warm almond eyes, and by now I can tell she knows I’m feeling troubled. “That’s good.”

I run a hand over my face and sigh. “I really hope we can find a way to help her.”

Myra scoots over on the bed and puts an arm around me, saying nothing. It may not have the direct effect that Sandra’s touch has on me when she infuses it with calm or ease, but she’s my best friend, and her touch helps. A lot.

I uncross my legs and scoot down the mattress so that I can lean my head against her shoulder. My fingers play with Myra’s bedspread and I fall silent as the others begin to discuss something I’m not paying attention to. As I go over everything we’ve talked about, all the new information I’ve gotten about the evil Color-gifted, I feel like I should know more than I do—like there’s something I should have already realized by now, hovering just at the edges of my perception. Damn it.