Indigo Forrest has always found her name a little ironic--mostly because she can't even see the colours that make it up. Diagnosed with Achromatopsia (a rare eye condition that makes her see the world in black and white), Indi spent most of her chil...
Shaking my head, my gaze met hers again. "Sorry, what?"
"I was waiting for you to reply about the kindness thing."
Taking a deep breath, I said, "I think it is a crush."
She blinked at me once. Then twice. Then thrice. "Well, that didn't take much convincing. Is that where you went just then?"
And, so, I told her about the bus incident earlier this week.
"So... what do you want to do about it all then?" she asked when I had finished the story.
Shrugging, I said, "You said to stay away from him."
"I mean... he's not good news, Indi. You can do better than him. And if the colour is connected to your feelings, surely the next guy you crush on will light up for you as well."
"Maybe," I mumbled back. "I guess, for now, I just leave things as it is. It's not like he and I are close. He asks for my pens in English once a week and sat next to me on the bus once. We aren't friends. We aren't in touch... I'll just wait until the magic disappears. I'm sure eventually I will see his true colours and then... he will just fade into the masses again for me."
My gaze anxiously flickered up to Carys as a part of me hoped she'd reason with me... tell me to not give up and that true love can prevail... alongside the other tripe that comes with teen romance stories. But her eyebrows merely knotted together as she seemed to become lost in deep thought.
"What?" I asked.
"I was just thinking... that saying really doesn't apply here."
"What saying?"
"See his true colours. Because if you do see his true colours, then he won't be in colour."
"Oh my gosh," I muttered, resisting the urge to face palm.
"What?" she asked, trying to mock seriousness, though the corners of her lips were already lifting.
"I can't even use a figure of speech now without you questioning it?"
"Of course not. I mean, you saying you can see someone's true colours is like a blind person saying they see someone's point. It doesn't work."
I slowly shook my head. "Terrible jokes, Carys. Terrible."
"How many people do you think I've now offended?"
"Only the entire blind community."
"Sorry blind community! But... my joke was slightly funny."
"Nope. Not at all."
"I totally saw a small smirk."
"No you didn't."
"A tiny one?"
"Nope."
"Oh, c'mon!"
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
To be honest, my story gets a little boring from here. Harley made a regular habit of showing up every Monday, asking me for a pen, sometimes sitting next to me on the bus (on the days he made it that far in), and managed to achieve a D for the first term.
But nothing progressed beyond that.
We didn't become closer. I didn't learn much about him. I barely even spoke to him except for a "Hi" as he sat next to me on the bus. In fact, the moment he took the seat behind me in English, I would already be leaning around to pass him a pen—one that I now got back at the end of the lesson.
I thought, though, as each week passed and Monday came again, maybe the next time I looked up as he arrived late to class, this time when we shared a small smile he'd be a little bit dimmer. That my heart wouldn't still thud to the beat of a drum solo. But it was wishful thinking.
Everything was just as vibrant. The hues were always beyond my wildest dreams, and Harley was saturated in all my pent up affection I had been dying to feel for someone after endless consumptions of cheesy romance stories from the safety of my home all these years.
In some ways, the sparseness of our interactions were my beacon of light each week—something to look forward to. He would forever be the boy I adored from afar and revelled in his colour, never getting to know him, thus never letting anything spoil this fever dream of mine.
And I was almost content with that.
Until the second term rolled around.
Harley started showing up every day, and a part of me wondered if perhaps he was starting to get his life together, contradicting every warning Carys had given me. And perhaps, with the few more smiles we got to share, that something more might form between us.
But eventually the whispered rumours reached my ears as to why Harley was coming... And every ounce in me wanted to deny it as my heart dropped to the floor.
Though how could I deny it any longer, when, seated next to Carys on our second week back, across the school yard I watched Harley wrap his arms around some girl, perfect and flawless in every way.
Maybe they're friends, my last bit of hope whispered to me.
Though that hope quickly fluttered away as he leaned down and gave her a very public kiss, leaving no more room for doubt... No more room for dreams.
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