Life in Color ✔️

29~ Great

It's been four days since Ashton found out about my parents.

It's been four days since he's talked to me. The fact that he isn't talking to Sage either should make me feel better. It doesn't.

Yesterday, Ella finally forced me out of his sweatshirt and into the shower. I didn't say anything as she brushed my hair and handed me new clothes. She tried to talk, telling me about Stella punching Avery for revenge. Reminding me that Ashton just needed time and that it'll pass.

I didn't answer her and she stopped talking. I use my ankle as an excuse to not do anything, knowing the rest is good for me but I still feel guilty. I tried to go downstairs for lunch and the twins forced me back into bed.

I wasn't really hungry to begin with.

It's seven o'clock now and Sage comes into my room. He looks nice in jeans and a shiny silver button up shirt. "You're sure you're ok if I go to this party?"

I forgot, it's New Year's Eve. Ashton and I were supposed to go to Gabes party.

"I'm positive." I tell him, smiling softly. Sage eyes me worriedly so I continue, "Go and have fun. I've got plenty to do here." I shake my now full sketch pad for emphasis.

He gives me a peck on the cheek.

"Just remember. No drugs. No alcohol. No stupid decisions. And if anyone has a sip to drink you drive. Understand?"

He nods stiffly, knowing how big of a deal this is for me to let him go. This is his first party by himself. He whistles, headed for the door. "Hey, Sage?"

"Yeah?"

For a moment I feel stupid for even wondering but I have to ask. "Do you know if Ashton's going to be there?"

The pity on my brothers face is enough for me to regret asking. "I don't know, Scar, probably not."

I say nothing as he heads out to Ella's car. The thing that stings the most is that Sage was right. I'm lost without Ashton.

A knock sounds at my door before Uncle John sits on my bed. "How you doin, Bean?" I forgot he was here. I notice he's in a button up and slacks, no doubt about to go to a party.

"Is he still ignoring your calls?" He prompts, for once not calling him a punk.

I pick at my thumb, "I stopped calling."

I called him for an hour straight, then I called him the next day. I got the message once they started going straight to voicemail.

Uncle John pats my hand, "Don't worry about him, things will work out for the best."

I scoff, nothing ever works out for me. I always manage to mess things up in the end. He leaves a few minutes later, understanding I'm not in the mood to say much else.

*****

I draw for a couple hours, eventually having to go to the bathroom. I debate calling one of the twins up to help me move downstairs but I remember Sams over. They deserve to have fun.

I struggle up and into the bathroom, my limbs stiff from sitting in bed for so long. I study myself in the mirror, shocked by how terrible I look. Purple and red stain my skin that's stretched thin over my puffy face. Now I understand why Stella left right after she saw me this afternoon, I'd leave too.

All I want to do is crawl into bed but on my walk back one of my crutches slip on something and I land on the floor with a thud. After a wave of pain passes I pick up what I slipped on. It's the book Ella made for Christmas, I study the black cover remembering how I threw it this morning after she left. This time I open it.