CHAPTER ONE
INDIGO
Getting broken up with sucks. I've only had to go through it once before, with my high school boyfriend, and we had only dated for seven months. In sophomore year. But this? This is way worse. Greer and I had been dating for the past two years. We had even considered moving in together not even a month ago, and then I get some lousy text saying we need to talk? And then, he just tells me he's done. Just like that. Two years gone — wasted. And he couldn't even wait another three weeks to go to the show case with me, knowing damn well that I need a plus one. What a dick.
My room is currently a mess. It looks like my closet and cosmetics drawer has thrown up everywhere. The lights are off, so only the glow of my makeup mirror light up the small area, casting a loom over everything, long shadows everywhere.
I can here Sadie on the phone down in the kitchen, her voice sharp and bossy. She's talking to her brother, which one, I'm not sure, but the way she's practically yelling gives it away. Probably Kolby. The twins are two years younger than her and I, starting their second semester of their Senior year in a whopping two days. Her and Kolby have always been closer, what with only eleven months separating the two of them.
I don't even realize she's stopped yelling until my door busts open, and there she is, standing in a halo of light, her blondish-reddish hair is nothing but a knot on the top her head, and she's in a pair of boxers and a tee shirt that's way to big for her. The front boasts Calum's football team — Kolby's shirt then.
"Hi," I say to her as a run the straightener through my hair for the second time. I love my mother, and the beautiful dark coils she and her African heritage gifted me, but sometimes I wish I had inherited her curves instead of her hair, because I've been at this for an hour now, and I've hardly made any progress.
Sadie smiles at me, her dimples appearing as she skips over to my bed, diving onto the mattress, grabbing one of my stuffed animals and using it as prop for her head. "I am officially the bestest best friend one could ever ask for," she says, tucking her fist under her chin.
I smile back at her in my mirror, concentrating on not burning my hair, hand, or neck.
Sadie makes a noise— something like a whine and a gasp, "Are you going to ask me why or not?"
"Hold on," I say, grabbing the last piece of hair left to straighten. I glide the straightener down it, following behind it with my brush. Once I'm done, I turn it off and lay it down on my desk, and then turn to fully face my bestest best friend. Ever.
Sadie waits on me, not-so-patiently. Her feet are wiggling behind her on the bed, but other than that, the only indication of her impatience is her wide eyes. "Ready?"
I nod, smothering a laugh as Sadie animatedly launches into her tale, "Ok, so, first I called Jess, 'cus Raya just dumped him — what a bitch, I'm kinda glad she's out of the picture now, I mean, she was always saying something about —."
"Sadie."
She blinks, and then resumes her smile, and her story, "Anyways, I figured he would be a good choice, ya know? Plus, he's a senior in high school, going out with an older woman would give him hella street cred, but he said he and Raya were going out tonight, too, and I quote, see if they can work things out." Sadie rolls her eyes, "Ugh, can you believe him?"
I arch a brow. Sadie likes to talk. I honestly think she could make a full blown conversation with a wall.
"So I'm not going with Jess, ok," I say, nodding my head, "So, assuming I'm going with one of the Bradford brothers, then, that leaves Drew and Kolby, so which one of them will be gracing my presence tonight?" I'm kind of hoping it's Drew, he's the quietest of the four of them, and of the three brothers, probably the one most likely to take the show case tonight seriously. He's not into art or anything, but he is good at reading a room, playing a part.
"Kolby," Sadie says, and I have to stop myself from frowning. I'm sure Kolby had other plans — he tends to be Mr Popular, what with being the starting linebacker for Calum's football team. Number twenty two, I've only missed six games since the start of his college career.
"Oh," I say, "What's Drew up to? I figured Kolby would have something better to be doing."
Sadie grins — there's two types of grins that Sadie Bradford produces, I've realized over the many years of our friendship. The first, her fake grin, the one used at her gymnastics' teams banquets, or when talking to her sorority sisters, and the second is borderline evil, reserved most often for her brothers. Sadie's the only girl her parents had, sandwiched between an older, overachieving brother, and the younger, private-school-attending twins. Her claim to fame is being an excellent gymnast, with an athletic scholarship to Calum, and the teams highest-scoring floorist and vaulter.
"Drew's grounded," she says lightly, though her smile (the evil one) betrays her act, "And Kolby did have better things to do, but I promised him you'd go to a bar with him after, and then drive him back home, safe and sound, preferably drunk."
Kolby's football season is officially over — so now all he has to stay sober for is the post-season training and practices, which are easily much less of a pain than pre or during season training, and besides, it's a Friday night, and even I know that Coach Emmons hates getting up any earlier than ten am on Saturday's.
I nod my head, "So two beers and I get to go home, sounds good to me." I slant my head to the left, "Drew is grounded?"
Again, Sadie's evil smile returns as she nods her head, her entire small body moving jerkily with it, "Get ready for this one —," she pauses, making sure my full attention is on her, "Dad found him balls deep in some girl a few nights ago — shush it gets better — on the counter!"
I slap a hand to my mouth, my eyes wide enough to probably fall right out of my head. Like I said, Drew is the quietest of the Bradford Brood, as I enjoy calling them, then again, everyone always says it's the quietest. "No shit."
Sadie giggles, "No shit. Mom made him clean the entire kitchen, floor to ceiling, twice. Kolb's and Jessie are having a field day." She shakes her head, almost solemn, "Poor kid can't go downstairs to get a drink without one of them asking if he did it against the fridge, or the wall, or on the sink, or anywhere else their filthy minds can conjure up."
I give her a pointed look. Sadie is no Virgin Mary by any means. Once, I came home to find her and her conquest had been too impatient to make the ten foot trek to her bedroom, and had gone at it like bunnies on our sofa. Our sofa, that I now refuse to sit on unless there's a blanket laid overtop it.
"Can it," she tells me, "I heard you and Greer, all the time."
Greer, my ex, and I, hadn't had sex in over a month and a half before he broke it off. I guess I should have seen it coming, he was practically sex on a stick in the early days of our relationship, and I know him well enough to know that he didn't turn into a prude overnight.
I shrug, "At least I was in my room."
Sadie opens her mouth to retort, but she's cut off my the shrill ringing of my phone from my desk. I lean back to grab it, on the screen is an awful candid of Kolby eating a hamburger, and his name is bold white letters flashing across the screen. I tap the green accept button, and then put him on speaker, a habit of mine I formed with Sadie from our long calls studying during high school.
Kolby doesn't bother with a hi, he never has, "What do I wear to this thing, anyway? S literally told me to avoid looking homeless. Like, jeans? Or slacks? Tee shirt or button down? God, I hate shit like this, you best be bank rolling my alcohol consumption tonight, Blue."
Much like his sister, Kolby could talk to a wall. "I will not be bank rolling any form of alcohol for you ever," I say, rolling my eyes, "I'm wearing a dress, so wear like khakis and either a polo or button down. With nice shoes, too."
"Really?" He says, he sounds further away, like he put his phone down and wandered into his closet, "'Cus I had been planning on wearing my Old Navy flip flops. They have palm trees on them, Blue, palm trees."
Sadie is a fit giggles on my bed, her face red enough to match the auburn streaks in her hair, "Don't call me that, Kolby."
"It's literally your name," he retorts, and I can almost see his little half smile.
"Really? Have you seen a birth certificate I haven't?"
"Nah, I just know my colors."
I glare at my phone, and even through the black screen I swear to all the holy things in the universe I can see Kolby perfectly — the dirty blonde mop he calls hair, his nose, slightly to the left, where he broke it when he was fifteen, his pale blue eyes, the soft smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, and the stubble on his chin — he's probably grinning ear to ear, knowing how I look right now. Red in the face, eyes narrowed, brows drawn together. We've only known each other for the past twelve years, no biggie.
"Your such a dick," I say, sighing as I gesture for Sadie to get lost so I can finish getting ready. She climbs off my bed with all of her well-honed grace, and shoves my clumsiness in my face by literally cartwheeling out the room. I flip off the doorway where she had just been as I turn to face my vanity, grabbing my tube of concealer.
"So you've said before," is his garbled reply. He says nothing for a nearly a full minute, the only sound on his side of the like rustling and the occasional mumbling to himself. "I'll pick you up in twenty," he says, and then disconnects. Much like his aversion to greetings, he doesn't give two shits about goodbyes either.