A Touch of Colour

By ThoseThreeWords

985 117 12

Indigo Forrest has always found her name a little ironic--mostly because she can't even see the colours that... More

About this Book
Synopsis
•°❃•PART ONE: Saturated•❃°•
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
•°❃•PART TWO: Washed Out•❃°•
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
PART 3: GREYSCALE
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39

Chapter 7

35 2 0
By ThoseThreeWords

For some reason, I was actually hopeful he'd be there the next day. Like, somehow, our chat would have instilled a reason for him to come... that maybe I'd be a reason to come.

But my English class third session had an empty spot behind me the whole lesson.

And the bus was free of him when I got on.

And the days rinsed and repeated the same narrative.

"Your pining is on another level," Carys said to me on Friday as, once again, I scanned the ground for a sight of him. We didn't have English today... So my only chance to see if he came was at lunch or on the bus.

"I'm not pining," I mumbled.

"Oh yeah? Then what would you call it?"

"I just... You wouldn't understand because you've always seen colour. But now that I have the option, I just want to keep—"

"Looking at him?"

"Not exactly at him, but the colour, yeah."

"I'm starting to think colour and crush are cut from the same cloth with you."

"My gosh, Carys. No. You're just assuming all this because he's a guy. What if it were a girl in colour?"

"Same thing. I'd be assuming it was time for you to come out."

I rolled my eyes in response and chugged my chocolate milk in the silence... well, my silence. Carys continued to yap on.

"I just think the coincidence of this boy being in colour and him being quite the womaniser from what I've heard is just... well, not believable as a coincidence."

Though I continued to ignore her as I tightened my lid on my drink and went to throw it in the bin.

But the moment I sat down, "Have you had a crush on anyone before?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"I've... had crushes on celebrities."

"That's not the same and you know it."

"How?"

"Well, Harley is a real boy who is here, and celebrities—"

"You never see often? I've seen Harley twice. Not different."

"But he is in-person. You have spoken to him."

"And he's just as unattainable. So your conclusions here—"

"You haven't had a crush before though. That part I'm right on?"

Heaving a sigh, I nodded.

A triumphant smile stole her face as she leaned in. "It has to be related."

"For the millionth time, Carys, I'm not crushing on him. I don't even know him."

"Do you find him cute?"

"Who wouldn't? Even you said he's attractive."

"Do you think he's kind?"

I started to open my mouth to reply that of course he has been nothing but nice to me... but then the moment on the bus flashed through my mind. The one time his attitude was far from charming, the colour disappeared.

My stomach began to churn as I wondered if Carys had been right.

What if this colour thing was a connection to my feelings?

Was this all in my mind then?

"Indi? Earth to Indi?"

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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