Matchbox

XI. Blue Isn't So Blue

Eleven. Blue Isn't So Blue

            Vera was a lost puppy.

   Steve had her by a leash, and he didn't even notice half the time.

The Wheeler House was relatively quiet, the group getting ready to disappear from the safety of the home. Vera was on edge and her skin was littered with chills, it felt constant. A constant variable.

  And from time to time she'd catch herself staring at the drying up cuts from the asphalt street she'd been shoved into just this morning (where she watched another one of her friends die).

She was silently walking down one of the halls, the walls littered with baby photos of the Wheeler kids. (Vera had never seen a baby picture of herself. Diane said she didn't have any. They all had been taken when Blue left.) Vera's gaze was on Steve, in front of her, and she watched the way his shoulders were tense and he seem to wince every now and then.

She could hear her friends heading out the front door and towards Nancy's car. Vera hurried over to Steve. Just a few steps. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, and he jumped at the sudden contact. Vera pulled the two into the bathroom of porcelain and gold accents.

Steve's eyes wide and glossy of curiosity lingered on Vera. "What's.. Whats up?"

The girl frowned gently. "Why are you wincing when you walk?"

For a mere second it looked like a child had been caught sneaking candy at midnight when everyone was supposed to be asleep. Steve cleared his throat gently. "Am not." Vera scoffed gently, arms crossing over her front defensively. "I can see you! Your shoulders are all tense and.."

Maybe Steve didn't want to argue on his well-being. Maybe Steve didn't want to lie that he was fine. Maybe Steve was a little tired of pretending to be okay all the time.

Vera's voice had faded off to nothing as she watched the boy gently pull off his jacket as he turned from her. Her lips were parted and she gasped as the boy pulled up his shirt with a struggle. How hadn't she figured it out? How hadn't she realized?