Live in Color

thirteen - violet

"That ones ugly," Jericho says, pointing to the screen.

My mouth drops open in shock, "It is not ugly, Jericho!"

"It doesn't even look like a dog, it looks like a walking pompom."

I groan and drop my head in my hands. Somehow, by a miracle, after four years of begging, my parents are letting me get a dog. My mom says it's because I've proven 'responsible' from 'how well I handled the breaking in and vandalizing' situation while my dad says it's a late birthday present since I wasn't really thinking about a dog those few months ago. Frankly, I don't really care why I'm getting one- all that matters is I'm getting one and that is enough to make me beyond excited.

Right now I'm looking through different breeds to see which one I want to get. It's fourth period, so Jericho is in my class. When I told him I was getting one the first thing he said was that I better get a Labradoodle or he'll never talk to me again. He's been convincing me to get one ever since by sitting beside me, looking through the breeds with me, and saying no to each one.

"That's what makes it cute!" I counter his previous argument, gesturing to the picture of the Pomeranian.

"Why do you want a small dog anyway? A Labradoodle is the perfect size," Jericho says.

"I'm not getting a Labradoodle!"

"Why not?" Jericho practically whines, opening the Google Images tab where he had searched up pictures of the dog. "Look at them! Look at them, Natalie."

They're pretty adorable, I have to admit. I sigh, conflicted. "...I don't like poodles though!"

"Don't blame them for their parents! Just because I might not like Cole's mom doesn't mean I have to pass the hate onto Cole!" Jericho tells me.

"You don't like Cole's mom?"

Jericho groans in exasperation, "I give up."

I simply laugh and go back to the tab on my phone where I was looking through different breeds. Jericho ducks his head down and goes back to doing the work assigned. The classroom is filled with light chatter making for an actually pretty nice atmosphere. I stop at an image of a Yorkshire Terrier, asking him, "What about this one?"

"Ugly," Jericho says without even looking up.

I roll my eyes and go back to searching through the breeds. When I look back at Jericho, his arms are folded on the desk with his head laying on them, amber eyes watching me flip through the different images. He looks exhausted, as he always does. There's still that small bit of sadness in is his eyes that there usually is but the past few days since the breaking in he's actually been pretty happy. At least the happiest I've ever seen him since I've met him- I don't really know how happy he can be, but I really hope it's enough to make the sadness in his eyes vanish completely.

"What about a greyhound? One of my friends back in middle school had a greyhound."

"They seem so breakable and skinny," he says as he looks at the picture.

"I'll make mine fat!"

Jericho looks mortified. "I pity whatever dog ends up with you."

I slap his arm, turning my head away when I feel the shocks that it sends up my arm. Any touch with him, no matter how small, manages to do that. Jericho doesn't look fazed- I wonder if he even experiences the same feelings as I do. I hope he does, I'd feel pretty alone in this if he didn't.

"Shouldn't you do research on a dog before you buy one?" Jericho asks me. "Like, their personality and how the adapt to environments?"

I frown; I hadn't exactly thought of that. "Um."