It Hurts | ✓

Chapter 3

When I reached Riley's house on Monday, I was informed by her dad that she was ill. Damnit. Me and Riley didn't do ill. Ill meant leaving the other one alone to the mercy of school. And we tried not to do that to each other.

When I arrived at school alone, the hallway was crowded as usual. I pushed my way through like everybody else. And then colour exploded in front of me. I was dazzled by it, but just as soon as it had appeared, it drained. I had obviously just brushed past his shoulder. I turned my head, and sure enough, George was in the hallway like everyone else, shoving his way through. I wondered how that had never happened before yesterday, because that was the first time seeing the colour. What were the odds that I were to brush past him in the packed hallway after every single period at school?

I longed for the explosion of colour again. I realised I could just keep bumping shoulders, or brushing past him in the hallways. I could do that, and see the colour way more often. Because how else would I ever see it again?

The plan failed miserably.

I mean, at first, it worked. If I were to see him in the crowd, I'd shuffle over a little bit so that I would just about touch shoulders or something. Four explosions of colour I got, before George suspected something. At fifth period one day, just before the end of the schoolday, I was at my locker, when George came up to me.

"You're doing it on purpose," he whined.

"Doing what on purpose?"

"You wanna see the colour again, don't you?" No point playing stupid.

"Yeah," I said quietly.

Stupid Callum then joined us. He threw his arm jokingly around George.

"Why are you talking to her?" He scoffed. George shrugged him off.

And then stupid Mirella joined them too.

"Ew, yeah, George. Why are you talking to her?" She linked her arm with George's and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. I wanted to be sick.

"Read the necklace, Mirella. As far as I'm aware, yours is still around your neck," he responded, sounding bored. He shrugged her off too.

She glared at him.

"You're saying you like her?" Callum exclaimed.

"Course not," George replied quickly.

"Mmkay, I'm gonna go," I said, and ducked my head and went under George's arm, which was resting on a locker and in my way, and then continued walking away. I considered brushing the top of my head against his arm when I ducked under it, just to see the colour one more time, but that seemed too obvious.

Who gave a crap about obvious, I did it anyway.

The world looked so much better in colour. I knew I didn't like George, but the way he said 'course not', really quickly, making it sound almost fake, made me think. Was it a lie? Did he like me? Society said the answer was no, what with him not seeing the colour. But society had deemed us to lonely lives, and that wasn't our faults. We'd heard stories of people who broke the rules and went against your love life fate. Some people dated and even married when they weren't deemed to be soulmates. Some people got away with it. It could happen.

Why was I thinking about that? I definitely did not like George. I didn't like him at all. I didn't like the way he was so popular. I didn't like the way he was athletic, handsome, and smart.

Hang on, did I just say handsome, athletic and smart?

Trust me, I do not mean it like that. I have to face it, he isn't bad looking. He's good at sports, and in class. It just doesn't mean that I like that in any way. I don't. It bugs me.

•~•~•~•

I phoned up Riley after dinner.

"Hey," I began.

"I've heard. I've heard I've heard I've heard."

"How?" I shouted.

"Well I heard from Aimee, so Kacey probably told her."

"Bloody hell, Kacey." I said.

"Well, your sister has a right to tell my sister everything about you."

"What kind of a rule is that?" I laughed.

"No but seriously, George Palmer? As in it's actually George?"

"Well the pendants matched together, the quote was correct, and I saw it."

"You saw the colour? Oh my gosh! What was it like?" Riley squealed.

"It was amazing. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Lucky."

"No! Not lucky! It's George Palmer!"

"But seeing the colour means you'll eventually like him. So you will eventually end up together."

"But he didn't see it," I said quietly.

"Oh. Oh, Amber. I'm sorry, sweetie. It'll be okay. You don't need a soulmate, really, do you? I thought you didn't want one?"

"I didn't. But it's just the colour. I want to see that again so badly."

"I know you must do. When Aimee first came home after seeing it, she was ecstatic. She wouldn't stop talking about it."

"Same with Kacey."

"Sisters are annoying like that," Riley stated.

"So did Ollie," I chuckled.

"I guess siblings in general then," she laughed. I appreciated her trying to lighten the mood.

"I gotta go now, Amber, sorry. I'll see you later, though."

"Yeah. 'Kay, see you."

•~•~•~•

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt, not of the colour, but of George Palmer. It was black and white, which told me I wasn't thinking about the colour anymore. Why would I be thinking about George, not linked with the colour? Ew. I wouldn't.
But apparently I was.

"Do you see it too?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's beautiful."