Halfway Between Red And Magenta

Chapter Two (Elijah)

A/N: Media = Elijah! Wootwoot!

            The first thing I notice about the girl is that she's incredibly cute.

Her initial reaction to opening the door has me trying very hard not to laugh. I've never seen anyone with quite a big a smile, her dainty nose contorted into a toothy grin, and her freckles dashed across her face like icing sugar over a cake. She's short— even on the doorstep, she's eye level with me, with these hazel eyes that blink at me in abrupt confusion. But the thing that's most obvious about her appearance is the rose-pink hair all the way to her roots, pulled up into two buns at either side of her head. Wisps of hair fall from them, cascading down the sides of her face like falling stars. To match, she's wearing a dark grey t-shirt with a constellation floating in the middle, and the slogan, "GEMINI FOR AN EYE" to match.

The second thing I notice is that I recognise her. It's Rosaria. The last time I saw her, I thought I'd never see her again.

My mouth quirks into a smile that I can't control, a mixture of relief and something else.

She stares at me, confusion and embarrassment settling into mortification, and she folds her arms behind her back. She sways a little on her feet, and her eyes flick from my face to the ground. She waits for me to speak.

Clearing my throat, I ask, 'May I borrow a charger?'

Another blink. Rosa tilts her head, and I wonder if she's warring inside with why I'm asking to borrow a charger. Quickly, I hold up my dead Iphone, the screen a blank.

'That was my alarm going off next door,' I explain, gesturing uselessly to my side. Rosa, bless her, pretends to follow where I'm pointing, in that polite way we British people do. 'I've only just moved in next door, and, I keep forgetting our alarm code. Everyone's out. I was going to try to ring my housemate to ask for the code...'

And I wave the phone, feeling increasingly stupid.

'Oh,' she says softly. Her hands unclasp, clasp again. Then she steps back. 'Come on in, I'll get you mine.'

She opens the door wider, and I walk up the steps into the house. The door closes with a small snap, and we're left standing in a dusty hallway with a dingy light. The rose-haired girl leads me to the first door on the right, and I'm surprised to find I'm standing in a bedroom.

I'm met by a wall of colour. There's a huge tapestry over her bed— a weaving of blue and purple and silver— alongside a kaleidoscope bedspread of stars and mountains and light. Across her walls are clippings and collections of photographs, meaningful quotes, and a bright yellow Rosie the Riveter picture over a desk. On the other side, a portrait of a pink-haired smiling girl is an exact likeness of the tiny girl blinking up at me. She follows my gaze, and a secret smile spreads across her lips.

'Daya painted that for me,' she says, looking admiringly at it. 'She painted it while I was in...while I was away.'

I look around as she says that sentence. I can tell from the haltering that she's omitted some information, but it's not hard to guess what. Everyone knows Rosa was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Everyone knows that's why she missed a year.

Rosa, one of the smartest students in our year, who had always, always beaten me on our examinations...I'd graduated with the slight feeling I'd cheated. Like a world when I graduated without one of my biggest rivals— albeit one that probably doesn't know who I am— didn't exist.