When Two Ends Meet//LRH

7

I envision my future to be far from perfect in the most perfect way. What I mean is, instead of a mansion in California, I'd have a small apartment in New York. Instead of a cute little family of 4, I'd have a family of sorta 3. Me, My boyfriend because I don't want to get married, and of course my French bulldog puppy. That's all I'll need and I'll be able to get by. I could work at a supermarket just up the street and it will be enough. I could picture myself scribbling all my thoughts on paper. It's a hobby really. In my room I have maybe 1/7 of my wall that isn't covered of ripped, crumpled and taped up pieces of paper, post it notes, toilet paper, napkins etc. The other girls always get mad. I've always wondered if people from school saw, what would they think. They know me as the girl who struggles to write a sentence in English. Which, if being presented, I do. I don't want to say what I want to say and what I know that would get me a good grade because that isn't how people know me. I'm not afraid of how they will think about me at all, but god damnit. I don't want people to get to know me all over again, because that's knowing what happened had an impact on me. What ever happened that is. I was stronger than that. When it's just me, I'm very open and don't pretend because who am I impressing? Me? I can handle myself.

"Hey swampers!" Dylan called out walking towards me on the sidewalk as I was walking home.

"Pardon me?" I chuckled.

"Huh?" He says looking at me as if an alien came and brainwashed me in front of his eyes. My heart starts pounding and my face becomes flush.

"I mean." I say breathing slightly heavy and hearing my heart beat. Thud. Thud. "What did you call me fuck face?" He looks at ease now. Thank god.

"Swampers. Get it? Because I said your eyes look like a swamp?"

"Ha. Yeah I do. Hilarious." I say sarcastically as I, again, let out a chuckle. He gives me another worrisome, confused glare. It's the fucking giggle, Amelia. The voice rang in my head. Why is it so prominent today?

"Why is bitchy getting all soft all of a sudden? You good? You high?"

"Nah. I'm just in a good mood today." I state as if it's nothing. He believes me. I'm pro at this game.

"Well, babe. Heroine does wonders to you." He laughs acting as if he doesn't believe me. But like I said, I'm a master at emotion hiding. He doesn't know a thing.

I see Luke waiting at the bus stop just a little bit ahead of me and Dylan. I can fucking see the blue in his eyes from here. Nasty. Primary colours are just dumb. Like I don't understand how one thing can make up a thousand. Red, blue, yellow. I guess that's kinda ironic because I chose the name Amber Rose but I don't despise red and yellow as much as blue. And it can be explained in 1 word. Well, one word that leads to a bunch of others and a lifetime of sorrows. Look at that. I guess the primary colours make sense after all.

That word is Cobalt. Let me introduce myself. My name is not Amber Rose and my last name just so happens to be Cobalt.

"I'll see ya later Dyl." I say as I start approaching Luke faster.

"Dyl? I get it! Because green is like a Dill pickle!" He almost cries of laughter at his own stupid joke.

"No it's cause your name is Dylan." I say with an equal amount of nostril flare, attitude, sarcasm, and hesitance that fades out towards the end.

"That's more like you Colly." I cringed at that nickname the whole school of jocks called me.

"Don't you fucking under-"

"Is bitchy better?" He interrupts.

"Much." I reply, again, with attitude.

As I stand next to Luke I know for a fact. The primary colours make sense. They are capable of changing the entire spectrum. I whispered a goodbye to the voice in my head.