I'm going mad. What I saw, what I felt... That's not normal. Normal people don't do that. Normal people don't see that. I'm hallucinating or something. I must be. I excused myself from the school building, nobody ever noticed, anyways, and began my short walk home.
My ponytail swung from side to side with each step, accompanied by the crunch of autumn leaves, in every shade of gray you can imagine, that littered the sidewalk. Birds sang their cheerful echoes to each other, their chirps ringing out in the otherwise quiet neighborhood. I reached into my back pocket to send a quick text to my mom and explain to her that I wouldn't be in her class later.
Yeah, my mom's a teacher. Art. She loves it, too. It's one of the only things that make her truly happy. Honestly, I don't understand art, but I'm glad my mom has something.
Hey mom, I left school early. Not feeling too well.
Ok, Sweetie, see you at 4. I hope you feel better soon.
That's it. That's all she said to me. I mean, I'm not complaining, but a normal mom would question you for leaving school early. Mom hasn't been herself since Dad left, and that meant I literally had no rules. Her main focus in life was her teaching. Not that I would ever take extreme advantage of that. But still.
After laying down for awhile with Alabama purring on my stomach, I realized that I would not be able to think of anything else until I knew what was going on. I gently lifted Alabama off of me, and he mewed in protest. I planted a kiss on the top of his head before setting him down.
I retrieved my laptop from my bag. I wish I knew I better way to understand my problems without dragging other people into them. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I pulled up google and typed in hallucinations. Nothing sounded like my current situation.
I tried everything I could think of, and I was about to give up. Until I remembered what my mom had always told me. I put my cursor in the search box and typed blue.
Clicking on the first thing that popped up, I learned that blue was the color between green and violet on the optical spectrum of visible light. Whatever that meant. Curious, I googled color. The first site said Color is the eye's response to being in love. When you see colors, you have met your soulmate.
I gasped. Oliver Forman? My soulmate? I guess I could've gotten worse, but I barely knew the guy. But he said he didn't feel or see anything! But this website does give me confirmation that I'm not insane, and it does explain that little feeling in my stomach when he looked at me.
After spending the rest of the afternoon on Google, learning about this new discovery, I found that I was not alone. There were many girls out here just like me--worried that they aren't sane, scared that their so-called true love wouldn't feel the same way, and confused as to why they weren't told before.
I decided that if I want to see this so-called color again, I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. Literally.
***
I was dressed in what I thought was the best I could do: a simple dress--flowy, cuts off at the knees--that swished about my legs when I walked, with as much confidence as I could muster, down the halls that gave me claustrophobia. My pale hair, in a long plait, let some strands escape their woven prison to dance across my even paler skin.
As I slid into my seat in homeroom, I scanned the people around me to choose someone for my first experiment. If Oliver didn't see anything for me, maybe I can see the colors with other people. My eyes landed on the boy next to me. I had never noticed this boy before. Probably new. Perfect.
Ok, Rhea. Remember. Be obvious, yet classy. I giggled aloud at the thought of me being classy. Suddenly, I clapped my hands over my mouth and prayed that no one heard. People don't know much about me, but they know me well enough to know that I don't socialize, let alone have someone to make me laugh.
I should probably do this before class starts, I decided. I laid my pen on the edge of my desk. Pretending not to notice, I casually nugded it off with my elbow, sending it clattering to the floor. As I had planned on, the boy next to me bent to pick it up and asked if it was mine. I gave him my best "Who, me? Whoops!" look and nodded, reaching over to take it from his hand. Not bad-looking, I pointed out to myself in my head. I allowed my fingers to brush against his hand a little too long, glancing around the room to see if it had happened again. Nothing. The boy looked rather uncomfortable, so I took my pen back, muttered a quiet "Thanks," and faced the other direction, scowling out the window.
***
"Okay everyone, choose a partner."
No. She did not just say that. Why can't she just assign us partners? I started to walk up to my teacher, planning out how to ask this time. Most of the time teachers said no, but sometimes I got lucky.
"Mrs.--"
"No, Rhea. You can't work alone this time," she walked away before I could try to change her mind. I was hopeless. I barely have the courage to talk to teachers, let alone ask someone to work with me. How do I even..? I can't--
"Rhea, right?"
I turned around.
It's him.
Oliver.
Am I shaking?
I'm shaking.
Deep breaths.
"Oliver! Hi..." There was a long, awkward pause. "What's up?" Why is he talking to me? This never happens.
"Oh, right," he began. And then, "Doyouwantobemypartner?"
"Wait, slow down a bit. What?"
"Sorry," he looked disappointed. "Do you want to work together?"
"Oh." I glanced around the room quickly, hoping Oliver didn't notice. Everyone else had partners. There was no saving myself from embarassment in front of him now. I ran a hand down my long braid--a habit I had picked up that always seemed to visit me when I was nervous. "Sure!" Ugh. Rhea. Try to sound at least semi-cool. "Yeah. Why not?"
"Okay, great."
Another.
Long.
Pause.
"Well, um..."
"We should go sit down."
"Yeah." Don't screw this up, Rhea. "Yeah."
***
When I got the text from an unknown number asking if I wanted to come over to work on a chemistry project, I actually screamed. Alabama leapt off of my lap in terror, and then gave me an unamused look like he was asking me, was that really necessary? My only response to him was to pick him up and swirl him around in the air before I proceeded to blast music and happy-dance all around my room.
No outfit I tried on--no skirt, no scarf, no nothing--was good enough for this occasion. My room looked like a tornado had gone through it. Finally, after an hour's worth of debating, I settled on an adorable button-up blouse the same shade of gray--or blue--to match my eyes, paired with a wide belt, a white chiffon skirt, and leather ankle boots. I left my long hair down to frame my face and flow down my back in large waves.
Finally. I'm ready.
***
Our knees bumped under the table, and the world flickered from the grays to the strangeley beautiful color. Even if it was just for an instant, I caught another glimpse of his eyes. A vibrant combination of dark and light, which I now knew to be called green. Oh, I could get lost in his eyes--gray or green, it didn't matter. I--
"Rhea?"
I blinked. Ugh, I was doing it again. Oliver was staring at me now, but with that same look of concern from the day we met, not with admiration.
"Sorry. I'm just tired, that's all. So what were we doing againg?"
"Ok, so I feel like if we--"
The doorbell rang out, followed by a crisp, energetic knock at the door.
Oliver excused himself to answer it.
"HI, OLLIE!" a high pitched squeal erupted from the front of his house.
"Beth. What a... pleasant surprise." Great. It's Beth. Fun.
I heard a loud "mwah" and Beth's sickeningly sweet giggle followed by the clicking of heels drawing nearer and nearer to where I sat. Beth's voice sounded even closer now when she continued, "So, Ollie, what should we do toda--" She had fully entered the room now and she was staring at me, her perfect little nose wrinkled like I was some rotting, mangled animal carcass. A slightly annoyed looking Oliver trailed in behind her, rubbing at the dark lipstick stain on his cheek.
"Ollie?" She turned to face him, smiling at him angelically--only someone who could read people really well would know that that there was something less innocent underneath. "What is she doing here?"
"Just homework, Beth. Promise." His voice said I'm calm, but his eyes said SOS.
For some reason, I decided that this was the right time to speak up. "We're partners. We have tons of chemistry." Beth looked infuriated and Oliver flashed me a look of pure terror as I realized what I had just said. I tried to fix it, "P-partners for a chemistry project." I tried to laugh it off but all that came out was a shaky "H-heh..." and then I knew that it was probably time for me to stop talking.
"Chemistry, huh?" Beth was studying my every move.
"Yes, Beth. Just chemistry." I could tell he was desperate to find a way to make Beth happy. "You could stay while we finish if you want. We're almost done, I promise."
"No," Beth fished for her phone in her designer purse. "I should probably go." She unlocked her phone. "Daddy needs me at home anyways. He just texted me." Dropping her phone back into her purse, she smiled flirtatiously at Oliver, and left another lipstick mark on his cheek. "See you later, Ollie."
"I'll call you," he promised.
Giving me a look that could kill, Beth sashayed to the door. "Bye, Rebecca!"
I wasn't going to bother correcting her, but Oliver spoke up. "It's Rhea."
Beth huffed. "Well she looks like a Rebecca to me." And with a toss of her silky pale locks, Beth angrily sashayed out the door.
(Unfinished chapter)
