ANNOUNCEMENT: Blue Star—Logan's book—is now being published on Radish Fiction! Make sure to check it out!
Also, we have about 5 more chapters before Blues ends here on Wattpad...
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I’ve always been convinced that blue harmonizes well with Winter.
Both are aesthetic and poetic, always accompanied with an aptitude of attracting eyes and admiration. Only when you attempt to fasten your attention on what lies beyond that beauty, you see more of it.
You find cold.
That aloof, gelid trait that makes you crave a warm cave. Somewhere to placate your frost with its tepidity and love. Somewhere that’s capable of turning the blue into a kaleidoscope.
But now that he’s gone, I’m homeless, cold and blue.
It feels like since I’ve lost his presence in my life, the temporary relish he was giving me is gone, and now I’m back to square one.
It’s the running that used to help the days pass. I’ve learned that the faster you run, the slower your calvary becomes. And oh boy, was I good at running. But now, the faster my feet slap against the pavement, the swifter the thoughts come, beclouding my acuity. And in no time, physical pain joins the emotional one, and just like that, I lose my last solace.
Unable to keep going, I stop, bending to brace my hands onto my knees, my chest blisteringly heaving. I close my eyes for a brief moment, needing to block out reality for a while, the loud swing music in my ears doing a louche job at obstructing the loud car horns. I sigh, remembering how different Seattle is from Tacoma.
Just as I open my eyes and start to straighten up, my eyes behold a pair of legs directly positioned in front of me, feet clad in pink Nike sneakers. I allow my eyes to travel higher, curious to see the demoiselle who owns them, before I inwardly groan when I find myself ambushed by no one, but Cheryl, who is peering at me with narrowed, queer eyes. “Long time no see, little doll.”
“I’m not a doll.” I state, respiring.
“But you are little.” She remonstrates, planting her hands on her hips. “Miss me?”
“Is that a tricky question?” I raise one eyebrow.
The side of her mouth ticks, before she rolls her eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase then. Where is he?”
“Who?”
She huffs. “Is there another he we both know?” She asks, looking at me like I’m the most obtuse person on planet Earth. “Dylan, of course.”
Upon mentioning his name, it feels like my heart stops for a moment, before my heartbeats proliferate, my whole body stiffening up, which I regret when my aching muscles protest. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him. He no longer attends, and when I asked Trent, he weaseled out of my question. Like Trent, Alexa has become indrawn when it comes to Dylan, and last week when she made it clear that he doesn’t want her to talk about him with me, I learned that there’s no hope for us.
“I don’t know. We broke up.” I answer, and no matter how hard I try to divest my voice of any emotions, it still comes out doleful.
YOU ARE READING
Blues
RomanceCandice Woods is not your normal freshman. She's a survivor of a dreadful past that she'll do everything in her power to conceal. Her earthshaking dreams are her motivator, and love is her absolute enemy. Until her life gets turned upside down the m...
