Seven Shades of You

by Johnson, A. M.

  Indigo

  Large crowds usually made me nervous. Navigating in a tiny space, even worse. I tended to hide against a wall, or disappear in a corner. Today was no different. The small art gallery on campus was overflowing with students, faculty, and even a few art aficionados from Portland. The Junior and Senior Showcase was a collection of handpicked talents, and the fact that my three paintings were hung on the wall next to some of the most amazing work I’d seen, beyond my parents, was overwhelming. Today I couldn’t hide. Today I had to stand in my little black dress, Imogen’s idea, with my hair down, like a golden beacon, and I had to stand alone.

  My parents couldn’t afford the drive down, and Royal and Kai had a swim meet. Camden would be here soon, though. His class ended at five, and as I wiped my clammy palms down the soft fabric of my dress, I gave shy smiles to the curious attendees as they passed. They mumbled their opinions as if I wasn’t right there, standing with my heart on the wall.

  “Interesting use of color.”

  “So dark.”

  “Did you see what she did with the blue… it’s hard to look at.”

  “I love it, it makes me uncomfortable.”

  I love it, too, I wanted to say, but I was struggling to keep my voices in check. At times not knowing which was real. Was it the witch whispering her disapproval, or were the words really coming from the people around me. Large crowds were noisy, distracting, making it easier for my anxiety to reach chest-tightening proportions.

  “What was your inspiration?” a young man with a warm smile asked as he stopped in front of my exhibit.

  I didn’t dare look into his eyes, nervous and unsure of myself, I turned and faced my paintings.

  “Honestly,” I said, “each piece has its own inspiration.” I pointed to the first one. “This one started as an experiment.” The man’s light laugh gave me confidence. “But then it became something more. I wanted to create something that fought the norm of shape and line.”

  “You succeeded.” Facing him again, his eyes devoured the canvas. He had on a black, button-down shirt, tucked into jeans and an expensive-looking watch. I couldn’t gauge his age. He seemed older, but could easily be around Kai’s age, as well. “This one.” He stepped closer, looking up at the center painting. “It’s angry.”

  The middle piece was the most personal, but I didn’t tell him that. The dark blue slash down the center unveiled that sleeping monster inside me, and I hoped, by giving it life on the canvas, it would stay there, live and breathe outside of me.

  Feigning indifference and keeping it light, I said, “I painted it during a break-up.”

  “Then you’re single?”

  If I was better at social situations, I could have maybe harmlessly flirted to be polite, but I was already chewing the corner of my lip with nerves, uncomfortable with the attention, and stumbled over the truth. “I have a friend… a boy…” I stuttered on a laugh. “I have a boyfriend.” My cheeks were hot as he stared at me with a smile that made me think he didn’t care if I had a boyfriend or not, like I’d just given him a challenge.

  “He’s not here…”

  “Sorry I’m late.” Camden, a bit out of breath, swept in, taking my hand in his, he kissed my cheek.”

  Relief washed over me as the man’s smile evaporated. “The boyfriend?” he asked.

  Camden was about to interject, but I clasped his hand and said, louder than necessary, “Yup. He’s my boyfriend. I mean, yes, this… this is my boyfriend, Camden.”

  I gave Camden a wide look, praying he would understand, and that his lack of social prowess, for once, would not hinder him. The confusion on his face faded as he nodded his head. He kept a tight grip on my fingers, not taking the stranger’s offered hand to shake and said, “I’m the boyfriend.”

  The man let his arm fall to his side, not giving Camden another glance, he asked me, “Are these for sale?”

  “No,” I said too quickly and the corner of his lips fell into a flat line. “I’ve never sold anything before,” I admitted.

  I didn’t think I could. Especially not the middle one… but in keeping it, I’d have a constant reminder of what I almost loss, off that thing inside me, ready and waiting.

  “That’s too bad,” he started, but I cut him off.

  “How much?” I asked, and I heard Camden clear his throat.

  The man slipped his hands into his pockets. Ignoring my question, he admired the last painting. “Why red?”

  The last painting was a monochrome of red. Red for love. For the way Kai made me feel when he touched me, kissed me, told me I was beautiful and perfect and his.

  I shrugged, keeping my secrets, and lied, “It’s my favorite color.”

  He pulled out his wallet and handed me what looked like a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills. “Nine hundred… I think three a piece is reasonable.”

  I stared at the cash in my hand. “Nine-hundred dollars?”

  He laughed again, incredulous. “Yes.”

  “Do you really want to sell them, Pink?” Camden whispered, and I met his worried gaze. “Maybe think about it, talk to your dad?”

  The money was heavy in my hand, everything I’d worked for these past two semesters was worth more than nine hundred. Everything Kai and I had been through bled across those canvases. I folded the bills and handed them back.

  “Thank you, it’s a generous offer, but they’re not for sale.”

  Disappointed, his smile was forced. “I understand.” He leaned in, reading the white sign with my name on it. “I’ll keep an eye out for more of your work in the future. You’re very talented, Miss O’Connell.”

  I thanked him again, my heart beating a thousand miles an hour as he walked away.

  “I didn’t want your paintings hanging in his house.” Camden let go of my hand, and I smiled at his irritated scowl.

  “Why?”

  “He seemed… slimy?”

  Bumping my hip into his, I said, “At some point I’m going to have sell my work, and I don’t think I can afford to care if the buyer is slimy or not.”

  “Not today, though.” Camden’s lips parted into a grin.

  “Not today.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, his face lighting up as he swiped his thumb over the screen.

  “Did Royal win?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.

  He didn’t even look at me. Raising his eyes to the center of the room, his smile came alive. I followed his gaze, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered awake. Royal and Corbin and Dev were weaving through the crowd. I kept looking, waiting to see where Kai was, waiting for him to immerge, but by the time they made it to where I was standing, I realized, with a gnawing, sinking feeling, he wasn’t with them.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked my brother as he folded me into a hug.

  Royal made it, and my friends… warmth bloomed in my chest as the sting of emotion pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I was proud I didn’t ruin my mascara.

  “I might’ve lied, our meet was this morning in Rockport. We wanted to surprise you.” Royal stepped back, giving his teammates a turn to hug me, too.

  “This shit is fancy, Pink.” Corbin glanced around the room. “We should have worn our suits.” He gave Dev a dirty look.

  “What? How was I supposed to know this thing would be formal? She’s always covered in paint. You can’t get more casual than overalls, man.” Dev looked down at his jeans and button-up with a frown.

  “You could have shown up in your swimming trunks and I wouldn’t have cared. You guys came… Thank you.”

  Corbin draped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me toward him, he said, “Aw, Pink, we wouldn’t miss this. You’re our best cheerleader.”

  “What about Camden?” I asked and they laughed.

  “He’s alright, I guess.” Dev smirked, and I loved the blush that bloomed on Camden’s cheeks.

  Corbin and Dev scanned the room, commenting more on the women than the art, when I leaned in and wh
ispered into Blue’s ear, “Where’s Kai?”

  “His dad was at the meet today.”

  “He was?” Allowing hope to fill my tone, I asked, “How did it go, I mean, did they—”

  “Talk? Yeah… Kai went to Orchard House with him, and said he’d try his best to get here before it ends.”

  Kai and his father had been attempting to work through their differences after his mother was admitted to Orchard House. The facility offered grief counseling and they had gone to a few sessions together. Kai had been hesitant at first, but when his dad made an actual effort to get him to go, Kai gave in, hoping that his dad would really be there for him and his mother this time. Even though the path they treaded was rocky, at least they had chosen to walk it. Together.

  My phone was in my purse in the back room of the gallery, and I was internally kicking myself for not keeping my phone with me. I wanted to text him. Tell him not to rush. To stay with his family because it was way more important for him to build his bridges than to come here and stand with me in front of paintings he’d seen already, every night in their evolution.

  “Text him and tell him not to worry about it, if he makes it great, if not, that’s fine, too,” I said and Royal pulled out his phone.

  The guys made their rounds, and the crowd dwindled a bit. My feet were killing me from standing in one place, and even though Professor Hintz had said we could mingle, I was fine staying in my own little bubble. Another twenty minutes passed, and I itched to get outside, to take a breath of air that wasn’t saturated with overly expensive men’s cologne. Pulling my hair over one shoulder, I offered Royal a small smile from across the room, and sighed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket for the fifth time since he’d been here and steered himself toward me through the sea of people.

  “Want to take a break? Step outside for a bit, Pink.” His twin intuition must have alerted him, and like he usually could, he’d read my mind.

  “I think I will.”

  “Come on.”

  Camden was talking with one of the professors and waved at us as we headed toward the front door.

  “Let me rescue Camden, meet you outside?”

  “Sure.”

  He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “See you in a minute.”

  The tips of my toes ached, the small, strappy heels I had on were too high, and I wished for my Converse as I made my way through the room, smiling as I went despite the pain. People smiled back, parting for me as I moved, nodding with recognition, though none of them were familiar. I was caught up, in my head, thinking about if this was what my life would be like if I continued to pursue being an artist. Parties and galas and exhibitions. Heels and dresses. Would I get to be me? Would I get to be comfortable in my own culture? I was wrapped up in all the questions, and as I opened the front door, I didn’t see him at first.

  The setting sun warmed my arms, the wet breeze rich with pine, filled my lungs. I’d closed my eyes, cleansing myself of the room, and when I opened them again, he was there.

  It was straight out of a movie, Kai leaning against his car, dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved, hunter green Henley. His chocolate hair needed to be cut, but I loved the way it hung over his forehead. His jaw was shadowed with a day’s worth of stubble and I knew exactly how it would feel against my lips, rough and perfect. He had a bouquet of pink roses in his hands, his dark coffee eyes captured me as the gallery door closed. Kai’s smile reeled me in.

  My hair caught in the breeze, and the long tendrils drifted, tickling my shoulders as his strong hand claimed my waist. “You look beautiful,” he said, handing me a half-dozen roses wrapped in a pink bow at the stem.

  “I didn’t think you were coming.” I reached up to kiss his lips.

  Just as I hoped, his chin was raw against my skin, his lips soft and the contrast made me dizzy with heat as his tongue tasted mine.

  Kai smiled against my mouth. “Are you surprised?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, unable to keep my lips off of his.

  “I thought about bringing a cake for us to kiss over, but figured I’d save that for your birthday.”

  I laughed, shoving him in the chest. “I knew you liked the movie.”

  He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth, suppressing his smile. “You didn’t really give me a choice.” Kai shrugged as I smelled my flowers. “I liked The Breakfast Club better.”

  “I think I can be okay with that.” I threaded our fingers together, placing another light kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Don’t be, I’m glad you got to spend time with your family.”

  I didn’t miss the way the light darkened in his eyes. “It’s touch and go.”

  “He showed up today, though.” I gently squeezed his hand, and he exhaled.

  “He did.” Kai gave me a crooked smile, and my stomach flipped. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to talk about my hot, artist girlfriend who almost sold her paintings tonight for nine-hundred dollars.”

  I narrowed my eyes, biting back my smile. “I swear I have no privacy anymore between you and Camden and Royal…”

  He chuckled. “Royal still doesn’t know about our swim lessons.”

  “I get one whole thing to myself,” I teased.

  “You get to have me all to yourself.” His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, running his fingers through my hair with his other hand. Kai’s smile radiant as he leaned down and kissed me with hungry lips.

  Breathless, I whispered, “All seven shades of you.”

  Three Years Later

  It was the first Christmas I could remember that it hadn’t snowed. The sky was cloudless and endless as I stared through the large studio windows. My father next to me, and in our silence we spoke to each other, knowing the other’s quiet movements, we breathed.

  “Do you think it will snow tomorrow?” I asked, my eyes lingering on that infinite blue.

  “I hope not.” Dad smiled despite his anxious tone. “I don’t know why the hell your brother thought it would be a good idea to get married the day after Christmas.”

  “You know why,” I said and turned to face the studio door. “Camden has the hardest time during the holidays. This is Royal’s way of making it about them, and not about the parents who chose to abandon their son.”

  “I always had hope his father…”

  “I think we all hoped.”

  “He’ll always have us.”

  I could hear my family laughing in the other room, my cousins, Ava and Quinn, arguing over who had the better football team, St. Peter’s or Washington Heights. Camden was probably hiding on the couch, grateful he’d graduated before the other half of the O’Connell clan had infiltrated St. Peter’s College. Our family was loud and touchy, and as much as he liked to pretend he was annoyed at times with our overzealous love for one another, he was always there for it. Like me, quiet, in the background, with a smile that whispered, ‘I love you, too.’

  We were family.

  All of us.

  And now Kai and I…

  I exhaled a long breath and my dad noticed.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked, and my throat closed on the words I was afraid to say.

  “Indie…” Kai called out as he walked into the studio. “I think your Uncle Kieran is about to pop a blood vessel.”

  My dad laughed. “Kieran?”

  “Yeah, Ava just told him she’s dating the Silver Wolves’ quarterback.” Kai laughed as he snuck his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his chest, his hands resting over my belly.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and the heat of his hand, protective over my stomach, made the burn in my eyes real, made the words I needed to say that more present.

  You’ll fail.

  “I won’t,” I whispered and hoped no one noticed.

  I wasn’t that fortunate. Dad rubbed his beard through his palm, his perceptive gaze holding mine as he said, “Talk to
me.”

  Kai pulled me a little closer. “Declan…”

  “Dad.”

  Kai and I both tried to speak at the same time and my dad chuckled.

  “Sorry, baby.” Kai leaned down, whispered in my ear. “Go ahead.”

  Dad waited me out, waited as I found my courage, holding my hands over the top of Kai’s, I said, “I know it’s not ideal… but Kai got a great review this semester from the head of the Art Department and they’re giving him a full-time job.”

  “Adjunct professor while I work on my masters,” Kai added.

  “And it will be hard, I know… with my senior year and everything, but I think we’ve figured out all the kinks,” I said.

  “They offer married housing.” Kai spoke, and I could hear the nervous edge in his voice.

  “Married?” Dad asked, a little too calmly.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted and felt Kai’s intake of breath.

  We both waited for my dad to say something, anything. He was sifting through his own voices. Worry. Anger. Surprise. Trying to figure out which uncertainties were valid, and which were the fabrications of his own brain.

  He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes, iced and sharp, focused on Kai.

  “Dad?”

  “I was going to ask her…” Kai’s voice was thick, and I wished I could see his face. “To marry me before we found out. It’s not about the baby.”

  “The baby.” My dad’s eyes fell to my stomach.

  “My mom told me I’d be crazy not to marry this girl the day she met her. And a part of me wishes I would have asked her before my mother…” Kai’s voice cracked. He waited a few seconds before he spoke again, his tone sure and brave, and my lips broke into a wet smile as he said, “I love your daughter, and I’ll love this baby. And if I learned anything at all from my mom before she died, it was that you never know how long you have. Years, months, and I hadn’t started living until I met Indie, and I don’t want to stop.”

  Kai loosened his hold around my waist, his hand lacing through mine, I looked up at his handsome face. Beautiful in his stark truth, bold as if he dared my father to doubt him.