Color Me Pretty

by Celeste, B.

I wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t a firm kick to the chest. So, instead of telling him as much, I stared at his tense back and walked toward the door. He blocked my way, so I brushed past him just barely touching his shoulder with mine and jerked away when he reached out.

  Turning to look at him, I met his distant eyes and said, “For the record, you are the one who ruined this. Not me.”

  “Della—” He murmured. I heard the guilt in his tone, the regret. But I refused to figure out if it was genuine or not because it was hard to tell with him sometimes. He was more than just hot and cold. Moments ago, he’d burned me, and I welcomed it freely. But now? Now I felt the ice take over my veins because it was the only way to simmer the boiling blood that came with seeing his mask slip back into place. The one he wore when he realized he saw me as more than little Della.

  “If you really want to help me, figure out what you want without destroying everybody else. Okay?”

  I was proud for walking away. For not looking back. I wouldn’t let him tell me it was a mistake or that he regretted anything. Once was enough. Twice? I knew I wouldn’t handle it well. Not that the first time was anything I wanted to remember. I’d cried for a week remembering how he looked at me. That wouldn’t be now.

  And when a day passed and I heard nothing from him, I didn’t think about it.

  Or when another came and went.

  I took care of Ramsay after smuggling him back into my apartment, went to classes, and hung out with Ren like I was fine. Was I? No. But just like Theodore West, I was great at pretending.

  Chapter Nine

  Della

  The strong arms came from nowhere and threw me over a broad shoulder before I knew what was happening. Yelping, I grabbed onto a white t-shirt, probably with some sports logo on it, and tried balancing myself while the strong scent of lemon drops suddenly hit me.

  “Lawrence!”

  His laugh was deep as he spun us around. I was glad I opted not to wear a dress today like I had planned considering the heatwave we’d been experiencing as spring hit. It wouldn’t have stopped him from flashing my panties to everybody around us though.

  “Ren,” I complained, smacking my fists into his back. He only laughed louder and returned the favor. On my ass. Rolling my eyes as he set me down, I ignored the catcalls from people walking past us on the quad, recognizing some of his frat buddies and teammates. “Was that necessary?”

  “You ask that every time and the answer never changes,” he mused, pecking my cheek.

  He offered me his arm like nothing happened and I took it without second guessing it. “The Hut?”

  “Sure.”

  We walked side by side, weaving past groups of people who were talking in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’ve been unusually quiet lately. Don’t think I haven’t noticed just because I’ve been busy with practice.”

  “And Ben,” I teased.

  He knocked my shoulder with his. “He might be another distraction, but Coach is being his usual self to get us ready for the big game. You’re going right?”

  I snorted unattractively. “Don’t I always?”

  “You’ve been staying in a lot.”

  The pause was there, other people’s conversations filling in the temporary silence between us. I was about to come up with an excuse, one he’d probably see right through, when Tiffany appeared a few feet away as we neared the building housing our favorite hangout.

  My feet stopped, jerking Ren to a halt too. He looked at me with pinched brows, seeing my gaze on the blonde who was looking back. To my surprise, she lifted a hand and waved.

  “Who’s that?” Ren asked quietly, interest high in his tone. I didn’t miss the way his eyes checked her out in the tight leggings and shirt she wore, showing off her athletic body.

  “Someone I used to dance with.”

  His “ah” wasn’t as quiet as he looked her over again. Her eyes darted between us, but she didn’t walk over. I was glad there was no pressure to reach out to her. She was letting it be my choice just like she said, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel a little guilty about it since she was being kind.

  “Want to go say hi?” he asked next. We started walking slowly in that direction.

  Tiffany looked over her shoulder like somebody was calling her, so she lifted a finger and glanced back our way. I nibbled my lip and debated on what to say. Hi was usually a good place to start, but I knew Tiffany long enough to figure out she’d want to talk about more than the weather and how classes were going.

  She made the decision for me, backing toward the group of girls who must have been waiting for her. When her back turned, I realized my face must have given away anything I had to say. Which was little.

  Ren murmured, “Or not.”

  “It’s my fault. She was being nice to me last week and I didn’t reach out to her.”

  “Why not?”

  “She offered to help me with something.”

  “Dance?” he guessed.

  I eyed him.

  “You evade everything that involves it,” he said, chuckling over my expression. “I may not be the one with a perfect grade point average, but I’m not a total moron. It’s like anyone says the five-letter word and your eyes glaze over. Kind of like mine do when I see someone hot. Not like how we both look in math class.”

  That made me roll my eyes. I used to be a straight A student, but I fell behind when I took a few weeks off after news of my father hit. I hadn’t found the energy to study as much I used to. The look he was referring to wasn’t the first time I’d been told I had it. Judith had said I reminded her of herself because there was a longing in my eyes for dance, but since I’d walked away from it that longing had shifted. It wasn’t like I hated the profession. I respected people who trained hard and worked their asses off, and sometimes even envied them for doing it. “I’m still considering her offer. That’s all. I’m not sure I even have the time.”

  He opened the doors to the Hut and hauled me in with a chortle. “That’s the lamest excuse you’ve made yet, but I still love you. I can see you miss it. People should make time for the things they love.”

  I eyed him as he greeted a few of his friends who were already sitting off to the side. We’d probably wind up next to them where I had to listen to baseball stats, how much they hated their coach that day, and which parties they were going to next. I’d smile, nod, and laugh when I felt it was necessary while Ren stared at me knowingly. I never left though because, like he said, it was important to make time for things you loved. That included him.

  He squeezed my hand which I didn’t realize I’d slipped into his. “Your normal? Or are you feeling adventurous today?”

  “Your version of adventurous scares me, especially food related.” My nose scrunched over the thought of the food combinations he’d consumed. For years, it only took some silly dare before he’d eat something disgusting that churned my stomach.

  “Boring,” he teased, letting go of my hand to put in an order for us. I waited by the pickup counter while he flirted with the girl working the register. It made me shake my head because he’d been rejected by her twice already, but he didn’t care. I was pretty sure the other girl working was her girlfriend, so it was all innocent enough. A typical day in the life of Ren.

  I pulled out my phone to check a few emails while we waited only to find a text from Theo. Opening it, I couldn’t help but smile over the picture of Ramsay sitting obediently and staring up at the camera. There were no words that accompanied it, which only made the smile grow.

  Ren walked up beside me, looking down at the screen. “Why haven’t I met your dog yet? Who gets to see him?” Without asking, he plucked the phone from me and studied the sender before groaning. “I thought we were mad at Theo.”

  “We’re not mad at him. I am.”

  “Which means I am by default.”

  “You never liked him,” I countered.

  “Because I see how you look at each other. It just weirds
me out a little considering the age difference.”

  Heat blasted over my face. “Not again. He isn’t that much older than me.”

  He raised his hand. “Eighteen years. But hey. Whatever, Del. I’ve done weirder things with people older than me. I just want to make sure you’re okay, and whatever went down with him upset you.”

  “I’m fine,” I told him for the hundredth time. How many times did I have to tell him before he was convinced? I wasn’t going to explain that I had the most intense kiss of my life thanks to my father’s best friend and how I’d gone home that night and slipped a hand between my thighs to relieve the pressure he’d left, even though I was pissed at him for backing away. If it was like before, we’d be the same. Tiptoeing around each other until the frustration built again. It was a cycle I wanted nothing more than to break.

  “Which definitely means you’re not.” His tone was casual as he called me out, but there was a hint of amusement tilting his lips upward. “I thought you said you weren’t talking to him. By the way, you still haven’t told me why.”

  I snatched my phone back and hip bumped him. “Stop pouting. I don’t want to talk about why. And he’s watching Ramsay because the owner of my building almost caught me when I was taking him out to go to the bathroom. Or he did. I’m not sure. I dropped Ramsay off at Theo’s house yesterday morning after he went to work then texted him because I was afraid if I did get caught, Ramsay would get taken away while I was here.”

  He gaped at me. “Dude.”

  I winced. “I didn’t want to actually see Theo. Don’t judge. You just said you’ve done worse, so don’t hate on me.”

  He parted his lips before realizing he couldn’t argue. Shrugging, he nodded. “Fair. But I still want to know why you’re angry at him. My imagination has gone wild, so it’s better to just tell me.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean he was getting anything from me. Whatever he was imagining was probably way dirtier than what had happened, but I wasn’t caving. “You could meet Ramsay if you want. I never told you that you couldn’t.”

  “Uh, at his house?”

  I gave him a “duh” stare.

  “Pass.”

  “Coward.”

  “I’m not denying it.” He walked up when the cute raven-haired girl called out to him. I was sure he winked, and she blushed, which made me question my previous assumption over her dating status. Maybe she was like Ren. They’d be cute together. Then again, a lot of people would look good with my best friend. It was like he fit everywhere.

  It made me wonder if I did. I couldn’t picture myself with him when the opportunity struck, and I never saw myself with anybody else either. Lawrence had told me it was because I was infatuated with Theo for so long, I couldn’t get my mind to let it go. I wasn’t so sure it was that simple though. If I wanted to, I could at least try being around other people. Guys my age. Maybe some a few years older. It just didn’t feel…right. Not because I was obligated or owed anything to Theo, but because he was the only person who truly understood me. Who made the flutters appear in my stomach with a single side-smirk. Theo was just…my person.

  We walked over to Ren’s friends as expected. I was glad to have the distraction because as soon as he sat down, his friends started in on him. The ragging lasted long enough for me to finish my drink and check my school email. One of them was from my art professor who wanted to meet with me before I left campus for the day. After replying with an agreed time, I hovered over Theo’s name until Ren decided to pay attention to me.

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  He grabbed my phone and turned the screen off before shoving it into his pocket. “If you’re angry with him, you’ll be angrier that you texted first. Remember all the times you tried stopping me from making stupid choices?”

  I deadpanned. “It didn’t stop you.”

  One of his friends snorted. “She’s got you there. You cave in seconds when chicks are pissed at you.” Men too, but I didn’t say that aloud.

  A girlfriend of one of his teammates leaned over and grinned at me. “Are you having boy troubles? The chase always worked for me, girl. I’m just saying. Play hard to get and he’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.”

  The blush was unstoppable. “It isn’t boy trouble. It’s complicated.”

  Ren laughed, the fire in his eyes mischievous as ever. “More like daddy issues.”

  Everybody got quiet in a second. Ren stiffened beside me before his wide eyes found mine. The mischief extinguished when guilt flooded them.

  Clearing my throat, I squirmed and looked down at the folded hands in my lap to avoid the pitied glances cast in my direction from the people surrounding us.

  “Shit, Del. I’m so—”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, voice cracking. I knew he didn’t mean it like that. Ren was being…Ren. Dirty-minded. And he wasn’t wrong to make the joke. Maybe if it were a year or two later considering what happened to my actual father, people would have laughed.

  “Can I have my phone back? I should get going to get some work done. Plus, I need to meet with Professor Ambrose.”

  He passed it to me but didn’t let me just take it right away. “Are you really leaving? We can head out and maybe go to—”

  I patted his leg with a soft smile. At least, what I hoped looked like one. “It’s okay. Really. I still have that project due, and Ramsay needs to be taken care of.” I was aware people were still watching, though some pretended not to be. Badly. “I’ll text you later?”

  He just frowned but nodded.

  I pecked his cheek. “Love you.”

  His voice was full of sympathy. “Love you too. If you need anything, let me know.” He knew I wouldn’t, but he always made it a point to say so.

  I waved at everybody else and walked out without looking back. Pulling out my phone, I typed out a text to Theo and hesitated to send it. When I realized it wasn’t what I wanted, I sighed and turned it off, so I wasn’t tempted. Ren was right, I would have been angry at myself to reach out even when part of me was still irritated.

  It didn’t take long to make it to the Friedman Art Center where Professor Ambrose’s office was perched in the art department wing of the building. I always loved seeing her there because her shelves were full of her favorite self-made pieces—paintings, pottery, any kind of medium that she felt invested in at the time.

  My knock on her door was light, but she immediately looked up with a big smile on her aged face like always. “Adele! Come in, come in, dear. I was happy you could see me on such short notice.”

  I entered and dropped into the seat across from her. “It’s no problem. Is everything okay?”

  She waved her hand. “Of course. I didn’t mean to scare you by asking to come talk. It’s about the figure drawing class you got accepted into this summer with Kolinsky. I was ecstatic when you finally let me know you were going to take the spot offered.”

  I’d only accepted the offer after talking to Theo about it. I wasn’t sure if I should have considering my doubt, but it was too good to pass up since it was the one type of drawing I knew would benefit my work most. “What about it?”

  “There’s something I want you to consider,” she propositioned, the smile still spread across her lips. “I know it may seem like a ridiculous notion, but it’s one I truly want you to think about without giving me an answer now. Okay? Can you do that?”

  I blinked. “Uh…”

  “I think it’ll help you.”

  “What will?”

  When she explained it, my eyes widened, and I was pretty sure my heart stopped too. She delivered the idea so casually that it seemed like we were having a chat about the weather. Not…that.

  After she finished her spiel, all I could do was stare at her with parted lips. My fingers had curled together on my lap as I soaked in every word. I knew why she suggested it, why she told me it could help me. But…

  “I don’t know, Professo
r Ambrose.”

  “I know.” She stood and walked around her desk, sitting in the chair directly next to mine and reaching for my hand. “I’ve noticed how hesitant you are lately. You never used to be so in your head, and I know there’s a lot to think about. Why not do something about it? Take control.”

  Swallowing, I shook my head. I confided in her some time ago that I felt I’d lost control of my life, which was why I nosedived into rock bottom and done what I did. She’d known me since freshman year, seen my struggles, and was always willing to help. “I’ve been trying to get past the block, but—”

  “Have you though, Adele? I know you, dear. You’ve always been dedicated no matter the situation. What you went through, what you’re still going through, is a lot. It will always feel like somebody is holding you down because they want to see you fail. But it’s up to you to push back and find your place in the world again however you can. I know a lot of students, and nobody else here at Bentley has the strength and perseverance to get through the magnitude of horrors like you can.”

  “I don’t see how your suggestion helps do that,” I admitted honestly.

  She patted my arm. “If you agree, you’d be putting yourself out there for yourself. Not for anybody else in that room. It’d be about accepting that you’re worthy of that kind of attention. You’d be fighting what your brain wants you to drown in. And you know what else? You’d be living the very art you create. Remember the piece you submitted to the Bentley Art Journal? It was of the girl posing in front of a mirror, but she was—”

  “Faceless,” I whispered. I’d called the piece “Curvy” and it was no more than a few outlines of a woman being judged by the crowd.

  “All your pieces are faceless,” she noted pointedly. “Perhaps it’s time to put a face on your paintings, dear. Really put yourself in the art that so many people stop and stare at. Because it isn’t the last name they see when something of yours is displayed. It’s the meaning.”

  Inhaling slowly, I locked eyes on the floor and tried sorting out my thoughts. Even if I wanted to say no to her offer right then and there, she wouldn’t accept the answer. She was right. I needed to think about it. As for my art… “I feel like faceless creations are what I’m known for. It wouldn’t feel like me if suddenly I started painting people who were…”