The Color Project

by Sierra Abrams

  That night, after a sullen dinner with Astrid and Millie, I grab my phone and pull up Messenger. The app says Gretchen is online, so I take a deep breath and send a message.

  Bee

  Can I tell you something?

  Gretchen

  Obviouslyyyyy

  Bee

  I fought with Levi and it was horrible.

  Gretchen

  What?!

  Bee

  We fought a few days ago, but then Mama called about…you know.

  Levi and I never worked it out, so we fought again today. I remember thinking one thing and saying another, or not saying anything at all.

  I don’t know how to fix it.

  Gretchen

  Bee, I’m so sorry. But…he knows what you’re going through right now. He might need a bit of space, but he’ll always come back to you.

  Bee

  He walked away.

  I couldn’t talk to him. I didn’t want him there, so he left.

  Gretchen

  Has he ever given you reason to think he’d give up on you all together?

  Bee

  No.

  Gretchen

  Exactly. Even if he’s upset, he’ll come around. He’s probably feeling bad right now that he left you earlier.

  Bee

  Gretchen, he’s really mad at me.

  I haven’t told him my name yet.

  Gretchen

  WHAT?! Phew. Okay.

  Ummm…..

  Shit.

  I thought you were going to do that ages ago?

  Nevermind. There’s no time like the present, right?

  Bee

  Right?

  Gretchen

  He needs to know you’re on his side. He needs to know that you’re all in. Telling him will do just that.

  I breathe through my teeth; it sounds like a hiss. She’s right, for the most part. But what happens if he’s no longer all in, like I (and maybe he) once thought he was? I feel cracked, and it’s like he’s seen everything inside—that I’m barren and empty—and now he knows I have nothing to give him.

  Bee

  Okay.

  Gretchen

  You’re an idiot. Go talk to him already.

  Bee

  I can’t tonight. I’ll go to the shop tomorrow.

  Gretchen

  You do that. Tell me how it goes?

  Bee

  Yeah.

  Gretchen

  I LOVE YOU FOREVER, BERNICE AURORA WESCOTT.

  See? It’s not that hard to say.

  Bee

  That’s because it’s not yours.

  Gretchen

  *sigh* I tried.

  Well, practice in front of the mirror or something.

  I manage a smile and our regular I think you’re crap before I lie down in bed and dream that the stars haven’t gone out over my life.

  When I open my eyes again, it’s still black as pitch outside.

  Someone’s knocking on my door.

  “Yeah?” I ask, but it’s a whisper and I hope whoever’s there can hear me. (My throat feels weird, like there’s something stuck.)

  My mom opens my door and whispers, “Bee, are you awake?”

  I’m tempted to not answer, so I compromise: I nod.

  “Okay. Do you want to talk?” she asks, a little louder.

  I shudder. “No, thanks.” Same words I said to Levi. Haven’t I learned?

  She sits on the edge of my bed and runs her hand down my arm. Her fingers are cold. “Bee, it’s okay to be scared.” I turn around, and instantly her arms encircle me. “We’re all scared,” she adds, with less confidence, so I can see the side of her that isn’t Mom. It’s the side that’s Wife, and suddenly my heart is full of secondhand sadness.

  “I know,” I whisper. Someday I hope to be brave.

  “I’m here, Baby Bee. You can always talk to me.”

  But I still don’t want to talk, because that requires walking straight into the pain, willingly, with no guarantee that it will make anything better. I’m not ready to try, not yet, so I just let my mom curl up beside me and cry silently, her tears wetting my pillow.

  After psyching myself up, it’s more than disappointing to get to Mike’s shop the next afternoon and see…no one. There are no cars parked out front, and the garages are closed. It’s at the last second before I turned back out of the lot that I see the little light in the office (it’s too bright out).

  I pray Levi’s parked around back and pull my car into one of the many free spaces. It’s a little strange, being here, after what’s happened. I’ve been by a few times in the past month—usually just to sneak a kiss. But standing here in the empty lot, I’m reminded of that first time Levi spoke to me and I thought I was going to die because I was going to screw up the conversation or stare at him too hard or something awful.

  And then I kept seeing him everywhere and he liked me and then—then he loved me.

  I want to go back to that.

  My skin practically burning from the sun and my fears, I walk up the steps to the little office, knock on the door, and crack it open. “Hello?”

  Someone’s standing on a chair in the back, changing a light bulb, but it’s not Levi. “Be right with you,” Keagan says.

  My spirits fall. “It’s just me,” I say.

  “Bee?” Keagan looks over his shoulder at me, wobbles a bit, and laughs as he adjusts his weight. “Good to see you! How’ve you been?”

  Typical, sweet Keagan, always jumping straight into things. Too bad I’m not in the mood. “Oh, um, I’m okay.”

  “How’s your dad?” he asks, turning just enough so he can jump off the chair.

  I cringe. “Actually, can we not talk about my dad today?”

  His expression dims. “Not good, then? But okay, we don’t have to talk.” He runs a hand through his wavy hair (it’s long now, to his jaw) and gives me that sad smile everyone gives me when they feel bad about my life. “What’s up?”

  “I was hoping…I thought…Levi would be working.” But now that the words are coming out of my mouth, I’m certain he’s not here, and maybe it was silly of me to show up in the first place. The window that looks down into the garage shows only dark and shadowy machinery.

  Keagan gives me a look. “He’s at a meeting…for The Color Project?”

  I try not to look surprised, or choke, or feel embarrassed.

  Keagan sees all of this anyway. “Did he not tell you?”

  I am wordless. I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out, so I just spread my hands.

  “Shit. You guys are fighting, aren’t you? He came in for a makeup shift last night and he looked horrible.”

  I think my knees want to crumble underneath me. “I’m sorry I bugged you, Keagan,” I say, and start to go.

  “Bee,” he says, in a way that makes me stop even though I want to leave right now. I stop because I know he’s got something important to say. (Keagan only ever seems to say important things.) “I’m not busy until five.” He checks the clock on the wall. “Another hour, at least, so give it to me.”

  With almost no hesitation, I cave. He doesn’t know me, I realize. Not personally, at least, which means he doesn’t know the mistakes I’ve made, the things I’m afraid of. I trust Levi too much to think he’d rat on me and all my issues, so Keagan becomes a clean slate for me to work out all my problems on.

  I need this more than anything.

  Folding my arms over my chest, I sit beside him on the edge of the desk (Dear Greg, sorry we made a mess sitting on your neatly organized paperwork. Love, Bee & Keagan) and give him he watered-down version of everything that happened. I don’t tell him about my name; I do tell him about feeling lost. I tr
y to tell him that I’ve shut Levi out and shut myself in; instead, it comes out as I don’t know how to be this person. But despite how many times I jumble my words and have to repeat myself, he listens. It’s so very…Keagan.

  When I’m done, he nods once, as if he expected all this. “You’re overthinking this,” he says with confidence, crossing his arms, hair tucked behind his ears. “I bet you anything that Levi looked so awful last night because he was thinking of all the ways he was wrong.”

  “But he wasn’t wro—”

  Keagan laughs, surprising me, cutting me off. “Levi’s a nice guy, really—I told you before that he’s the nicest, and I’ll always back that—but he hates rocking the boat. It’s just his thing, you know?”

  I didn’t know that. And knowing it doesn’t exactly make me feel better.

  “Don’t stress it too much, okay?” Keagan nudges my elbow.

  I stand up. “I’m trying not to.”

  “Hey.” Keagan stands with me, looking at me thoughtfully. “I assume you guys are hanging out tomorrow, anyway, right?”

  I shiver, but I’m not sure why, because this heat is wretched. “Not…no…we didn’t have plans. Why?”

  Keagan rolls his eyes. “Levi’s a dumb-ass drama queen. It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

  I can feel my eyes bulging. “What?!”

  “Yeah, I know, right? He has this thing about his birthday—he gets shy about celebrating. I found out from Suzie years ago and have been telling everyone since then, getting groups of people together to hang out, watch movies or go out for burgers in OB or something. One year he even tried to trick us and pretend he was out of town, but we soon found out from his mom that he was just trying to avoid the attention.”

  “That’s stupid,” I say, drily, because it is.

  “Yeah, well, we think so, too. I assumed he’d tell his girlfriend, of all people.”

  I think, Maybe he was planning to, before, but I don’t say it. (I wonder if Keagan thought it, too.) I have more questions now than before, which makes my head ache. “No, he didn’t tell his girlfriend.”

  “Okay. That settles it. You’re joining us tomorrow for dinner. Stop by the shop at five, and we’ll all drive to his house together.”

  I nod, trying to imagine this scenario playing out. It could only be good, right? Maybe this will lighten his spirits, and mine, and we could talk in a civilized manner. This time, I promise myself I won’t run from him, and I pray he won’t leave me behind.

  I pull my purse higher on my shoulder and smile, albeit shakily, and thank Keagan with a hug. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 41

  There are quite a few of us on Levi’s doorstep: Keagan, Tom, Elle, Nikita, Suhani, Michael, Greg, and some random boys I don’t know but assume are from the shop. Elle’s carrying two packs of beers, the twins brought non-alcoholic beverages, and Tom’s got three bags of chips. One of the boys I don’t know is carrying two movies and a video game that he claims is the sequel to Levi’s favorite.

  I realize, quite gloomily, that I didn’t know Levi likes playing video games, that he likes them enough to have a favorite.

  The sun’s already gone down and Suzie has turned on all the lights. (We waited until later in the evening for two reasons: to not interfere with family dinner plans, and to make him think he’s getting out of a birthday surprise this year.) It only takes a few seconds after we knock before Suzie swings open the door, her smile as wide as I expected it to be.

  “Oh, he’s going to love this, you guys.” Suzie hops excitedly (three times exactly) before letting us in. I hang back, letting the others go ahead of me. Suzie shuts the front door and yells, “Hey, birthday boy, come see your present!”

  “Mom, you already got me something!” Levi shouts back. A second later, he runs into the room. His bare feet skid on the wood as he sees us and comes to a startled halt. “What. Is. Going. On?”

  “Ha!” Keagan shouts. “You thought you were getting out of it this year.”

  Levi rubs a hand over his face, chuckling. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. What was I thinking?”

  “I don’t know, man.” Keagan clasps his hand and smacks the back of his head. “Happy birthday.”

  Levi still hasn’t seen me, but I know the moment is inevitable. He looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his clothes slightly askew, but he also looks relatively happy. He goes through the group, passing out hugs and laughing with each person as they wish him a happy birthday.

  It isn’t until he reaches for a hug from Elle that he sees me, and my heart flips, and my throat strangles. I hadn’t really thought about how this moment would go, just that it would go one of two ways: good or bad. But in reality, it’s neither. (Or a little bit of both.) His eyes land on me at the back of the group, and his smile fails us both, and I want to sink into oblivion.

  But then he shakes his head and, taking the last few steps toward me, embraces me fully. Sighing, as if he’s so happy to have me and so unhappy that we fought, he kisses me full on the mouth.

  Of all the things I expected, it was not this. With his arms around my waist, my hands automatically weave through his hair. It doesn’t matter that all our friends are watching, or that I feel like I don’t deserve something so wonderful.

  It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t smiled at me.

  What does matter: that I missed him, that he’s holding me like he missed me, and that we’re together. That’s it. That’s everything.

  Tom whistles (I’d be thoroughly pissed if I weren’t so preoccupied) and Keagan loudly proclaims, “Well, his first birthday celebration with a girlfriend was bound to be a little different, right?”

  And Elle. “That’s a little steamy, you guys.” (Oh, Elle, you’re one to talk.)

  At that, Levi steps back, tucking me into his side. Then he smiles at them (still not at me), laughs at them, shakes his head like they’re funny and he hasn’t just jumbled up our already confused hearts.

  Elle tosses her blue hair over her shoulder. “I just want a beer. Who’s with me?”

  Suzie clears her throat by the doorway to the kitchen. “Hello, again,” she says, looking closely at Elle (who gives a sheepish smile and hides the beer behind her back) before turning to her son. Everyone stands remarkably still as she crosses over and kisses Levi’s cheek. “Drink responsibly, baby. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” She waves at us, pressing my hand once before disappearing.

  Elle grins. “I mean, she gave her permission, so it’s totally legal, yeah?”

  Levi rolls his eyes. “At least Albert isn’t here to throw glitter on me.”

  “Actually—” Elle hands the beer to Keagan and reaches into her pockets. “This is from him,” she says gleefully, and tosses two handfuls of glitter into the air.

  “Happy twentieth, Levi!” Keagan shouts, and Michael and Tom and the rest of the boys join in, with me and Elle and the twins right behind. Then the house goes up in cheers, and Levi’s rubbing glitter out of his hair, laughing. He’s so beautiful, standing there with his heart on his sleeve.

  (I don’t want to break it, but I think I already have.)

  We end up on the roof.

  One of the boys requested it, so Levi got out the ladder, and we climbed the wobbly thing until we were on the house’s slightly angled roof. I laid out a blue and white striped blanket from Suzie’s linen closet and all ten of us unceremoniously piled on. The boys and Elle each grabbed a beer while the twins and I popped open Sprite cans.

  Now we’re on our backs, staring at the sky. Even I (in my uncertain state of being, in my fear and doubt and anger) am enamored with the star patterns visible tonight. After a few minutes of lying beside each other, silently, Levi reaches for my hand. I feel his fingers brush mine, soft and slow, and for a moment I let him grip me. He threads his f
ingers through mine, squeezing tight like he means it.

  But I’m not sure of anything anymore, so I untangle us.

  He shifts and lifts his beer as if nothing happened. “Thanks, you guys.”

  “No,” Keagan replies, “thank you.”

  “Shut up,” Levi says.

  “No,” Michael says, sitting up and raising his beer to Levi’s. “If there was ever a man who could singlehandedly change the world, it’d be Levi.”

  “Amen to that!” someone shouts, and another whoops. We all laugh a little.

  “Seriously, you guys, shut up,” Levi groans out, hand over his face in embarrassment. “You’re drunk, Michael.”

  “Dude,” Michael says, in complete control of his faculties, “I’ve had, like, two sips.”

  Levi shakes his head. “Thanks. But for real, that’s enough.”

  I want to reach over and smack his arm like I would have before, but I’m frozen, my elbows locked. (I let go of his hand. He walked away. What am I doing here?) My voice is gone, too, so I can’t tell him how wrong he is, how it’s not enough, how we have so much more to say about him.

  Hours pass under the stars. We talk about TCP and Levi and cars and Elle’s irrational fear of raccoons. (“There’s one living on the roof,” Levi tells us, and Elle curls up into a tight ball.) We discuss the stars most of all, with Elle reading off information to us from a constellation app on her phone. It reminds me of a story, a good one that I would read over and over again, and I want to stay like this forever: no cancer, no future, no fear of screwing everything up. I could be happy, forever living in this moment of now.

  But then it ends. (Of course it does.) Elle screeches at the slightest sound of scraping on the roof behind us, hurriedly saying her goodbye. Slowly, our friends start to trickle off the roof, telling us to stay, that they’ll see themselves out. Sooner than later, it’s just Levi and me on the roof, lying still beneath the black expanse. It’s like they knew there was something going on, something between us that wasn’t quite right, and wanted us to fix it.