The Color Project

by Sierra Abrams

  All right, fine then, if that’s how it’s going to be.

  I drop my purse and rush after him, sliding in front of his car door before he can unlock it. “Keagan,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

  His scowl deepens. “Please move.”

  “Dude, don’t lie to me. You’re always so nice to me. Did I do something?”

  He works his jaw. “Bee,” he says. His voice is quiet, thoughtful, a little bit sad. “I don’t want to get into this right now.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  He grunts.

  I raise both eyebrows, and say, “You have no choice. I’m staying here.”

  He shakes his head. “I…” Then he sighs. “All right, look. I’m really, really sad about your dad, Bee. And you have one thousand valid reasons to be sad, and angry, and hurt. But you…really hurt him, and that’s a little hard to understand.”

  “Bee hurt who?” Elle says, huffing as she runs up to us. She looks like a referee waiting for a fight to break out.

  I don’t look away from Keagan—I can’t. I love his honesty. But I do lower my voice when I say, “How bad was it?”

  Keagan’s eyes darken. “Bad, like…really bad. Let me ask you this: Have you ever seen Levi depressed?”

  I shake my head no. (It’s actually very hard to imagine.)

  “Oh, my God.” Elle covers her mouth. “Did you break up with Levi?”

  Keagan is not amused. “Elle, please.”

  Elle’s eyes widen as if she is starting to understand everything. Scurrying away, she says, “Well, um, I’ll…be in the car.”

  Keagan looks at me as Elle shuts her door, his eyes saddened by a weight he’s carrying, a burden I don’t quite understand. “I hadn’t seen him depressed either—until the day after you broke up with him. He came to work and didn’t say a word the whole time, didn’t even take his break, just plugged in his headphones and listened to music for seven hours. Then he told Michael that he’d need a few days off work because he wasn’t feeling well.”

  I start to say something, but Keagan interrupts me. “And then,” he says, “on top of that, he grabbed all of his work from the TCP office and took it home with him and stayed inside. For three days. I don’t know if you know how hard that is for Levi to do, but it’s really hard. He scared the shit out of me—wouldn’t even answer his phone for the first day.”

  I’m appalled, sick to my stomach—the same sensation as before I broke up with him. Like there’s unfinished business and I’m standing in the way of getting it done. I wrap my arms around my stomach. “What else?”

  Keagan shrugs. “He started answering my texts, told me he was okay, he just needed some time to process, figure out what he was going to do next.” He rubs his cheek thoughtfully. “He throws himself into things wholeheartedly, and he thought you did, too, Bee. We all did. That’s why you guys were everything. What…what happened?”

  I shrink back against the car door. I can’t blame the cancer, if only because of every conversation I had with Papa before he died—of him pushing me to go places, to be with Levi. No, this was entirely me and my fears.

  “I don’t know,” I answer. And then, more honestly, “I got stuck.”

  “On what?”

  “On the idea that I wasn’t good enough for him.”

  “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

  I smile at him ruefully. “So people tell me.”

  Keagan chuckles, but his expression grows serious again, too quickly. “You know there are certain things…he hasn’t told you. Right?”

  I suck in a breath. “No.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Tell me this instant, Keagan!”

  That’s all it takes, thank God. “His dad fought with him about something important, so Mr. Orville took the rent money out from under TCP. Then, about a week before you broke up with him, three sponsors pulled their monthly payments. He was waiting for the storm to pass, waiting for you guys to make up before he said anything.”

  I bury my head in my hands. Levi wouldn’t have told me—not after how I reacted to him paying for Papa’s chemo. I would have been unjustly angry at him for making that sacrifice, when that’s all TCP is: sacrifice. “This is so stupid,” I mutter. (I’m once again thinking of ways I could successfully murder AuGUStus!)

  “Bee,” Keagan says, and I drop my hands so I can look at him. “Levi told me about your conversation, after the funeral. And I have something to say about it. I don’t care if you don’t get back together with him—although, that would be ideal. Just…tell him you’re sorry. Tell him all the things you should have told him when you were dating, and move on.”

  He’s right. He’s one hundred percent right, and suddenly, I’m pretty sure I have wings. “I don’t want it to be just any conversation, though,” I announce, to both him and me. I’ve said those words before, however, and they haven’t gotten me any closer to the answer.

  Suddenly the window behind me rolls down and Elle sticks her head out. “Excuse me, um, I haven’t been listening to your conversation or anything—actually, wait, yes, I have. But I have an idea, if you don’t mind.”

  I grab her hand that’s hanging out the window and squeeze it hard. “Help me. Help me now,” I say, and I’m only half-pretending to be desperate.

  She grins slyly. “So, there’s, like, this event coming up. You know, the one Felix’s friend wanted to set up for Levi?”

  I grip her hand so hard, I’m worried I’ve crushed all her bones. “When is it?”

  “Um, it’s tomorrow.” She clears her throat. “And, well, Levi’s having me give this stupid speech that I don’t want to give because I’m not a writer or a speaker—not like that anyway. I keep reading over it and it sucks. I hate it.”

  Keagan frowns. “I fail to see how this helps Bee.”

  Elle rolls her eyes. “Men,” she mutters. “Obviously, I want Bee to write the speech—and give it. At the event. Tomorrow.”

  I don’t even have to think twice about this—I’m already there, ready for it. “You don’t think he’d mind, though, if I show up uninvited?” I ask, just to make sure.

  “Bee, you’re freaking invited, okay? I have a few extra invitations leftover and one of them has your name on it.” She sees my laughing expression and holds up a hand. “I mean it literally has your name on it. Levi had one made and then didn’t send it because he kept saying he’d give it to you in person and that you already knew about it.” Her expression goes dim, as if she’s just now realizing he was lying to her for my sake this whole time. “That little bastard…”

  I smile, a giddy, ridiculous smile that I’d never admit to in a million years, especially in front of Keagan, but right now—who freaking cares. “I’ll do it. Elle, I’ll do it.”

  (I already know what I want to say to Levi. I already know how I’m going to say I’m sorry.)

  Elle slaps my hand in a high five. “Good. Write your speech tonight, and tomorrow I’ll pick you up at ten to go dress shopping.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, it’s a fancy event. Like, you know, the kind of fancy only Felix can pull off.”

  Remembering the event in Malibu, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

  I step away from the car and Keagan opens the driver’s door, tossing his keys onto the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

  “You’ll be there?”

  “Obviously.” He hesitates, but a second later he reaches for a hug that I willingly give.

  “Keagan, thank you.”

  He pats my back twice, then lets me go. “I know you love him.”

  “Yeah.” I really, really, really love him, so much that I could explode, so much that I can’t imagine living my life without him. (What was I THINKING?!)

  With a nod, Keagan climbs into
his car and, after letting Elle squeeze my hand one more time, drives away.

  Minutes later I’m in my room, a mug of hot tea on my desk beside me, a blank sheet of paper and a green pen in hand. With a deep breath in and out, I start to write all the words I will say to Levi tomorrow night. All the words I’ve wanted to say for a while, but just haven’t had the courage.

  That night, when I’ve perfected and memorized my speech, I slip into bed with my mom. I’m surprised to find there are no sisters in sight. “Where are the girls?”

  My mom, who’s looking at something on her phone, laughs and invites me closer. “They decided they missed their own beds. But sweetie, look at this.” She tilts the screen toward my face. The text is from Suzie, and it’s a picture of—Levi?

  I scrunch up my nose. “Oh, my gosh! How old is he there?”

  “Seven,” my mom says, laughing again.

  In the picture, my ex-boyfriend-sort-of-still-boyfriend-will-hopefully-be-my-boyfriend-again-soon is sitting on a park bench with an otter pop in one hand and a skateboard in the other…and a full-on Mohawk with blue tips. I mean, I would never put it past his hair to be able to accomplish that height, but wow.

  “Suzie let him do that?” I zoom in on his cute face, so young, but with that same smirk I love, the same smirk I swooned over the first day I ever saw him.

  “Apparently.” My mom swipes right. “Oh, look, another one.”

  Levi’s even younger in this picture, probably five, and he’s missing his two front teeth, so his smile is not just big, it’s dorky, too. I miss that smile. (Suddenly, tomorrow can’t come fast enough.) I rest my head on my mom’s shoulder. “I’m going to a TCP event tomorrow night, with Elle.”

  “Good for you, Baby Bee!” she exclaims, surprising me with her enthusiasm.

  “I’m going to give the welcome speech, actually.”

  “Wow. That’s an amazing opportunity.”

  “I’m going to tell him my name,” I whisper.

  At first, she has no answer except to kiss my forehead. “He’s going to love it, the way I did when I named you, the way I still do.” She rolls into me, fingers tracing my arm softly. “Do you remember what it means?”

  “What? No, actually.” (Oops.)

  “It means she who brings victory.”

  I close my eyes, starting to drift at the sound of her voice. “Ah, victory. Just within my grasp.”

  She laughs. “You’ll be fine, Bernice. Yours is the only other love I’ve ever been so sure of.”

  “Yeah.” I embrace her words, along with the meaning of my name, and the surety of her heartbeat. “I think we’ll all be just fine.”

  Chapter 51

  The afternoon of the fundraiser, I pull my new dress out of its bag and lay it out on my bed.

  The room (filled with my sisters and mother and Elle) gives a collective gasp.

  “Bee,” Millicent whispers in awe, “you’re going to look like a princess in that.”

  I run my hands over the soft fabric. It’s truly charming: shimmering gold, lightly pleated, long enough to drop to my feet. It’s beautiful in that Greek-goddess way that requires gold sandals and possibly a shiny, gold wreath crown. (Too bad the crown would be overkill.) “You think?” I ask, grinning.

  “Bee,” Mama says, “you’re going to be so beautiful in this dress, The Boy is not going to know what to do with himself.”

  I blush. “Mom.”

  She smiles and brushes my hair away from my eyes. “Astrid, time to tackle these locks.”

  Astrid holds up a brush and comb and spray bottle full of water. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Then she squirts a spray of water into my face.

  After the hour it takes to do my hair, my mom helps me into the dress, careful to make sure it doesn’t snag on my crown braid (adorned with gold pins). I swear I do feel like a princess as the soft fabric touches my legs like liquid gold and the straps rest on my shoulders at the perfect length.

  I wait until Mama zips the dress in the back before turning to the mirror. I’m assailed by sudden happiness, so strong I can’t help the squeak that comes out of my mouth. The dress cinches in the middle, creating a loose-fitting bodice held up by paper-thin straps. The skirt drops straight down, but when I move side to side, it also moves, flowing like it was made for me.

  Mama grins behind me, nodding. “I’m glad you got this one.”

  I tried on seven dresses total, and this was the one I wanted from the beginning. It was pricey but worth it. “Me, too,” I say.

  “Are you nervous?” she asks, reaching into her jewelry box. She pulls out a gold chain with a leaf pendant and sets it around my neck.

  “Not for the speech,” I say.

  “Levi?”

  “Yeah. I’m a wreck.” Truth is, I’ve been rushing with nerves all day, imagining how the evening will go over and over again. It’s never perfect in my head; I always manage to screw something up before I have the chance to get it right.

  “You’ll be fine,” Elle says from the closet, where she’s trying on her own newly-purchased dress.

  “You will be,” Mama confirms. “You’re not a wreck, Bee.” She wraps her arms around me from behind, our cheeks pressing together. We’ve always looked alike in a sort of distant way, like we could be cousins or niece and aunt. But here we look lovely, a little like angels, with my dress casting golden shadows on our faces through the mirror.

  Her embrace starts to ease away my worries. “Thanks, Mama,” I whisper.

  She kisses my cheek, and I wrap my hands around hers. I glance down at the copy of Crime and Punishment lying on my nightstand, the cover torn and abused, flapping in the wind from my ceiling fan. I press my lips, then say, “I wish Papa was here to send me off.”

  Mama closes her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Ah.” A tiny gasp of a word, and it tears right through me. “He loved Levi so much, Bee. If there’s anything you could do to make your dad proud, it’d be this.”

  I dab my mom’s eyes to stop the tears, then kiss her nose, and stand. “Well, then. I should get going.”

  “Excuse me!” Elle squawks from the closet. “You can’t leave without your date!”

  Chapter 52

  The hotel hosting the event is gorgeous, big and marble and fountained, unlike anything I’ve seen. But I barely get a glimpse of it before Elle (who looks fabulous in her skinny black dress) takes me around to the back door, so we can avoid Levi and other Important People. She deposits me right at the edge of the stage, her blue hair flouncing. “Stay. Here.”

  I stay there, situated behind a speaker and in the center of a bunch of cords, and wait.

  For nearly twenty minutes. The room fills and fills, and everyone is wearing outfits even nicer than mine, and I’m starting to feel queasy, in the best possible way. (Is there a good way to feel queasy? If there is, I’ve found it.) I have a paper full of words in my clutch, words I will say tonight, in front of all these people. I almost get it out to read over it again, but I know that’s futile—I was repeating it in my sleep last night.

  Apparently, I’ve been ready for this a lot longer than I realized.

  I’m beginning to worry Elle forgot about me when she finally rounds the corner again. “I’m going to introduce you now. Ready?”

  “Hell no.” I smile. “And hell yes.”

  “I’m right here, cheering you on.” Elle squeezes me in a hug for a split second before hurrying up the steps. The audience claps sparsely when she grabs the microphone and starts to speak. “Welcome, one and all, to what we hope will become the first of many annual banquets!”

  More applause. I smile, bouncing from foot to foot. I’m so ready to climb those stairs.

  “Levi Orville, our local saint, asked me to give the welcome speech tonight, but as I am highly unprofessio
nal, I asked someone far more capable and deserving of the job to help us out.”

  (I wish I could see his face right now.)

  “I’m not going to introduce her because I think she can do that best for herself.” She waves to me. “Come on up.”

  Letting go of every reservation I could possibly have left, I climb those stairs. I step into the spotlight, squinting for a second before my eyes adjust. The ocean of people makes me briefly dizzy. They are waiting—for me.

  I take in a lot of faces in a few seconds. Mostly unfamiliar, but some are so wonderfully familiar they give me a touch of heartache. I see Clary-Jane, and Albert, and Missy. (This is the only acceptable place to wear those shoes.) I see Nikita and Suhani, whispering things to each other, smiling, waving at me. I see Keagan, with his dimpled smile and his wild curly hair and his bright eyes that tell me they’re happy I’m here.

  Then, because he is sitting near the front and I can easily spot him, I meet Levi’s gaze and think about how perfect he is in that stupid (gorgeous) suit and that I could stare at him all day. I register his surprise and confusion and his sadness, too.

  I smile and take the microphone from Elle.

  I put it close to my lips.

  I speak.

  “Thank you all for coming out here tonight.” Smooth and easy, I think. Now continue. Don’t look at them directly. Don’t make eye contact.

  Actually, make eye contact with Levi. But only sometimes.

  I shake my hands out by my sides for a second. When the nerves don’t go away, I say, “I’m, um, a tad nervous, so you’ll have to excuse me.”

  This earns an honest trickle of laughter. Confidence surges. I go on.

  “Typically, Levi is the one to give speeches at his events. You all know Levi, right? He’s super tall—well, to me at least, because I’m really short—and he’s probably the nicest person you’ve ever met. Yeah. Him.” I pause, a blush creeping up my neck and down my arms. “He’s the reason why you’re here. And normally he’d be up here talking about how great and helpful and generous everyone else is. Once, he even stood in front of an audience much like yours and spoke about me. But, tonight, I want to focus on Levi.”