The Color Project

by Sierra Abrams

  I catch his expression then: the fleeting pain, the embarrassment. And a smidgeon of joy—I saw that, too.

  At the risk of becoming giddy, I continue. “The Color Project is a place of hope. When Levi introduced me to TCP back in June, I had no idea that such a place existed. But it was there, in front of me the whole time, and sooner than later I got sucked in. Who doesn’t want to surround themselves with hope? If you don’t want or need hope, in any way, shape, or form, you’re probably doing something wrong. You probably shouldn’t be here, of all places.”

  More laughter. I let out my own breathy huff that I hope passes as a chuckle.

  “As it turns out, I was looking for hope. I needed it. I craved it. And TCP gave that to me. I got to watch Levi hand freshly-written checks to struggling, single parents so their kids could go to college, to sickly people who couldn’t pay their bills, to practically anyone in need. I was a part of something bigger for the first time, and I’ve met some of the most amazing people in the entire world. Not only that—I’ve come to know myself better than ever before. When I first started volunteering, I got to help plan a wedding for two young people from Prague. That wedding, in a roundabout way, led to the realization that I am passionate about floral design.”

  I shift my weight from foot to foot, still nervous, but I’m starting to get the hang of this. “Everything I’ve named so far—that’s all a part of what Levi does. Pretty spectacular, right? I know,” I add, nodding with the audience as there’s another trickling applause. “And he’s only twenty—can you believe that?”

  There is a hoot, and a whistle, and a shout. Levi turns in his seat with an amused expression on his face, but soon his eyes are back on me. He’s got his hand by his face, like he’s trying to hide. I smirk. Not tonight, beautiful boy.

  “So, that’s what Levi does. Now I want to talk about who he is.”

  Quiet again. So quiet.

  Then, Levi: “Bee, really—”

  I cut him off. “A few months ago, when Levi had already become a part of my family, and vice versa, my father was diagnosed with stage 3C brain cancer. The doctors gave him three months to live, which turned out to be a very accurate prognosis, as my father died only a couple of weeks ago.” I close my eyes, letting the audience’s murmurs dull my pain. “The one person who was there consistently, through it all, was Levi. He visited my father every day he could. He ate with us. He laughed with us. He even shared some moments with me that were the bleakest of my life. He provided a friendship for our entire family that I can say for certain will not die out anytime soon.”

  Here, I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. “My parents are by no means poor, but they’re not wealthy, either. And treatments are, as anyone can guess, very expensive. I thought we were going to make do, going to stick it out till the end…until one day I discovered that TCP had been providing for us all along. The bi-monthly checks we were receiving paid for everything, including the funeral. And now, because of Levi, my widowed mother can live the rest of her life debt free. She can provide for us, send us to school, give us a good life.”

  Levi stands now, and oh, God, I want to hug him. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks up at me, expectant and yet completely uncertain. I realize with a pang in my gut that we are the only two people standing in the entire room.

  I take a deep breath—ohmygosh breathing—and smile.

  I say the thing, the one that will change everything.

  “My name is Bernice Wescott,” I tell Levi, in front of everyone. He laughs with so much joy and surprise that I’m sure the rest of the audience is confused. But this moment, right now, with our smiles overtaking our faces—this is for us. He knows, without a doubt, that this is an offering. An offering of myself. Hi, my name is Bernice, and I’m in love with you, so you should take me back.

  “My life has been changed by The Color Project,” I continue, working to keep myself under control. “I want to make sure that this ripple effect continues, and never dies out. In light of everything that I’ve just told you, I hope you will all think hard about your decision here. Actually,” I amend quickly, “it’s not much of a decision at all. If you have to think twice about where to put your money, you definitely shouldn’t be here.

  “Thank you,” I conclude, without flair or any sort of style. Then I hand Elle the microphone and start walking. The stairs seem to wobble under my feet, but I follow them down anyway. That’s when I register the (unbelievably loud) applause. I smile, but I’m not going to stop for them.

  I’m only going to stop for Levi, if he wants me.

  I step through the side door and onto the open patio, where I catch my breath against the railing that follows the steps down into a garden maze. There’s a bench there, out of the light, and no trees to block my view of the stars. I make my way down to it, still wobbly; I’m breathing like I’ve run a mile.

  I take the final step, my hand still clutching the rail. I did it. I really did it.

  I’m about to jump with my fist in the air, to whoop loudly into the night, when I hear his voice. “Bee.”

  I turn. Seeing him at the top of the stairs makes me turn to Jell-O inside.

  “Bernice Aurora Wescott,” he begins, drawing out every syllable, marking every vowel and hitting every consonant. The one thing I’ve been so scared to hear him say and it sounds utterly beautiful on his tongue, like the perfect melody. “Bernice Aurora Wescott, my Delectable Girl, why would you ever think it’s okay to say all those nice things and then just leave?”

  Chapter 53

  I don’t know what to say to him.

  As always, I’m speechless in his presence. This is going to have to change, I think.

  “Bee?” he inquires of my silence. “You weren’t really leaving, were you?”

  He’s so hopeful. So full of boyish energy and joy. “No, I wasn’t,” I say, wringing my hands together.

  Levi starts down the steps—fifteen of them in rapid succession. He’s at the bottom before I can stop him. “You can’t!” I exclaim, almost shouting, hurrying out of his reach.

  He stops, confused. Then he starts toward me again.

  “Don’t—Levi! I need to talk to you!”

  His chuckle is maddening, devilish. “You can’t talk to me while I’m holding you in my arms under the moonlight?”

  “No, I cannot. No distractions. I’ll end up kissing you instead.”

  “Not if I kiss you first,” he growls, and I have never seen him move so fast. His arms are around me and his lips are pressing against my nose, my chin, my neck—and I let him because I’ve missed this too much. Talking? What’s talking?

  He shakes his head at me, hair bobbing, lips parted. “Bee,” he murmurs, then kisses my lips. My small noise of delight fades out as I clutch his shoulders, kissing him back fiercely. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to stop kissing him, not now, not after all that.

  GOD, he tastes perfect.

  “I’m sorry…I never…told you…my name,” I murmur between kisses. I hear his contented sigh, feel it on my lips, and we’re a little bit frantic and a lot happy, our arms trapping us inside each other. I have a month of kissing to make up for; he better not think for a second that he’s getting out of that.

  With a small chuckle, Levi reaches down and grabs my legs and hoists me up, saying, “Now this dress I can work with.” He sets me on the ledge behind us, so that he can hold me closer, his hands roaming my back, working his way up to my shoulders, squeezing like he can’t let go. (I know he won’t.) “I’m sorry I never rocked the boat,” he whispers. “I wasn’t there for you like you needed me to be, and I said so many stupid things that I regret.”

  “Shh,” I say with a finger on his lips. “You were right. Well, mostly.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether I was right or not. I was stupid, and I love you, and I’m so
rry.”

  “Oh, Levi.” I rest my forehead on his and, realizing I’m still gripping handfuls of his hair, I trace my fingers down to his shoulders to grasp his lapels. “I should have asked you about your dad. I should have asked you how things were at TCP. You know, the sponsors dropping out.”

  “How did you—”

  “Keagan told me.”

  Levi grunts. “Bastard.”

  “He also told me, essentially, that I can’t pretend to go all-in so I can back out whenever I want to.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Essentially,” I repeat. “At least, that’s how I’m taking it, because it’s true. And I don’t ever want to back out of this ever again.”

  “Once again, I assume this means our relationship.”

  He’s referring to something he said during our breakup, which makes me sad, but it also makes me think of second chances. I like that. “You are correct, sir.”

  He heaves a sigh. “Thank goodness.”

  I place my hand over his heart, and my own heart skips a beat when he places his own hand on top. “Come on, you goof. You knew you had it in the bag the second I stood up on that stage.”

  His eyes twinkle like stars, his smile mischievous. “Duh. Dufus is smart.”

  I hoot with laughter. “Yes,” I say, and I pull him to my chest, where his head rests against me. “Dufus is very smart.”

  “Did Dufus tell you how great your speech was, by the way? Or how gorgeous your hair is? Or how freaking beautiful this dress is? Or how nice it is to kiss you after all this ti—”

  “Shh, be quiet.” I can’t help it—I kiss him again.

  But he’s not done yet. Now he’s indignant. “I can’t believe I didn’t guess Bernice. Of all the names! That should have been easy!”

  “No,” I say with equal indignation. “I’m glad you didn’t guess, because I got to tell you myself.”

  His expression turns soft, less teasing, but he adds quietly, “I’m still upset about it.”

  “You are not.” I pat the breast pocket of his suit. “Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading back inside now? Won’t your adoring fans be looking for you to throw their millions at you?”

  He helps me off the ledge, setting me softly on my feet. “Actually, there’s an entertainer for the next hour, and drinks and raffle prizes afterward, so…”

  I look at him. He looks at me. Our hands meet between our bodies. We’re so warm, so contained within each other, as if we were never apart.

  “We could go for a drive, if you want,” he says.

  I reach up, my tiptoes barely lifting me to his height, and plant a kiss on the top of his lips. “We could.”

  Because he knows that is my yes, Levi tugs me back up the stairs. We practically run around the building and into the parking lot, where we wait for the valet to bring his car.

  “MAXIMILLIAN!” I shout when I see it.

  Levi laughs like he’s trying not to but he can’t help himself. “That horrible name again?”

  “What? It’s no worse than Bernice.” I sit in the passenger seat and close my door, arranging the hem of my dress around my feet.

  “Bernice is totally sexy. I really don’t know what you’re so worked up over.”

  I roll my eyes. “Exactly what Gretchen thought you’d say.”

  “Once again, Gretchen is a wonderful human being.” He reaches across me to the glove compartment, rummaging around for something, and while he’s there I take the opportunity to kiss his beautiful hair. “Pick something,” he commands, and pulls back, dropping his iPod in my lap. Then he returns my kiss and puts Maximillian in reverse.

  “What if I show you the playlist I listened to every day after we broke up?”

  “We broke up?” He raises one eyebrow at me, turning out of the lot.

  “Fine. After I broke up with you.” I log myself into Spotify and find my playlist, clicking on “Michicant”. I cue “Creature Fear” as well, because that’s my favorite Bon Iver song.

  “What? Really? This song? What else is on this playlist?”

  “It’s literally all Bon Iver.” I look sideways at him.

  “Well?” he asks, glancing over. “Do you like them now?”

  I shrug. “Depends on the song, but yeah, you could say they’re no longer deplorable.”

  “Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “Say you like them.”

  You should see my bedroom wall, I almost tell him, but I want to show him that one. So I mumble, “I like Bon Iver.”

  Levi seems to take this as fair. “Good, excellent. You’ve conceded. I win.”

  I laugh. “Glory-hog.”

  He reaches across the console to take my hand, looking very…distracted. (I blush.) “Where should we go?”

  I smile. “Surprise me.”

  Levi’s expression goes thoughtful as he focuses on the road. Then, without warning, he pulls to the side, turns on the hazards, and…starts to take off his tie.

  I swallow. “Levi…”

  He gives me a look before he realizes what I’m thinking. (His slow grin makes my toes curl.) “Calm down, don’t jump to conclusions.”

  My blush runs deeper. “What are you doing?”

  “This,” he says, and blankets my eyes with the flat side of his tie. When my world is completely dark, and he has tied the two ends behind my head, he takes my hand. “Surprising you.”

  Chapter 54

  The world around me changes in a strange new way. One minute I can tell we’re in a neighborhood, and the next on a busy road, and then the freeway. But when we exit the freeway and start on the windy roads, I’m entirely confused.

  “Okay, I might be sick,” I say. “Too much winding.”

  “Almost there,” he assures me, squeezing my hand.

  He’s right—we park only a minute or two later. I reach up to slip the tie off my head, but he stops me.

  “Not yet,” he says. “Still not quite there.”

  So I wait. I let him help me from the car, finding myself surrounded by crisp night air. “Where…”

  “Shh,” he whispers, and kisses me.

  But before I can wind my arms around him, we’re walking again, me in a daze, Levi an explosion of energy. I can feel it in his hand twitching in mine, the way his footsteps sound (frantic and quick) on the dirt. He’s quiet, however, and the world around me is quiet, so I don’t make a peep. I focus my energy on not tripping, as the ground becomes hard and bumpy. When we go down a hill, I let him carry me on his back; when the grass gets high enough that it’s tickling my knees beneath my skirt, I let him pick me up, one arm under my arms and the other under my legs.

  When it seems like we’ll be walking forever, he finally sets me down on soft, sandy ground. “The beach?” I ask.

  “Nope.” He reaches up and, in one quick movement, unties the tie and lets it fall across my shoulders.

  I can see, suddenly, and while there is a vast expanse of water, it’s not the ocean. The mountains, dark with night, rise up around the lake on all sides, and above our heads the sky is raw and full of stars.

  “I was here the other night,” Levi says, as if to fill the silence. “It’s so quiet and peaceful and I just needed to think about everything, you know? Well, I ended up just thinking about you, for the most part, because who are we kidding—but anyway. It was relaxing.”

  I can’t speak because I’m choking on my own emotions. The landscape blurs for a second, then clears as the tear drips down my cheek.

  “Bee?” he asks uncertainly.

  “Oh, Levi.” I hang my head, barely managing to keep myself from sobbing loudly. Silent tears drip. “This is beautiful.”

  “Hey,” he says, and puts his arms around me, pressing my back against
his chest. His lips touch my neck, then a little higher, and that’s when he feels the tears, tasting them as they smear against his lips. “Bee.”

  “You know beautiful things make me cry,” I protest. “Don’t be alarmed.”

  He turns me and tucks me into his embrace so that we’re chest to chest. (Erm, well, my chest comes to his stomach. Whatever.) “I’m not. I just want to hold you.”

  “Oh, in that case…” I squeeze his waist, letting the silence of this place overtake me. I could say that’s the reason I’m so calm, or maybe the beautiful view, in which thousands of stars are reflected in the smooth lake surface.

  But I’d be a fool to claim that. We all know it’s Levi.

  “How did I ever leave you?” I ask suddenly.

  He doesn’t respond, just tightens his arms around me.

  “Don’t let me go,” I say.

  He bends to kiss me—what I think will just be a peck, but what turns into something lingering, and too precious for me to stop. (Even when I lose my breath.)

  “Is it all right that I just want to kiss you all day long?” he breathes.

  “Totally fine,” I whisper back. “Even better if all day turned into forever.”

  “That’s obviously what I was implying. I proposed already, and we’re going to have twelve kids, remember?”

  I smile, my palm on his cheek, my thumb brushing the side of his lips. “Are you being serious or…”

  He blinks twice. “Well, I guess I could go down to ten, if you were persuasive enough.”

  “Shut up, Levi,” I say, putting two fingers over his mouth.

  “In reality,” he says, ignoring my protests, “I’m actually thinking about moving into the spare bedroom at the new office. And, I dunno, one day maybe you can join me.”

  “You really are proposing!” I exclaim.

  “Only hoping!” he defends, a sheepish grin on his lips. “And promising. You did just tell me to never let you go.”