Color Blind Page 2

  Later that night, Dara is in my room, helping me pack for a weekend in the Outer Banks with her family. If it weren’t for Dara’s family, I never would have had a vacation. I am so lucky we met in our first grade classroom all those years ago.

  “Guess what?” Dara asks.

  “Um…you got into Tech early decision?” I guess, trying to decide which bathing suit to pack. I only have two. I put them both in the bag.

  “That’s not it! It’s a much more exciting ‘guess what!’” She pops up like a puppet bouncing on a string. Sometimes the girl is too bouncy for her own good. In a minute, she was going to fall off of my bed into a heap on the carpet.

  I am distracted, holding up two tank tops I found on a dollar rack in the mall. “Which one?”

  She snatches them both from my hands. “Camryn Rae Grimes! Pay attention. This is important!”

  I focus my attention on her, waiting expectantly.

  “That’s better. We have a date on Thursday night,” she announced, like I had just won the lottery. She throws herself back on my pillows, her blond hair splaying out around her to frame her face.

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?” I ask suspiciously. “Don’t you mean you have a date Thursday night?”

  “Just what I said. See, Brandon’s friend Luka-“

  “Stop right there!” I interrupt. I narrow my eyes. “I don’t need a set-up. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend right now, Dara!”

  She nods, full of solemn sincerity. She makes her blue eyes as wide and innocent as possible. “I know. But Cam, sometimes you don’t go looking for love. Sometimes it finds you!” She sighs dramatically and leaps off the bed. “Please come, Cam. Even if it’s just to hang out and have fun.”

  I roll my eyes toward the ceiling, considering. At the same time I consider the date, I consider slapping Dara. I always have fun hanging out with Dara and Brandon. She’s my best friend, and she doesn’t ask me for much. Brandon is a nice guy, and I’ve seen Luka Caliper around at school. They play on the basketball team together. He’scute. Light-skinned, tall, with deep dimples in both cheeks.

  Okay, who am I kidding?

  He is gorgeous. We don’t have any classes together, though. I have never had a conversation with Luka.

  I sigh. “Alight, alright. I’m in for Thursday night. But don’t expect a love connection. This is just a friendly outing.”

  I pause, thinking.

  “God, does Luka think this is a date?”

  Dara grins broadly and hugs me tightly. “Oh, I’m sure he’s on board for the friendly outing thing. This is going to be so freaking awesome!”

  Freaking awesome or a freaking disaster. The jury is still out.

  Chapter 3

  Double Date

  “Oh, my God, that was so funny!” Dara laughs and links her arm through Brandon’s as we leave the theater.

  Brandon glances down at her. “I know, right? Funniest movie I’ve seen in a long time. Especially that one part.”

  They walk in front of us with an easy, casual grace that signifies their couple status. I smile just looking at them, feeling so happy for Dara. I am thrilled that she has finally found someone like Brandon. They just go together. It’s like they had been together all along.

  And on the flip side of my happiness lies a hint of lime-green envy. Because I haven’t found that yet. As much as I insist I’m not looking, it would be nice for love to sneak up behind me and bite me in the neck.

  What must it feel like, what she and Brandon have? I glance at Luka walking next to me. He is close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off his body. He’s like my own personal space heater.

  “So did you like the movie?” I ask him.

  Luka shrugs and eyes me from the corner of his eye. He really is cute. All night, he’s been a little on the quiet side but attentive at the same time. His toothy smile makes me feel special, wanted.

  “I’m a movie buff. I like all movies,” he replies.

  I nod in agreement. “I’m a movie buff too, but I’m more into action than comedy. It has to be just the right kind of funny for me to really appreciate it.”

  He bobs his head, the smile he aims at me slightly askew. “Was that one not the right kind of funny?”

  “Well,” I reply. “There were good parts, but most of them I had already seen in the previews.”

  “Yeah man, I hate it when they do that. Spoils everything, doesn’t it?”

  “Totally,” I agree.

  Dara glances back at us, turning around in Brandon’s arm and walking backwards. “So where do we eat?”

  Luka looks at me. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Italian,” I answer instantly.

  Dara rolls her eyes. “Stunner.”

  “What?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t always want Italian!”

  “Okay, to be fair, you don’t always want Italian. One out of three times you want Mexican.”

  Luka laughs.

  I smile, heat flooding my cheeks. “Well, I’m a woman of culture and good taste, what can I say?”

  Brandon chimes in, “Right. Taco Bell is really, really cultured and tasteful.”

  I shoot him an angry glare and open my mouth to reply.

  “Olive Garden it is!” Luka interjects quickly. He slings his arm around my shoulder and steers me toward Brandon’s Jeep. “Let’s go!”

  I let Luka guide me toward the Jeep, not sure how I feet about the close contact. This isn’t supposed to be a date, but Luka seems like a really nice guy. He was super easy to talk to, and the exact person girls are talking about when they say, “he ain’t bad to look at, either!” I don’t usually dig the dreadlocks thing, but they look natural on him, like he shouldn’t be wearing his hair any other way. He is tall, at least six inches taller than I am, which I like a lot. It’s nice to look up into his startlingly gorgeous eyes when he talks.

  But even though I like him, and I think he’s cute, am I really into him? I don’t know. What does that feel like? I guess we look like we go together.

  In a lot of people’s eyes, especially in southern Virginia, that counts for everything.

  But I don’t feel that way. To me, Luka feels like a friend, not a boyfriend.

  I sigh.

  When we arrive at the restaurant, a girl I recognize from school is leaning on the hostess stand, looking bored. She’s staring lazily into the distance, and one hand is cupped under her chin.

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

  Dara glances at me and narrows her eyes. “Is that—”?

  “Yep,” I reply, staring at Courtney Evans’ long black extensions as they bounce around her beautiful, light brown face. Courtney is a member of the P.B.G.C’s.; a card-carrying member of the clique. Courtney is also a cheerleader, and knows Brandon and Luka very well. She cheers at all of their games, and the cheerleaders always sponsor a basketball player to buy gifts for during basketball season. They spoil the boys rotten, offering to do any little task the players might require. For a lot of the cheerleaders, those tasks include flavors of the sexual variety. Which makes me want to stick my finger down my throat every time I look at a cheerleader.

  She looks up from the hostess stand when we approach. Her eyes widen.

  “Oh, hey Brandon. Hey Luka,” she greets them with a coy smile. “Y’all must have known I worked here and came for some free pasta! I can do that for you, you know.” She eyes them suggestively.

  Brandon glances at Dara, and then looks Courtney straight in the eye.

  “Hey Court, I didn’t know you worked here actually, but that’s cool. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. We just need a table for four.”

  Dara grabs his hand and stepped forward, her eyes narrowed on Courtney, daring her to say anything. She’s unable to resist the challenge that Courtney presents.

  “Oh, okay,” replies Courtney, the disappointment ebbing through her voice. She grabs four menus and heads off toward the back of the restaur
ant.

  When we arrive at our table, she tries again. Completely ignoring me, she turns to Luka.

  “So, Luka, you guys hitting the weight room hard to get ready for the season? You know I’m trying to pick your name this year for your Cheer Sweetheart. I have some real good ideas. You know, ways to loosen you up for those tough games. You definitely want a girl with real attitude to do that for you, don’t you?” She bites her bottom lip alluringly, knowing her words must be getting a rise out of him, and me, for different reasons.

  If she wants real attitude--

  Luka gazes at Courtney with blatant disbelief in his eyes. “Court, you may end up being my Cheer Sweetheart, but my private sweetheart is a different deal. And I’ve always felt that attitude is overrated. Don’t you think so Cam?” He pulls my chair out so I can sit.

  I can’t help it. My eyes light up. I practically savor his words, repeating them in my head. I thought guys like Luka always responded to girls like Courtney. Apparently she does too, judging by how close her jaw comes to touching the floor. She manages to pick it up, though, and sends a dangerous glance at Dara and then me. She flounces away toward the front of the restaurant.

  Brandon and Luka meet each other’s eyes across the table, and both burst out laughing.

  “Man, that girl is trippin’!” Brandon exclaims.

  “Dude, she always trippin’, Luka answers. The jovial tone is his voice is making my heart squeeze, just a little. “Thinking she can hook any dude she wants just by dropping hints that she’s easy as first grade math. I’m not even into all that.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Really? You’re not into a girl that wants to give you all the goods virtually for free?” I’m doubtful.

  Dara grins at me and throws her napkin at my face. “Didn’t he just prove it?”

  Luka looks at me. “Cam, I’m really not feeling her, or any other girl that wants to throw herself at me because I happen to be good with a basketball in my hands. Courtney doesn’t know anything else about me other than the fact that I can score on the court. “

  I nod. The surprise Luka just hit me with is still richocheting through my brain. “Well she didn’t seem too happy to see me with you. Or Dara with Brandon, for that matter.”

  “Yeah, I wonder what I did?” Dara asks indignantly. “I don’t even know that girl.”

  I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, but you’re on her radar now, and she’s not the only one. You’re dating Brandon, and you don’t look like them.” I glanced pointedly at Dara’s hand on the table, holding Brandon’s.

  She glances down, and her eyes widen. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! This is a race thing?”

  I roll my eyes. “Dara, you’ve been my best friend since first grade, and there’s nothing I don’t tell you. With some people, you know that everything is a race issue.”

  Just then, our server appears to ask us for our drink orders. For the rest of our evening, I’m lost in thought. Luka really surprised me. I didn’t expect him to take Courtney up on her offer right in front of us, but I definitely hadn’t expected him to completely diss her either. He is definitely different than I expected him to be. I know for a fact that the guys he calls his friends are sleeping around with every girl they can manage to get naked in the backseats of their cars. I’m not sure if Luka is one of those guys. Dara seems to think he deserves the benefit of the doubt. But I still only want to be his friend.

  Nothing more.

  Chapter 4

  Cooper

  The entire weekend is consumed with thinking about the date. Luka was engaging, considerate, and funny. He acted like he really wanted to hear what I had to say. He wanted to know more about my dancing, and even asked if he could come see a performance. I’d jokingly replied that he’d fall asleep in the middle, and he’d said he would be too mesmerized by my talents to even blink his eyes.

  When I pick Dara up the following Monday in my old Corolla, she gets in the passenger seat and slams her door. Then she turns, aiming the widest of grins my way.

  “What?” I asked, curious. As bubbly as Dara’s personality is, she’s usually at her worst first thing in the morning. I think her sun rises later than the rest of us. So her sudden burst of loveliness at this hour is chilling. I’m wondering if she might have had a little too much coffee this morning.

  “I’m just excited is all,” she replies. “We had such a good time this weekend. You and Luka seemed to really hit it off, huh?” She said Luka’s name like it was a dirty word. Lewkah.

  I roll my eyes. “We hung out one night, Dara. I wouldn’t call that hitting it off.”

  “Yeah, but you gave him your number, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’ll be friends.”

  I steer the car carefully into the driveway to the school parking lot.

  “Okay, Cam. Right. Because you don’t find Luka’s beautiful brown eyes, sexy-as-hell dreads, and tall gorgeous body at all attractive.”

  I laugh and punch her hard in the arm. “Shut up, Dara.”

  “Stop it,” she whines. “Or I’ll tell my boyfriend to kick your ass.”

  When I pull into a parking spot, Dara sweeps out of the car with her usual gusto for an impending Brandon sighting. I follow, only a little less enthusiastically.

  “Oh, there’s Brandon!” she squeals.

  And that was my cue to roll my eyes.

  As we stroll toward a cluster of benches nestled outside the school doors where Brandon stands waiting for Dara, a loud rumble causes me to glance over my shoulder back toward the parking lot. It reverberates through my bones, making my teeth clench together.

  “What’s that?” Dara asks.

  As my eyes narrow against the jarring sunlight, a cloud of sandy dust billows behind a sleek, bright orange and black motorcycle cruising into the lot. My eyes settle on the rider, who is hunched over the handlebars. His helmet, which matches his bike, reflects the bright sunlight with a polished gleam. He parks two spaces away from my car, and his bike engine dies. I notice that we weren’t the only students who stopped on their trek into the building to stare.

  As he straddles the bike, he reaches up and pulls off his helmet to reveal dark hair grazing the back of his neck. He rolls his shoulders, the black leather of his jacket reflecting the sunlight. He grabs a worn army-green messenger bag from the storage compartment in the seat of his motorcycle, and places his helmet under his arm. As he turns to face the front doors of the school building where we stand, I quickly turn to my friends.

  “Um…who is that?” I ask.

  Brandon shrugs. “I don’t know. New dude, I guess. His ride is hot. Wish I had one.”

  Dara links her arm through Brandon’s. “Oh, I think your Jeep is pretty hot, too.”

  He grins at her and kisses the top of her head as we walk into school.

  I part ways with Dara and Brandon and swing towards the Arts wing of the building.

  The Arts hallway is home to the theater department, the music rooms, and the dance studio. As a senior member of the Oceanview High dance department, I am currently working with my dance teacher to choreograph our school’s fall musical. This year we are putting on “Mamma Mia.” I’ve been working hard at home on choreography for each musical number, and brought some dance steps to run by Mrs. Bartos this morning before first period.

  “Good morning Camryn! How is the final section of “Dancing Queen” coming along?” Mrs. Bartos greets me with her Eastern European accent as I walk into the dance studio.

  “Almost done, Mrs. Bartos. I just had a question about the line spacing for ‘SOS.’”

  Mrs. Bartos and I put our heads together over steps until the bell rings, and then she quickly writes me a pass to get into my first period American Literature class.

  As I hurry to class, I have to pass by the main office. The door swing open as I rush past, and the boy I saw this morning on the motorcycle exited the glass-enclosed waiting area. His arms were full of his schedule and his helmet
and our eyes met. I stopped, stunned by the beauty in the green warmth of his.

  Oh, hell. The way my heart picked up was a sure sign of trouble, and I averted my eyes.

  “Hey,” he says, looking directly at me. “Do you know where D-112 is? It’s my first day.”

  I hesitate, a little floored by the brightness of his smile I have to look at him now that he’s speaking to me. “Um, yeah. That’s actually where I’m headed now, for Lit. You must have Taft.”

  He looks down at the schedule in his hand.

  “I do indeed,” he replies. “Lucky I ran into you, huh?”

  I’m sure my smile is faint; the flush in my face definitely not from the dancing I was doing a few minutes earlier. I heft my backpack higher on my shoulder. “It’s this way.”

  As I lead the way down the hall, I observe him out of the corner of my eye. He’s glancing at the dance shoes in my hand. I hadn’t had time to put them away. He sees me ogling.

  “Are you a dancer?”

  “I am,” I reply. “I was just working with my teacher this morning on some choreography for our fall musical.”

  “That’s cool. Smart, beautiful, and talented. I must have won a lottery in a past life that I didn’t know about.” He smiles at me, looking into my eyes. His smile is genuine and heart-stopping. At least for me and my heart.

  I look away, speechless. This guy is absolutely beautiful; I can’t deny it. I have never met anyone quite like him at school. Meaning anyone who makes me feel like a reptile in comparison and act like a complete idiot. And the fact that he pulled up to school this morning looking like some kind of action hero didn’t hurt, either.

  But I can’t be his type.

  He’s obviously flirt or a player. He’s too good at it not to be. I straighten my shoulders and turn into the stairwell. I haven’t made it through twelve years of school without getting flipped on my back by a pretty face just to drop my panties in front of one now.

  “Hey, you’re acting as my tour guide this morning, and I don’t even know your name,” he remarks.

  “Sorry. I’m Cam,” I say, meeting his stunning green eyes for the second time.