Color Blind Page 8

  The kids he’s been hanging out with at school… he’s joined their band, Fire and Glory.

  And he is mind-blowingly good.

  I watch his fingers strum his guitar, and I hear the last strains of the song he’s obviously written fade into the crashing waves at the shoreline.

  His eyes find mine from his place on the stage, and I there’s something in them I’ve never imagined existed behind his playful smile and flirty behavior.

  “Wow,” Dara says softly, coming up beside me. “Did you know he could do that?”

  “No,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse all of a sudden, and I grasp my throat. “I didn’t.”

  My back is burning, and I turn to see Luka’s eyes searing into mine from across the fire. The pain evident there makes them cloudy, and they leave mine to glance back at the stage where Cooper is still standing.

  I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. They’re still full of Cooper’s song. The memory of it is making my head swim with confusion and an emotion I can’t identify.

  “I’m going to take a walk,” I tell Dara.

  “Okay,” she says. “Come back soon.” Her eyes tell me she understands. Best friends always do.

  I walk toward the dark stretch of beach beyond the bonfire. Staring out at the waves always clears my head. The beach feels like home to me, where I feel the most relaxed. I hope that feeling will kick in tonight.

  I sit down just before the place where the froth meets the sand. I stretch out my legs and remove my boots, so the ocean can cover my toes.

  Cooper’s song flows through my mind like the waves on the sand, over and over again. Luka’s painful gaze chases the lyrics through my head.

  I feel movement next to me, and I look up.

  Cooper stands next to me, looking like a Fallen angel with his dark hair cascading down over his forehead and his black leather jacket glinting in the moonlight.

  “Hey,” his voice is soft, more heavenly than devilish.

  “Hey,” I reply. I’m as brilliant as usual in Cooper’s presence.

  “Can I sit?”

  I shrug. “Sure. Public place and all.”

  He sits, and draws his knees up to his chest. His gaze is directed out at the ocean, and I pull mine away from him to stare at the waves again.

  Sitting next to him out here in the dark, with only the sand and sea foam for company is making my stomach flutter in a familiar way. I pull my legs up to my abdomen and wrap my arms around them.

  “So,” he says. “Why are you out here all by yourself? Why aren’t you with your friends, having a good time? Or your date?”

  “I don’t have a date,” I reply.

  His eyebrows shoot skyward, and his eyes meet mine.

  “You sing,” I blurt out. I seem to blurt a lot when I’m with Cooper. Word regurgitation is inevitable when we’re together.

  “I do,” he says. “I told you that.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting—“ I stop, trying to gather my thoughts so I don’t sound like an idiot.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting, but not that,” I finish quietly.

  “I was lucky to land a spot in Fire and Glory. They had just lost their lead guitarist, and I auditioned and got it. We’ve been practicing for this gig a few weeks now. I wrote the song we just sang.”

  “It was beautiful,” I admit. “You have crazy talent. What do you want to do after graduation?”

  “I don’t have an exact plan yet,” he says. “But I have to do music. It’s like breathing for me. I write every single day, and I sing and play my guitar all the time. I wouldn’t have survived anything in my life without it.”

  It’s true. I could hear edges of pain in his voice when he sang. It tipped me off to the fact that he he’s been through things most of us teenagers can’t even begin to imagine. Even me, with my daddy issues and low-budget lifestyle. He seems older than the rest of us, and he’s sliced with battle-scars.

  I reach out and put my hand over his.

  “What have you survived?” I have to know.

  He’s quiet for a moment, and I’m worried I have crossed a line he isn’t ready for.

  His fingers squeeze mine reassuringly. “It’s fine. I want to talk to you about it.”

  So I wait.

  “Basically, I just have a fucked up family. I don’t come from a place like the rest of you. My dad’s dead. It happened when I was little, so I don’t remember him.”

  I’m silent, listening. If he needs someone to talk to, I’ll be his ears.

  “My mom has been with a bunch of different guys since then, none of them any good for her or me. The last guy, she married him. He sent her to the hospital a few months ago, and I had to—I had to get him off of her or he would have killed her. He’s a bad guy, Cam…into some really shadyshit. That’s when she decided we should move down here and live with my aunt. I couldn’t wait to get away from our life in Maryland. This feels like a fresh start. Erasing the hell we left back there, you know?”

  I reach out and place my palm on his cheek. He leans in to my touch. This beautiful boy, with his perfect face and chiseled body, seems so above it all. I can’t believe what he’s been through in his life. And I’m sure he hasn’t even scratched the surface of what he’s suffered. It didn’t seem like he’s told me all of it.

  “Where does music fit into all of that?” I ask him.

  “It probably fits in the exact same place where dance fits for you. We haven’t had the same tribulations, but we have the same therapy. Music keeps me sane, helps me deal. It picks me back up when I’ve been kicked so hard I feel like I should just stay down. Life is nothing without it. Well, it was nothing.”

  “What was the name of that song Fire and Glory performed tonight?”

  “’’Now,’” he replies.

  I want to know something else, but I am too afraid to ask. I look down at the sand.

  Cooper lifts my chin with one finger, immobilizing my face. “Do you want to know what the song was about?”

  I nod, feeling the fluttering in my stomach take off like a flock of birds.

  “Then ask me that, Cam. I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable just saying what you want to say in front of me.”

  “What was the song about, Cooper?”

  His finger lingers on my chin, caressing, drawing tiny circles. “Remember after the musical, when I told you I had something for you? I wanted to sing it for you then. When I got you alone. When I moved here, I was looking for a clean slate. I had been through so much; I just wanted one normal year of high school, where I wasn’t afraid for my mother’s safety or mine. It was my first day here, and I literally run into the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  I look down. My hand is still clasped in his. The difference in our hands is striking, at least to me. His hand is big, large enough to cover mine completely. My fingers are long and thin, his are thick and powerful with worn, strong knuckles.

  My hand is dark brown, the color of dark chocolate. His is the same shade as a delicious Blondie bar, tanned from riding his motorcycle in the autumn sun.

  He doesn’t even seem to care, or notice the differences; the things he is saying about me---it’s as if there is nothing different about us at all.

  Cooper Goode doesn’t care that I am black, and he is white.

  My heart soars when I finally realize this.

  “And after I met you,” he continues. “I knew I wanted you in my life. No, I knew I needed you there. So I wrote the song, and I’m just lucky I was able to play it in a venue where you could hear it. And know how I felt.”

  My eyes lift to his. I’m not expecting the burning heat that lights them on fire. His eyes are literally smoldering for me, and I can’t help it. My eyes dart to his lips, and he licks them. My mouth is crushed against his before I can think about it, and we are like two magnets drawn together by a physical force.

  He doesn’t even seem startled by the kiss. His mouth answers mine like my lips
belong exactly where they are, entangled with his. His arms encircle me, and I melt against his body with a sigh. My whole being trembles with electricity, and I can’t—no, won’t—break this connection. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I’m finally home. When we finally break free of the kiss, I know I am changed.

  Cooper Goode has undone me.

  He leans his forehead against mine, breathing heavily. He places his hands on either side of my face. “Well, that did it.”

  “Did what?” I ask, just as breathless as he is.

  “You’ve completely fucked me up. Now I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to acting like I don’t exist on Monday.”

  My mouth drops open. “Cooper! I do not act like you don’t exist. We have a class together and I see you at lunch every day.”

  “I know that, Cam, but I have no place in your world. Sometimes I feel like you are actually avoiding me like the plague. There have been several days where I run in the bathroom and check my armpits, just to make sure I’m not repelling you with my stink.”

  “It’s not you, Cooper,” I reply, smiling.

  “What is it? The fact that you’re with Luka?”

  I sigh. “I’m not with Luka. Everyone thinks that, but we are not officially a couple. And I told him that I haven’t figured out if I want to be.” I drew lines in the sand with one finger.

  “So, if you’re not Luka’s girlfriend, then why have you been ignoring me?”

  Cooper ducks his head, trying to look into my eyes.

  “Because…everything I feel for you scares the hell out of me.”

  His face cracks into a beaming smile.

  “Finally. A hint of honesty from you. I could tell all along you weren’t feeling Luka. It’s like you’ve been doing what everyone expects you to do or something. Do you, Cam. Just do you. If that doesn’t include me, then that’s fine. But I don’t want to see you in a relationship that doesn’t excite you just because people expect it. And don’t let the fact that I look different than any other guy you’ve ever dated stop this from happening.”

  Tonight I have to admit something. My happiness does include Cooper, no matter how hard I have tried to fight it.

  When Cooper and I walk back from our time together on the beach, the bonfire is in full swing. The band is back onstage, just waiting for their lead guitarist so they can play another set.

  Cooper squeezes my hand, and I look up at him.

  “Do you,” he whispers. He jogs back to the stage, and straps on his guitar.

  As the band begins to play, I walk over to Dara, where she is sitting on some driftwood with Brandon and Luka, some other basketball players, and some of my friends from the dance team.

  I sit down, suddenly feeling very tired.

  Luka’s eyes meet mine. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Just walking,” I answer. “I’m not really in a partying mood tonight.”

  “Are you going home?” Dara asks me, an understanding glint in her eye.

  “I think so,” I reply. “I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

  As I leave the party, I look back once, to see the bonfire blazing up into the cloudless night sky. I know that something is different. I’m ready to be myself, or at least try to figure out who that is exactly.

  Chapter 9

  Turning Point

  I start awake, struggling between the strangeness of my nightmare and the cool darkness of my bedroom. I sit up in bed, gazing around the room with distrust and confusion. With a sigh I sink back down into my pillow, my eyes wide open against the blanketing darkness.

  What happened in that place behind my eyelids that had scared me so badly? I try to recall.

  A vision of female figures drifts slowly toward me through a haze of brain-fog. I remember dreaming about girls from school. Not any girls in particular. Faceless girls. Mocking me. Pushing me? No, more like shoving. I was pummeled this way and that, crashing into lockers, my body parts ramming into the hard edges of doorways.

  And their voices! Calling me “white girl,” over and over again.

  I try to think about the reason the P.B.G.C.’S cruelty disturbs me enough to carry the discomfort into my personal, private dreamland. It’Sa violation I don’t appreciate. I don’t want them there, not for a moment.

  It bothers me because they don’t know me. They haven’t bothered to get to know me. They’re like snowballs. One person’s ugly and unfair opinion rolls down a snowy hill, right into the next person’s until a large orb barrels down a long, steep, mountain. I am standing at the bottom, waiting for their jaded views to knock me to my knees.

  I reach for my phone, glancing at the time as I pull up my contacts. Three thirty-seven AM. I didn’t care. Somehow, I know he’ll answer.

  “Hello?” Cooper’s sleep-drunk voice answers his phone. I let out a huge breath, hearing the whoosh as it leaves me. His voice sounds so good, so close next to my ear that I close my eyes and squeeze my phone a little tighter just to get him closer.

  “Cooper. It’s me,” I say.

  “Cam?” he asks, instantly more alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “I—I had a bad dream. A nightmare, really,” I answer, still unsure of why I have called him in the first place.

  He is quiet for a moment.

  “Cooper?” I ask, worried I dropped the call.

  “Imagine my arms wrapping around you.” He is still on the phone with me.

  “What?” I ask, unsure if I heard him correctly.

  “You heard me. Imagine my arms wrapping around you. Feel the safety of my embrace, Cam. You remember how that feels?” His voice is low and steady, and I feel chill bumps rise on my arms that have nothing to do with fear.

  “Yes,” I breathe. Because I do remember. Vividly. I close my eyes and picture him lying next to me.

  “Now my lips are next to your ear, whispering. Don’t be afraid, Cam. Nothing can hurt you. Not with me standing next to you. I’m here.”

  I fall silent, soaking in the reverie his words create in my mind. I forget the fear that accompanies the nightmare. I forget the struggles I deal with regarding the P.B.G.C.’s. I forget everything but him.

  “Cam. How are you feeling now?” he asks.

  “Much better,” I admitted.

  “Good. Now step outside. I’m already dressed and about to be on the way over. Text me your address.”

  “Cooper, you don’t have to—“

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to see you. Right now. Text me the address.” He hangs up.

  I text him the address and then pull on sweatpants to go over the underwear I was wearing to bed. I adjust my plain black tank top in my mirror, and then I head outside, closing the door quietly behind me.

  As I wait, I marvel at how quickly he has jumped out of bed to come and see me. A smile so big my cheeks hurt is plastered across my face. I sit on a bench in the courtyard across the street from my apartment building. The sky is dotted with stars, and I tilt my head upward to stare at them. It’s so quiet, even the bullfrogs have ended their song for the night and the crickets are no longer chirping. I don’t think I’ve ever been outside at this hour, but it’s incredibly peaceful.

  My heart rate picks up as I hear the sound of a motorcycle engine disrupting the quiet night, and then Cooper swings around the corner on his Ninja. He guns the engine as he arrives in the lot and coasts to a stop in a space near the street. He’s already spotted me, because he begins walking over to my bench as soon as he removes his helmet.

  I take one look at him and laugh.

  “You felt the need to wear your pajamas to see me?” I choke out.

  He looks down at the striped pajama bottoms covering his legs.

  “It’s late,” he declares, indignant. “Or early. Either way, this is what you get when you wake my ass up at almost four in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling bad now.

  He plops down next to me and places his helmet on the bench beside him. He reac
hes out and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together.

  “Don’t be,” he says. “I’d drop everything and come running if you needed me to.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Make it all go away. When I talk to you, Cooper, I feel the rest of the planet dissolve away. It’s like when you’re standing next to me, I’m fearless. I can do anything. How do you do that?”

  Cooper chuckles softly and caresses the back of my hand with his thumb, causing a shiver of pleasure to crawl up my spine.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you the very same question, Camryn Grimes, since I rode up to Oceanview and saw you standing out in front of the building. Since I met you, I’ve been able to think of nothing else but the day you would become mine. I’m still waiting for that day. But now…I feel it. It’s closer, Cam. You called me tonight, not Luka. Not Dara. Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “Luka…is amazing. He’s good to me. My mom loves him. Everyone says we belong together. But—“ I stop.

  “What, Camryn? Tell me,” he demands. He drops my hand and wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer to him on the bench. I rest my head on his shoulder.

  “But he doesn’t make me feel the way you do,” I say simply.

  It’s the absolute truth. No barriers or walls are up, keeping me from saying how I feel. This is the real Cam, talking to the real Cooper, and he deserves the truth. Luka is a wonderful guy. But not once have I had the pure, unadulterated physical reaction to him that I have to Cooper every single time he’s near me. With Luka, it’s warm and homey, like warm honey drizzled over a biscuit. With Cooper, it’s electric. I need to push closer and closer to him, because when I’m not I feel like a limb is missing. And I know it’s crazy, because we haven’t known each other long. I can’t deny the truth anymore, though, because it’s too hard to stay away from someone I want more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  And right then, the realization slams into me. Luka is perfect, but he isn’t perfect for me. Maybe he is on paper, but not inside my heart and inside my soul. Cooper is mine. And I am his.