An Array of Colors

I knew Cobalt could see right through me, but he had no evidence. I hated it when people understood that I was hiding things. I knew it was obvious that I was in the closet, and I didn’t really care about that. I think everyone could tell. But I hated that Cobalt knew I had more motives of hiding other than not being beaten up, although that was a big factor.

I was a little smug though as well, because I could see through Cobalt. He was obviously a neglected child, but he didn’t really seem to think he was. I’d seen that drawing of the dead girl at the bottom of the pool so it was also clear that he didn’t like religion by that cross necklace strangling her.

I’m a perceptive person. I learned to pick things up through people watching which used to be all I ever did. It was easy to do when you didn’t talk because then you didn’t have to worry about getting distracted. Everyone had known about my ‘disability’ and no one ever spoke to me except the occasional teacher who tried to squeeze a word or two out of me. Of course, they never succeeded.

Eventually I’d finally talked and once I had I was still quiet but a few people could get me to speak. My parents had been two of them. Violet another. But once my father had died of cancer I started talking again because I knew that’s what he would want. I would respond to almost everyone, but it doesn’t mean I’d say anything important or that I talked a lot. I just did it enough so I wouldn’t disappoint my father.

That was the last thing I’d ever want. He and my mother were the ones who meant to most to me. Now my mom and I were like glue when she was actually home. But it was hard for her and she was either out clubbing or at work. She was usually at work though. She rarely had to call me because she was drunk either. She was responsible, just sorrowful and never around.

I missed her so much. It’d been so hard to lose my dad, but subsequently I’d also lost my mother. Maybe not literally, but it was just as good as literal.

Now my only companion was art. Violet didn’t think to call me anymore and she ignored my calls. I think it was because right before I left she’d told me she had loved me. She knew I was gay too. It was just that she couldn’t make her feelings go away. And I know how that is, love isn’t from the brain obviously. In fact, they’re completely separate things. You can’t command yourself not to love someone like you can command your muscles to flex or your arm to move. It’s just hard to accept sometimes that it’s out of your control. Especially when you know you’ll never have a chance.

I heard the bell ring signaling sixth period.

Slowly I gathered up my books and walked to my next class. I had been here for three days already and I was now starting to get into the swing of things. I knew where all my classes were now and I was familiar with most of the people’s faces.

I faltered as I walked through the doorway and saw Cobalt sitting in the seat next to mine. He hadn’t previously been in this class…

I sat down just as the bell rang and our teacher came over to us.

“This is Cobalt, he transferred from his other AP English class because of complications…Anyway, today we’re starting a project and you will be working with the person next to you. I will be giving each of you a topic and you’ll have to write a narrative poem about it,” Mrs. Bazaar told us.

“Um…miss? How long does it have to be?” one of the knock off people who’d just managed to get into this class asked.

“Well, since it’s a narrative and you’re AP students it should be at least two pages but I expect more from some of our better writers. I hope to get more from all of you.”

I couldn’t tell if I was imagining it, but it seemed as if she looked over in my direction. And I don’t know how she could know that I’m a writer if she’s never had me before…

“Now, you’ll pick from this hat and choose your topic. There will be no changes I don’t care if you get clowns and you are absolutely terrified of them, you will keep your topic. Hopefully you’ll get something good, but someone has to get the bad stuff.”

I watched as she walked down the row and finally landed on us. The last to pick. And mostly everyone else had seemed to like their results so it wasn’t looking too good for us.

I reached slowly out to take the slip of paper when my hand brushed against another soft warm one. I pulled away like he was a leper even though I relished the contact. But I was straight here. Just brushing hands with him could tarnish my reputation. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I knew that I didn’t fit in here, but I wasn’t an outcast either. Surprisingly people had believed my unbelievable story about me being straight.

“Sorry, you do the honors,” Cobalt nudged me, giving a slight smile.

I couldn’t help but smile back. His eyes were just so beautiful and his smile was radiant.

Reaching my hand back in I pulled out the tiny slip.

‘Internal struggles’

That was the greatest theme we could have gotten. Now I bet he expected me to spill my heart out to him and tell him I’m gay. Well, he’s not getting it. If he’s naïve enough to think that he doesn’t deserve me to tell him.

I saw his face drop as well as he glanced at the paper. Maybe he hated this topic too. We could always bullshit it. I bet if we made it cheesy and convincing enough that she’d buy it. ‘Cause I can tell neither of us are going to write the other a book. But it’s okay because I don’t want his tears. I have enough on my own. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want mine.