Rainbow Eyes

Aurora

“Aurora. Wake up!” I heard a voice hiss above me.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled, stuffing my face in the pillow.

“Aurora!” the person shook me, and I turned over, hitting them in the face.

The person hit me back. I sat up straight and glared at Rephaim. “What?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You hit me first.”

I shoved him, standing up and glancing at the clock. Thirty more minutes till school. Rephaim was already ready, wearing an old pair of jeans and a red T-shirt. Meh? I was still in my shorts and T-shirt.

I rubbed my eyes and picked out a blue shirt that said “Beauty Lies in the Ears of the Beholder” written in a pair of retro headphones and a pair of new skinny jeans I’d just bought 70% off. I added my worn, old lime green Converse. It was the best I could do. Luckily, the caseworkers always made sure that we had decent clothes on our backs. Too bad they didn’t make sure we had food in our stomachs. I didn’t have anything but an orange for lunch today. That was the most Ms. Chaley would give me. Rephaim had an apple, which wasn’t much better.

I headed to the bathroom where I took a quick shower and dried my hair with a towel. My hair was easy to dry, and towel drying made it soft and shiny. I paused, looking at myself in the mirror for a second. “Rephaim, do you think I should wear my hair up or down?”

“I don’t know,” Rephaim sighed exasperatedly. I ended up leaving it down. I leave my hair down sometimes, if I’m sure it won’t get in the way. Like I said before, it’s 2’9”, very long. Whenever I’m playing sports or painting, it’s always up.

“Let’s go,” I told Rephaim, who was listening to his iPod. I slung my black canvas bag over my shoulder. It held my binder for school, my orange, Rephaim’s apple, my phone and iPod, and my sketchbook.

He picked up his binder and shoved his phone, keys, and iPod in his giant pockets. “Want some?” he offered a piece of Five gum to me.

I gaped. “How did you get this?” I demanded.

He grinned. “Zach.” Zach was sort of like the orphanage’s drug dealer. But instead of dealing pot, marijuana, and crack, he dealt out luxuries that we could never get our hands on, such as gum and soda.

I grinned and took a piece of gum, closing my eyes and smiling as I tasted it. I then stuck it to the roof of my mouth so Ms. Chaley wouldn’t catch us if she was awake. We greeted several other kids, and walked to the bus stop with them.

As I saw a group of blonde girl wearing the latest fashions, I had a vague flashback of when I went to a new school in second grade.

Back then, I had a caring foster family. I remember wearing an old dress of the older sister’s, my hair slicked back in two ponytails. A little girl wearing a flouncy pink dress with curled blonde hair had said, “You’re that orphan girl, right?” I had nodded. Her voice had faltered. “But…your hair is brushed and your clothes match your shoes.”

“I know. I have a nice foster family now. You should’ve seen my old ones.” Then I ragged about how they let me go hungry for days and abused me. She suddenly became interested and I had about 50 new eager ears, yearning to hear my story. Later that afternoon, I had been expelled for making up violent tales.

“Aurora?” Rephaim asked.

“Yeah?” I turned to him.

“Nothing…,” he mumbled.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

I shrugged and waited as the bus came. I sat next to Rephaim and blankly stared out the window until our bus came.

The halls were crowded, and I had to struggle past people to get to my classes. First was English with Mr. Davidson. As soon as I walked into class, the first thing I noticed was a boy with curly brown hair staring straight at me.

Ian

When I saw her, the first thing I thought was, “Her eyes hold every emotion possible to man and every secret that it hurts me. I can read her rainbow eyes too well.”

Then I jerked back and blinked my eyes rapidly. Whoa, why did I think that? Why did I say that? I didn’t even know this girl! Or even her name!

I tried to look away, but I kept staring at her. It wasn’t because she was pretty (although she was pretty). It was because of the pain and hurt in her eyes. The inability to trust. Her eyes weren’t rainbow, although I couldn’t tell what color they were. They seemed to change slowly from blue, to green, to hazel, to brown like a rainbow lava lamp.

Our teacher, Mr. Davidson, showed her the seating chart and she walked over and came to sit by me. Talk about fate.

“Hey, I’m Ian,” I introduced myself.

“Hi, Ian,” she replied. I waited for her to say her own name, but she didn’t.

“You know, when typical people introduce themselves, the other person does the same thing,” I told her.

“Well, I’m not your typical person,” she replied, smiling at me.

“I can see that. So what’s your name?” I asked her, since she wouldn’t straight-out tell me.

“Aurora,” she replied.

“Aurora. That’s a pretty name,” I told her. It was a pretty name and it fit her. With the whole rainbow-thing, I could easily think of Aurora borealis and think of her.

Then, I said something that surprised both of us. I asked her, “Hey, do you want to go get some ice cream after school? I know the best place.”

She hesitated, surprised by the offer. Then she replied, “Umm , I’d love to, but I have a friend who I’m supposed to go home with today.”

“Bring her along,” I answered.

“It’s a him,” she corrected me. I was surprised, but didn’t say anything. I wondered if she was talking about her boyfriend.

But I swallowed my suspicions and said, “Bring him along.”

She paused and then answered. “Okay.”