Rainbow Eyes

The next day after school, I had to go to work and meet the family who I was working for, the Moreau’s, son.

I quickly stuffed my books into my bag as Rephaim leaned against my locker. “So do you want me to pick you up after work?” he asked.

“Nah, I’ll walk,” I responded.

“You sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll probably miss dinner so be sure to save some for me,” I added.

“Okay. Well, bye,” Rephaim called as he walked off.

“Bye!” I called back.

The sky was cloudy and the weather was windy as I walked to the Moreaus’ house. Trees
swayed back and forth, as if dancing. A cold blast of wind blew past me, and I pulled my hoody tighter around me.

I pulled out the house key I had to their house and unlocked the door. At first I had found it incredibly strange that they’d given me a house key to their house, but then I realized that they trusted everybody fully, unlike me. I only trusted Rephaim and his aunt. I was learning to trust the Moreaus’ because they treated me so well. Not everybody was a screw-up like me.

I stepped into the foyer and walked into the kitchen, searching for Mr. or Mrs. Moreau. I could only see a boy with curly brownish hair sitting at the island, looking through a book. As he looked up, I immediately recognized those eyes.

“Ian?”

“Aurora?” he asked back. He put down his book and stood up. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here, what are you doing here?” I asked him. Maybe…maybe he was just visiting a friend. Maybe the Moreaus’ son was his friend. Oh, just maybe…

“You’re the muralist?? But…oh, never mind. I live here,” he told me.

Ugh! Really! Luck wasn’t on my side today…

He noticed my look and grinned. “What, they never told you about me?”

“They told me lots about you. Everything except your name,” I rolled my eyes.

He laughed and then paused. “But…wait, I don’t understand. They said that the girl who worked here lived in an orphanage. They told me that her life hadn’t been very good and that I’d better treat her with respect and to let her have her privacy. What did they mean by that?”

Ugh. Why, oh, why did the Moreaus have to tell Ian that?

I squeezed my eyes shut and then stepped away. “Maybe I’d just get to my work,” I mumbled, leaving the kitchen.

Ian was behind me in a second. He rushed after me and grabbed my hand. His grip wasn’t iron tight, it was gentle. But I had a feeling that if I tried o pull away, he wouldn’t let me.

“Aurora...,” his voice was pleading and questioning at the same time.

I ignored him. Ian was the last person I wanted to vent to about my screwed up life. Like Rephaim had said, to him I was just another. How was he better than any other guy? I bet once the tears started to fall and I started to talk, he would slip a “comforting” arm around me and make his move.

“Aurora…please. I really want to know,” he pleaded.

I turned toward him. “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know that you’re no going to blab this to everyone in school?”

He looked hurt for a second. “I won’t. I swear. You can trust me,” he said firmly. What he said didn’t convince me. What he did didn’t convince me. It was the hurt in his startling blue eyes, the look that made me instantly trust him.

I didn’t know why, but I sighed and said, “Fine. I’ll tell you.”

He let go of my hand and made me sit down next to him at the island.

“Fine. My mom was a prostitute and my dad a very successful businessman. I was a mistake. The whole ‘didn’t use a condom’ thing. I was never meant to be born. Anyway, when I was born, my dad wanted nothing to do with me since he though having a kid with a prostitute would ruin his image. I only have one memory of him. When I was two, he snuck into our house late at night. I remember my mom screaming at him and throwing things at him, and then I remember him picking me up, saying ‘hi’, kissing my cheek and then putting me down, leaving some money with my mom, and leaving. That was it. I lived with my mom until I was three. She was a nice mom when we were alone, but she often left me alone at home for days on end when she slept at guys’ houses and partied. We also were barely living. We didn’t have that much money. So when the police found my mom selling drugs on the streets while holding me in her arms, they arrested her. I was kept in foster care for three years, until my mom finally signed the form saying that she gave me up and I was no longer her child anymore and I was allowed to be taken to an orphanage and adopted. I was officially an orphan. That was when I met Rephaim. When I was six years old. We immediately became the best of friends. He had it a little better than me. His parents died in a boating accident and he had a couple aunts and uncles who couldn’t afford to take care of him. But they visit him fairly often. At least he’s loved. Anyway, the lady at the orphanage abuses us a lot. I’d rather not get into that, though. It’s verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. That’s it.” I sighed and leaned against the counter, suddenly needing water.

Ian was quiet, and then said, “Wow.”

“That’s all you can say? I pour out my whole life story to you and all you can say is ‘wow’?” I demanded.

He gave me a faint smile and then paused. “I was right. As soon as I saw you on that first day, I thought ‘Rainbow eyes’. Immediately. I have no idea why, or what it meant. Now I know. It’s because your eyes hold so much emotion, all that you just can’t tell.”

It was my turn to be quiet. That was a little weird. But before I could react, Ian leaned in, grasped my shoulders, and gently kissed me. I was shocked, an after about five seconds, put my hands on his chest and shoved him off.

“What are you doing??” I gasped.

“Kissing you,” he looked a little confused but there was a playful smile on his lips. He was probably thinking that I was playing. After all, I bet no girl has ever said ‘no’ to Ian before.
“This is exactly what I thought would happen!” I yelled. “Of course, I would tell you my life story, act poor and vulnerable, and then you would make your move and kiss me! What the hell?!? I never even showed you I was interested in you! But, of course, that’s what a player like you would do. Make your move on a girl. What were you going to do next, feel me up? I’m not interested. I bet that’s hard to get into your head, right? That a girl would say no to Ian? Get over it,” I mumbled the last part and got up from the table, tears forming in my eyes as I stalked toward the storage room and set up all the painting supplies.

My vision was blurry from the tears and I nearly fell down the stairs while going downstairs toward the room that needed to be painted.

At least Ian hadn’t stolen my first kiss, which would have been even worse. At least my first kiss had been with someone I trusted. I had kissed Rephaim a few times, the first time being when I was twelve and he was thirteen. But I don’t really feel like getting into that.

I opened the door to the room and resumed my work on the first wall, painting with hard, angry brush strokes. I would vent to Rephaim when I got home.