River Rat
Blue
The next weeks went by slowly and painfully. My father had gotten his job, leaving me alone with Ethan all day every day, which wasn't something to be happy about. Despite him being extremely cute, he was annoying and extremely persistent. He tried to find every way to butter up to me, to no avail.
He helped me with my chores, tried to come out and swim with me, offered to take me out (I scoffed and walked away each time at that). He simply wouldn't give up. And I had a strange feeling that dad wouldn't get rid of him until I was "fixed".
"Need some help?" Ethan had suddenly said behind me, making me jump and drop the boxes I was carrying in from the garage. Their contents splattered all over the floor and I whipped around to glare at Ethan, not answering his question. He bent down anyway and helped, without my permission.
"Would you just leave me alone?" I asked tiredly, only wanting some privacy. He looked up at me, his eyes twinkling. Why did he have to be so cute?
"Because gentlemen help ladies," he answered simply, putting everything carefully back into the box it had fallen out of. He stopped suddenly, picking up a picture frame. My heart skipped a beat as I watched him handle the picture ever so carefully. "Is this you?" he asked, pointing to the little girl in the picture. I nodded in response.
He seemed to be thinking. I took this time to stare at him, then blushed when he looked over at me. I looked away and he spoke again. "That's your mom, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," I practically whispered. "This is all of her stuff."
"You really loved her," he said, and it wasn't even a question. I said yes anyway, just for something to say. "Do you want me to leave? I didn't realize this was ... personal business," Ethan said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. I shook my head and he continued helping me.
When we'd piled everything back up in their boxes he carried half of them and helped me bring them to my room. When I'd had everything in its place he walked away silently, his hands in his pockets. I sighed as I watched him leave, scolding myself for wanting to follow. I did anyway, despite what my better judgement was telling me.
I found him in the spare room, looking at nothing in particular. I strode slowly over to him, my arms crossed across my chest. He hardly glanced at me as I sat down next to him and stared straight ahead, just as he was doing.
"I'm sorry, for being so beside myself," I apologized without looking at him. "It's just been tough. I just can't get close to anyone anymore. I hope you understand."
He was silent for a while, only nodding to himself. The light from the window across from us played across his face, making him look strangely dark in comparison. "I do understand," he said slowly. "But I'm not giving up." He looked up at me and straight into his eyes. I looked back and noticed how gorgeous his eyes were. Green, just like mom's.
"Why?" I asked breathlessly.
"I can't let you be sad for the rest of your life. Your dad loves you and to be quite honest, I really want to get to know the real you. All I've gotten so far is that you're stubborn and you like the water," he explained.
"Blue," I said suddenly, without even thinking about it.
"What?"
"My favorite color is blue," I told him, looking at him one last time before exiting the room.
He helped me with my chores, tried to come out and swim with me, offered to take me out (I scoffed and walked away each time at that). He simply wouldn't give up. And I had a strange feeling that dad wouldn't get rid of him until I was "fixed".
"Need some help?" Ethan had suddenly said behind me, making me jump and drop the boxes I was carrying in from the garage. Their contents splattered all over the floor and I whipped around to glare at Ethan, not answering his question. He bent down anyway and helped, without my permission.
"Would you just leave me alone?" I asked tiredly, only wanting some privacy. He looked up at me, his eyes twinkling. Why did he have to be so cute?
"Because gentlemen help ladies," he answered simply, putting everything carefully back into the box it had fallen out of. He stopped suddenly, picking up a picture frame. My heart skipped a beat as I watched him handle the picture ever so carefully. "Is this you?" he asked, pointing to the little girl in the picture. I nodded in response.
He seemed to be thinking. I took this time to stare at him, then blushed when he looked over at me. I looked away and he spoke again. "That's your mom, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," I practically whispered. "This is all of her stuff."
"You really loved her," he said, and it wasn't even a question. I said yes anyway, just for something to say. "Do you want me to leave? I didn't realize this was ... personal business," Ethan said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. I shook my head and he continued helping me.
When we'd piled everything back up in their boxes he carried half of them and helped me bring them to my room. When I'd had everything in its place he walked away silently, his hands in his pockets. I sighed as I watched him leave, scolding myself for wanting to follow. I did anyway, despite what my better judgement was telling me.
I found him in the spare room, looking at nothing in particular. I strode slowly over to him, my arms crossed across my chest. He hardly glanced at me as I sat down next to him and stared straight ahead, just as he was doing.
"I'm sorry, for being so beside myself," I apologized without looking at him. "It's just been tough. I just can't get close to anyone anymore. I hope you understand."
He was silent for a while, only nodding to himself. The light from the window across from us played across his face, making him look strangely dark in comparison. "I do understand," he said slowly. "But I'm not giving up." He looked up at me and straight into his eyes. I looked back and noticed how gorgeous his eyes were. Green, just like mom's.
"Why?" I asked breathlessly.
"I can't let you be sad for the rest of your life. Your dad loves you and to be quite honest, I really want to get to know the real you. All I've gotten so far is that you're stubborn and you like the water," he explained.
"Blue," I said suddenly, without even thinking about it.
"What?"
"My favorite color is blue," I told him, looking at him one last time before exiting the room.