Your Inaccessible Light

Once the dye is rinsed out and my hair has dried, my hair is a gorgeous shade of pastel pink. I opted for that figuring that bright pink may be a bit too much, because pastel pink totally isn’t too much. Personally, I absolutely adore it, then again, I am a bit eccentric like that. Ronnie says it looks a lot better than he thought it would, but he has now nicknamed me marshmallow. He leaves at about four to go and get ready for the show and meet the guys. He convinces me to go to the show and bring Harlee and Amber along, but I tell him we have to leave promptly afterwards because we’re staying at Amber’s.

“Hello,” mum says as cheerfully as she can manage when she gets home.

“Hi.”

“You dyed your hair,” she observes, her eyes widened.

“Yeah, my friend dyed it for me today.”

“It’s very bright.”

“I like it though.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m going out tonight by the way.”

“Where to?”

“I’m going to stay at Amber’s.”

“Okay.” That is the end of that. We don’t speak anymore after that. Instead I go about preparing dinner and my mother gets on with some chores, both ignoring each other’s existence because that’s all we know nowadays. I take my food up to my room so I can get ready while I eat, only to realise it is unexpectedly difficult to find an outfit which does not clash with my hair. I eventually settle on a plain black dress with some black boots. I find Austin’s old burgundy hoodie and wear it over the top because it’s getting cold outside. It dresses the outfit down a bit but that doesn’t bother me because I’d rather be comfy and warm than fashionable. Amber picks me up mid-evening and then we go and pick up Harlee, who is more in love with my hair than I am. She spends the entire car journey trying to persuade Amber to dye her hair purple so then we can be some crazily coloured hair trio but Amber just laughs and tells her to stop being so ridiculous. I can’t imagine Amber with her hair any colour other than brown. Don’t get me wrong, she’s an amazing person and she’s so much fun, but her personality isn’t as vibrant and eccentric as ours’. I like her natural colour a lot anyway.

Having had a wonderful evening as expected, we head home. Once we are back at Amber’s, we make a bed on her living room floor out of blankets and duvets and pillows which is surprisingly comfy. We eat popcorn and watch movies and I feel a lot more relaxed than I thought I would. I’m beginning to get used to socialising again. I guess because I’m a naturally confident person, I find it a lot easier than some people. Besides, Harlee and Amber are easy to get along with.

“I need to ask you something,” Harlee declares once the movie has finished, sitting cross-legged and turning to face me.

“Go ahead,” I say.

“What’s going on with you and Ronnie? And please don’t keep saying ‘nothing’ or ‘I don’t know’ because that’s a crappy answer and it’s obviously not nothing. Do you like him? Does he like you? Are you like friends with benefits or something?”

“Mind your own.”

“So you are?”

“What?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“No.”

“Then what’s going on? You can trust us. I swear, I won’t tell anyone, not even Keegan.” I weigh up my options in my head, trying to work out for myself exactly what the deal is with Ronnie and I. Nothing particularly ground-breaking has happened between us but maybe I could tell them how I feel about him. I trust them not to tell anyone and it’s not like they will judge me for it.

“There’s nothing going on…but sometimes I wish there was,” I admit, feeling my cheeks blush red.

“I knew it, I knew it,” Harlee cries triumphantly.

“Harlee, let her talk,” Amber instructs.

“Ever since I’ve met him, I’ve always felt kinda weird around him. He gives me butterflies and stuff and he understands me. Everybody’s so scared of him but I’m not. He doesn’t scare me at all,” I explain, deciding to skip the fact that he scares me when he’s drunk. I spent the next few minutes telling them almost everything about mine and Ronnie’s friendship. Of course, I miss out any details related to my brother, or Ronnie’s brother for that matter. I don’t tell them about the fact he’s seen me cry more times than my own parents have. I don’t tell them the secrets that only Ronnie and I know about each other.

“Do you think he likes you too?”

“No way. You know better than I do that Ronnie’s only interested in girls for sex.”

“I know but I think this might be different,” Harlee explains, “He’s so sweet to you and even though I don’t see you together a lot, when I do it’s really cute. He cares about you so much. You literally have him wrapped around your finger.”

“I do not,” I cry defensively.

"Okay so, what about the fact he took you to LA completely out of the blue? Or how he came to watch you at sports day and believe me, he never turns up to school activities. He came round your house when you were off sick. Even Keegan doesn’t do that to me and we’re official. You can’t deny how much you two were flirting at the show tonight.”

“And how he protected you the other week when you ran into those drunk guys,” Amber adds.

“That was really sweet,” I smile, blushing again. I don’t know why I am being like this. I’m never like this. I’m turning into such a girl.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think Ronnie might have a crush,” Amber giggles. I don’t know if I believe them or not. A part of me thinks the idea of Ronnie falling for someone, particularly me, is completely ridiculous but another part of me thinks Harlee and Amber do make a good point; if Ronnie has never been like this to any other girl, it must mean something right?