Colorblind (16 page)

“Drop the gun and put your hands where I can see them,” she joked. I tried to spin around and she immediately shot me, then grinned at me when we were face to face.

“Okay, so you got, like, four points. I still kicked your ass.”

“I improved. I said I’d get better, remember?”

“I actually only remember you telling me to ‘lose the boy’,” I admitted.

“Well, that too. It was fun without him.”

“I like Robbie.”

“Yeah, but you like me better.” Grinning, she leaned in to kiss me. I pressed my gun to her vest and pulled the trigger again just as the voice over the intercom told us our game was over. Chloe let her gun fall from her hands and laughed into my mouth even as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me closer. “Overly competitive nerd.”

* * *

I drove us home after we stopped nearby for some fast food, and Chloe stared out of her window for the better part of the trip. We’d had a fun day, but a part of me felt a little uneasy. I knew why.

Finally she asked, “Do you think every teenager in a relationship daydreams about getting married, and buying a house, and having pets or kids or
both,
and makes up names for them and all that dumb stuff, or am I just lame?”

“I don’t think about it,” I admitted, and then added when she turned and stared at me, “I mean, I’d like all of that, but nothing’s a guarantee in life and I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“I just wonder if those ninety-eight percent of teenage couples who’ll break up at some point
know
that they’re part of the ninety-eight percent. Like, do they sit around and go ‘eh, this is nice for now’, or do they actually have these embarrassing images of their future only to have it all destroyed in the end?”

I shot her a strange look. “That’s… Why on earth would you think about that?”

“Well, it’d be nice to know that the fact that I think about our future is some sort of indication that it might all come true. Like maybe it’s some sort of sign that we’re gonna be a thing for a long time.”

“I don’t think most people assume a relationship is doomed. Especially not teenagers. Most of us naively think we’ll never break up and that everything will go perfectly fine and we’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

“‘Naively?’ Harsh.” She turned away, and I could tell I’d hurt her feelings.

“I don’t mean it like that, Chloe. It’s just… it’s like you said. Ninety-eight percent of the time that’s not how it happens. Doesn’t that make it naïve to think you’re part of the two percent?”

“Well, if I’m the only one who bothers acting like we could be, I guess it does,” she said, her tone clipped.

I sighed quietly, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the road. “I’d marry you, Chloe. I’ve told you that. I meant it.”

“Then how do you not think about it?”

“Because I don’t want to think about something I might not ever have,” I shot back, with more force than I’d intended. The tension was palpable after I’d fallen silent.

“I was just trying to find a way to let you know that I think about having a life with you, is all,” Chloe mumbled at last. “Even if it seems naïve and stupid and even though we’re just teenagers and it’s only been a few weeks and we don’t know for sure how long this will last. I thought if you knew
I
thought about the future maybe you’d let yourself do the same. I thought maybe I could change the way you think about life.”

“You have,” I insisted. “Since we’ve met, you’ve changed a lot of things about me. But you can’t make everything better just by existing. Especially given that we can’t even control how long we’re around.”

“I don’t believe that. We all have a choice. I can’t believe everything’s pointless like you seem to sometimes.”

“Okay. You win. You’ve changed my mind.”

There was a long silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe fold her arms across her chest. “Don’t be petulant,” she mumbled. “It’s just exhausting to be around all the time, you know? You smile a lot around me but sometimes I get the feeling you’re holding back. Like if you enjoy life too much you might forget to hate it.” She sighed and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“What do you want? For me to say that I think about what kind of house we’d live in or what we’d name a dog? I don’t. I’m busy trying to get through every day.”

“Why does every day have to be some massive struggle? Why can’t you just enjoy it for what it is?”

“If you’re just with me because you want to fix me, you’re wasting your time. You have to accept that this isn’t going to change.”

“You think I’m that kind of person. Good to know.”

We pulled into my driveway and I sighed as I shut my car off. My phone buzzed as Chloe moved to get out of the car. “Wait,” I told her even as I looked at the message from my dad:
Got a suitcase packed for this weekend?

I paused, confused. I was going with my dad and Deborah? I’d thought it was just meant to be the two of them.

“Look, I’ll be home if you wanna hang out tomorrow,” Chloe mumbled, already backing away me. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “Let me know if you’re not too busy sadly pondering the futility of human existence or whatever. Sorry I
dared
to think of being happy one day.”

“Wait,” I sighed out again, and walked to her when she grudgingly paused. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, then let out a sharp breath and tried to relax. “I’m just scared to lose you, is all. I don’t want to think about the future because I can’t think about how perfect it could be without thinking about how it’d feel to lose it all.” I lowered my eyes, unable to look into hers as I lied, “Maybe that’ll change, but if it doesn’t, you have to be okay with it.”

“When does it end? When do you accept that you could be happy? When you’re married? When you have three dogs and financial stability and a job you enjoy and everything else people are meant to want out of life?”

“I don’t know.” I still didn’t look at her. “Maybe… ask me again in a month. Okay?”

“Okay, then. I will.” She said it like she was accepting a challenge. “Thirty days from today.”

“Okay.” I felt lower than dirt for even suggesting it in the first place, and for a moment, I was sure I was going to start crying.

The front door opened behind me and my dad popped his head out. “Hey, Harper, I checked your room; you forgot to pack?”

I turned around and sighed, “I didn’t know I was going, Dad. I’m really not in the mood.”

“Deborah’s got a business conference at a resort in Sacramento and she’s been gracious enough to make sure we got a room all three of us can stay in. There’s a pool there and a restaurant she’s been dying to show the both of us. She grew up there. I
told
you all of this. She’s going to be here soon and I won’t let you back out; it’s extremely rude.”

“I don’t want to go,” I repeated. “I’ll stay at Chloe’s.”

“I don’t think so,” Dad insisted.

Behind me, Chloe nudged me and added, “Go, Harper. Maybe we need a break. We can talk on Monday.”

“I don’t want a break. I-” I trailed off, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes again. I felt so hopeless. Chloe was upset and I couldn’t tell her why I felt the way I did, and my dad was going to make me leave her
while
she was upset and with three weeks to go until her birthday, and I didn’t know what to say to either of them to make things better. “I just want everything to be okay with us. I don’t want you to be mad at me; I just always say the wrong thing and I know I’m hard to be around sometimes. Please don’t be mad.”

I said this all to Chloe, visibly near tears, and she softened a little and reached out to wipe at my eyes. “I’ll text you,” she relented. “Okay? All weekend. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Even as she said it, the uneasy feeling I’d had all day began to intensify. A heavy knot formed in my stomach. I worried it was same feeling I’d gotten the night my mom had died, and then hated myself for not being able to remember.

I swallowed hard and turned back to my dad. “I’m staying here.”

Dad reached up to rub at his temples, and his jaw clenched with anger. “
Harper
. I have given you all the freedom in the world this summer. I’m asking you to please take two days to go on a free trip and stay in a free hotel with a free pool and room service. This isn’t exactly a chore.”

“Just let Chloe come too, then, I can-”

“Harper, go with your dad,” Chloe cut in. She stepped around to my front and took my hand in hers. “It sounds like fun. You guys should spend some time together. I hog you enough as it is.”

“You don’t understand; I can’t leave you. If I leave you…” I trailed off and closed my eyes, realizing how crazy I must’ve sounded. But I knew – I
knew
– that this ache I felt wasn’t there for no reason.

There were a lot of things I’d come to know that summer. That fate was unchangeable. That Chloe’s death was coming no matter what I did. That I had to accept those things because I’d drive myself crazy if I didn’t.

But that didn’t make it any less impossible to just let go. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t
ever
going to be ready.

“Can you just-” I choked out, and saw Chloe’s alarmed reaction to the tears that came rolling down my cheeks without warning. “Can you be safe?”

“It’s just a weekend,” she repeated. “I don’t understand.” But she reached out to wipe at my eyes again.

“Harper, this is a little ridiculous,” said my dad, who’d slipped out of the front door to join us now. “If leaving for two days is this upsetting, you two definitely need some time apart.”

“It’s just been a rough d-” Chloe started to say, and then seemed to change her mind when she realized that we’d actually had a perfectly fine day together. “We argued in the car, is all,” she said instead.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but you’ll have plenty of time to patch things up later. Right now Harper needs to come pack her bag; Deborah’s going to be here any minute now and I’d rather she not find out Harper didn’t want to go. It’d really hurt her feelings. Harper can call you later, Chloe.”

“Okay. I can go.” Chloe stepped away from me and I shook my head, my vision blurry.

“Wait. I’ll go in, Dad, just let me say goodbye.”

Dad sighed as I wiped at my eyes again, but I saw him soften. He reached out to pat me on the shoulder. “Alright, but please hurry.”

“I will.”

He left to head back inside, and Chloe, shooting me a sympathetic look, leaned in to give me a hug. I knew the second Dad was gone that I was going to lose it. I was trembling and as Chloe squeezed me tight, I cried into her shoulder. I knew I had to look absolutely insane to her then; she had no way of understanding why I was so upset.

“I don’t know what I said, but I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t get mad at you for being a little pessimistic. I can’t blame you after what you’ve been through.”

“It’s not your fault,” I sobbed out. “I’m sorry I’ve been awful. I’m sorry I didn’t smile enough and that I wouldn’t ride roller coasters with you and that I didn’t let you kiss me that first weekend when I knew I liked you too. I was just scared.”

“I get it. I know.” She squeezed me tighter. “It’s okay. It’s okay that we’re different. Maybe that’s what makes this whole thing work. You’d be boring if you were just like me.”

I pulled away from her and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “You are
not
boring.”

“I know. Neither are you. How many people out there have chocolate allergies? That’s totally weird and interesting.” I forced a small laugh and she smiled at me. “I’m gonna text you nonstop, okay? Because as much as I support you bonding with your dad and his girlfriend, that trip honestly sounds boring as hell. And my weekend will be boring without you. So I’ll also be texting you for selfish reasons. I kind of have no other friends.”

“I hogged your summer,” I said, sniffing.

“Trust me, that was
not
against my will.” She pulled me in for another tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again, and struggled to fight them off. She pulled away from me just enough to kiss me.

It was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life to pull away from her and walk away, but I did it. I walked backwards for the first few steps, eyes on her as she smiled at me and gave me a small wave goodbye. I glanced up at her forehead, felt myself fall apart all over again at the sight of the sixteen that still rested there, and then looked back down into her eyes. It was the first part of her I’d ever seen, and I wanted it to be the last, too, if this was the end for us.

Then I turned around and went inside, climbed up the stairs to my room, and broke down as I began to pack my bag, muffling my sobs with my arm as my vision began to blur all over again.

Chapter Twelve

I texted Robbie in the car as Deborah drove, feeling numb all over as I forced my thumbs to spell out my message.
“I think it’s this weekend. Dad made me go to Sacramento with him. I feel so helpless.”

I leaned my head against the window and stared at the back of the seat in front of me. We were in Deborah’s car. There was a fitness magazine that rested in the pocket on the back of the seat. My phone buzzed as I stared blankly at the cover. I looked down at Robbie’s message.

“I’m here.”

I felt empty, and I knew it was from more than just the thought of losing Chloe. Dad was starting a new life with his girlfriend. He was happy, and I couldn’t ruin that. I wouldn’t let myself lean on him again; he’d done enough for me over the past four years.

Robbie remained the sole person who knew and understood what I was going through. After Chloe was gone, he was all I’d really have. I wasn’t sure that’d be enough for me. I had nothing left to feel for anyone after Chloe was gone. She’d owned all of my heart, and I’d let her have it. I’d put down my walls long enough to let her invade and take over completely, even though I’d known all along that this was how it was going to end. I felt so stupid now, and I wondered what part of me had let myself be convinced that it was okay to fall for Chloe.

And I wondered what awful thing I’d done in a past life to deserve the one I had now.

* * *

After we’d settled into our hotel room in Sacramento that evening, Deborah and my dad insisted on going out to dinner. I’d requested that Chloe check in every hour or so, but Dad made me put up my phone for dinner.

I knew it was clear to them that I was distracted. I ate my food in silence, and could barely get it down. There was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t go away.

Deborah said something about it first, which surprised me. “Harper, are you alright? You seem quiet.”

“She’s got some relationship troubles,” Dad answered for me, shooting me a sympathetic smile and placing a hand on my shoulder. “She and Chloe had a little spat right before we left.”

“Oh.” Deborah looked taken aback. “I’m sorry to hear that. It wouldn’t have bothered me if you’d have wanted to stay back to patch things up with Chloe.”

“Oh, no, I wanted her to come,” Dad explained. “I think the change in scenery will be good for her, even if it’s for just a couple of days. She can talk to Chloe when she gets back.”

Deborah still looked dubious. Fed up, I reached down into my pants pocket and took out my phone. Dad sighed at me.

“Harper, we’re having dinner.”

“I don’t care,” I shot back, and promptly stood up and left the table.

I wound through the crowded restaurant until I was back by the front door. Outside, there were several benches where customers could sit while waiting to be seated. I found the most isolated bench and sat down, then checked my phone. No new texts from Chloe. I immediately dialed her number and closed my eyes, murmuring a silent prayer to whatever was up in the sky that she’d pick up.

She didn’t. I set my phone down beside me and slouched forward, my head in my hands. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

My phone buzzed beside me and I snatched at it. It was Chloe:
“In shower, call u 2nite.”

I let out a heavy breath and pocketed my phone. The front door to the restaurant swung open and it wasn’t Dad who emerged, but Deborah. She looked around for a moment before spotting me, and I prepared for an uncomfortable conversation as she headed toward me.

“Mind if I sit?” she asked. I shrugged my shoulders, and she joined me on the bench.

“Bet Dad’s pissed,” I mumbled. “Is that why he sent you?”

“He didn’t send me,” she admitted. “I asked him to let me talk to you. I think maybe it’s a little hard to talk about your relationships with your own parent. Especially a dad, as his daughter.”

“I don’t know you very well,” I reminded her quietly. “Why bother? You and my dad haven’t even been dating for that long.”

“That’s true. But I do like him.” She paused, and then leaned back against the bench. I could feel her gaze on the side of my face, but kept my own eyes on my lap. “I’m sorry he made you come here for the weekend. I remember what it was like to be a teenage girl. The person you’re dating sort of becomes your whole world.”

“Don’t say it like that,” I countered. “Like it’s this immature teenage thing and like it’s a phase that’ll pass. Besides, I’m not upset because of some dumb fight.”

She fell silent at that for a moment. “…Well, would you like to talk about what’s upsetting you?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

She let out a light laugh. “Oh, honey, I think I’d understand a whole lot better than you’d think. Like I said: I’ve been a teenage girl before.”

“Did you lose a mother when you were twelve, too?” I snapped, and she was quiet again.

“No,” she admitted at last. “But I did lose my husband. I know the pain never quite goes away. And sometimes it shows up when you least expect it to.”

“Do you ever get afraid you’ll lose someone again?” I asked, gaze still on my lap. I was stiff and unmoving and it still felt impossible to swallow. Even speaking didn’t feel natural; it was like every syllable had to be pushed from my throat.

“That’s a tough question,” said Deborah. “I think…” She trailed off, and then let out a sigh. “You know, I think feeling that kind of pain again is utterly terrifying. But I think a big part of healing is coming to terms with the fact that it’s a part of life, and that while it does hurt, it doesn’t outweigh the good times we got to share with that person before their death.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” I told her. “I don’t understand why. I don’t remember my mother very much anymore.” I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes and struggled to fight them off. “All I can think about is losing the people I care about. I… I don’t want to lose Chloe. I don’t want to forget her.”

“Harper, Chloe seems to really like you. I don’t think she’s going anywhere, and I’m sure she’s safe at home.”

I shook my head. “I knew when it happened to Mom. I got this feeling… and I was right. And I think I have it again. I need to be with her. I know you have your business stuff but I’m not okay being here right now. When it happened with Mom I didn’t trust it and I’m not making that mistake again. Even if I can’t stop it, I just want to be there.”

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks and finally turned to Deborah, who was watching me with furrowed eyebrows. I noticed, with muted surprise, that one of her hands had moved to rest against her stomach. She let out a deep breath, and then nodded once, shortly.

“Then let’s go.”

Both of my eyebrows shot up. “What? Really?”

“Of course. My meeting isn’t until tomorrow afternoon. The drive is short enough. If it’ll help you feel better, we’ll go.”

“What’s going on?” That was Dad, who’d walked outside and approached us just in time to hear Deborah’s offer. “Deb, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Deborah insisted. “She doesn’t feel well. I’ll take her home; you can just hold the hotel room for me and I’ll be back tonight.”

“Deb, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Deborah repeated. She stood, already digging into her purse for her car keys. “Harper, you don’t need your suitcase, do you?”

I shook my head quickly, hardly daring to believe this was actually happening. “No, it can come back with you guys on Sunday.”

“Deb,” Dad tried to interrupt, but when he saw she wasn’t changing her mind, he said instead, “You need a good night’s sleep. I’ll take her back.”

“Will you?” I challenged him, uncertain.

“I don’t like it,” Dad told me, “and I think you’re very lucky Deborah’s being so nice to you. But if she’s okay with you going back, I’d rather take you back myself than ask her to make the drive.” He glanced over his shoulder with a disappointed shake of his head. “Let me go pay the bill and we’ll leave.”

He turned to head back into the restaurant, and Deborah offered me a small smile.

“Thank you,” I told her, still a little stunned.

“Say hello to Chloe for me,” she replied simply. “She’s a very sweet girl.”

“I will. Thank you. I will.”

* * *

It would be a two-hour drive back to San Francisco at most; at least, an hour and a half. Dad was tense beside me in the driver’s seat, but he was the furthest thing from my mind.

I checked the clock on my phone. It was almost eight. I hadn’t heard from Chloe in nearly an hour.

I scrolled through my contact list until I reached her number, pressed it, and then lifted the phone to my ear. As it rang, I closed my eyes and murmured a quiet plea to whatever was doing this to her that it’d hold off for just a little while longer. I wanted to see her again. I needed to.

“Hey, Harper. How’s the hotel?”

I let out a sigh of relief, but struggled with an answer. Chloe sounded a little sleepy, and even as I opened my mouth to respond, I heard her let out a yawn.

“It’s good,” I said at last. “Are you about to sleep?” Maybe I’d come over and join her for the night. Surprise her.

“Yep. Laser tag wore me out; you have no idea.”

“So you’re not doing anything?”

“Nah. Might put on a movie or something until I fall asleep, but that’s it. What about you?”

“Um, I don’t know. You’re really not leaving the house?”

She sounded a little amused when she replied. “Not unless my parents have some sort of surprise trip waiting for me. They’re downstairs watching TV right now, though, so that seems pretty unlikely. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes,” I lied. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you too. But your dad’s probably right. We’ve been attached at the hip. A few days apart won’t hurt.”

My heart sank, and I began to reconsider showing up at her house. If she really was just going to go to sleep for the night soon, then maybe I had more time, anyway. Maybe I had another day. At this point, another day felt like another lifetime.

“You’re not still upset with me for today, are you?” I asked her.

“Of course not. I guess I just… think it’s kind of sad, you know? You don’t deserve what happened to you, and it’s so sad that it’s changed you so much. That doesn’t mean I don’t adore who you are, but I just want to see you happy.”

“You make me happy,” I told her. “So just… just stick around, okay?”

“That’s the plan. Stick around, you graduate, I graduate, we go to colleges that are close by-”

“Or to the same one,” I suggested.

“Exactly. We’ll room together after I get there. I’ll join a sorority and then quit when I get tired of having to bring boys to date nights; you’ll have taken a ton of Philosophy classes your freshman year and you’ll annoy the hell out of me. Livin’ the dream.”

“Philosophy is Robbie’s thing,” I corrected, unable to stop the corners of my lips from curling up despite myself. “I think I’d hate it.”

“Well, you’d take Intro to Video Games or something dumb like that, then. Does that exist? Anyway, then you graduate and get your degree in…?”

I paused, uncertain. I had no idea what major I was interested in. But I wanted to play along for her. “How about… Computer Science?”

“Okay, so you get a Computer Science degree and become like this world class hacker, but like a legit one that gets hired by companies to try and hack into their systems to test their security. My dad knew a guy who did that. And I’ll get a Finance degree so that when you inevitably go rogue and illegally hack millions of dollars into our joint bank account, I know how to keep it safe and how to invest it while we’re on the run.”

“With our two children named Bonnie and Clyde,” I added, and she let out a laugh.

“Yes! Perfect. And our dog. No! Wait. One of those overly fluffy white cats that always sits on the main villain’s lap in cheesy movies. We’ll name it Mr. Piddles as an homage to Dana Fairbanks from The L Word.”

“Baxter has to come, too.”

“He’ll be old by then, so he might slow us down. Don’t want dead weight with us when getting caught means that Bonnie and Clyde will be left in foster care with no money.”

“Leave them some in an offshore untraceable bank account somewhere.”

“I like the way you think,” she said, laughing again, and we fell into a comfortable silence.

“Something tells me it wouldn’t actually go that way,” I said at last. “But it’s nice to imagine it anyway.”

“The real version would involve a lot less crime and a lot more boring domesticity. But I have a feeling it’d somehow be even better.”

“We can only hope,” I said, my smile gone by now.

“It’s not so bad, is it? Hoping?” she asked me. “What’s life without something to hope for?”

I closed my eyes, phone still pressed to my ear. “You’re right. You’ve always been right.”