Seven Shades of You

by Johnson, A. M.

  She laughed, her head rolling back. “Piety doesn’t look good on you.”

  “Daphne,” I said her name in a calm whisper and pressed my thumb and finger to the bridge of my nose.

  “If you hadn’t found me in the bar that night over break… you would’ve what? Gone home with a stranger? I helped you that night. Help me now.” She tried to place her hands on my chest again, and I gently took her wrists and lowered them to her sides.

  “Yes.” I backed off, creating distance between us. “I would’ve gone home with anyone that night if they were willing.”

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand and swayed where she stood. “I don’t want a do over, I—”

  “Good, because it’s never happening again.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I want a number, you have to know someone.”

  “No.”

  “No, you won’t give me a number, or no, you don’t know anyone?”

  “I don’t know anyone, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you. This shit could kill you, Daph.”

  She ran her hands through her greasy hair. “I have it under control.”

  “Obviously.” I reached for the door.

  “Kai, please. I’m hurting.” She started to cry, and I couldn’t tell if she was for real or trying to reel me into the rabbit hole. “Fucking Imogen.”

  “You’ve been taking her meds?” I asked.

  “So, what? She doesn’t use them anymore. She got a prescription for Adderall to help her study, but didn’t like how it made her feel. It was wasteful. I helped myself.”

  “Adderall is dangerous if you don’t need it for an actual diagnosed reason, Daphne.”

  “You know my diagnosis.”

  “Shitty parenting is not a diagnosis.”

  “Shitty parenting was enough for you to get wasted and fuck me.”

  “Get out.” The muscles in my arms and shoulders contracted, my control the only thing stopping me from picking her up and physically removing her from my room.

  “I’m sorry.” She raised her hand to touch my face and I opened the bedroom door a crack.

  “Don’t.”

  “I didn’t mean your mom, I didn’t mean it… I…” The mascara streaking down her cheeks was the only human thing about her in that moment. “I didn’t mean your mom.”

  She stared at the floor as I measured my anger.

  “Let me help you, I can take you to the Emergency Room.”

  “No way.” She shook her head hard and fast.

  Anger had always led me down the wrong road, and if I let her walk out of here tonight, the prospects were horrifying. Someone could take advantage of her. What would she be willing to do to get what she needed? What if she couldn’t find any pills and ended up taking something worse.

  “Stay here, sleep it off. I’ll take the couch. In the morning we could go to the campus clinic together.” Her face was blank of emotion. “I was in a bad way that night over break, and I didn’t realize you were, too. I used you to escape, and that makes me the biggest fucking asshole on the planet, but if I let you walk out of this dorm tonight, it would be unforgivable.”

  “I used you, too,” she whispered and wiped under her eyes. “I can’t stay here.”

  “You have no choice.” I shut the door and locked it. “It’s here or the E.R., Daphne, and I’ll sleep on the floor in front of the damn door if I have to.”

  She sat down on my bed and let her head fall into her palms. Her shoulders shook as her chest opened up with wet sobs. I didn’t sit next to her, affording her a somewhat private breakdown. I didn’t have anyone with me when I was sitting at rock bottom, and I was lucky to still be breathing.

  She sniffled and patted the mattress. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

  “Actually I do. I wasn’t lying, we were a one-time thing, and you’re in no place—”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  I ignored her, grabbing a hoodie from my desk chair to use as a pillow. Sleeping on a hard floor wasn’t ideal for my shoulder, but I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t bolt the minute I fell asleep on the couch. At least this way, I’d have a better chance of hearing her if she tried to leave.

  Daphne kicked off her shoes and lay flat on my bed. Her eyes on the ceiling, she said, “Thank you.”

  Royal’s laugh filtered through the wall as I turned off my light, reminding me I’d have to skip the gym in the morning to get Daphne to the clinic. I couldn’t tell him Daphne’s business, especially since she was Indie’s roommate, but I didn’t want him thinking this sleepover was anything but platonic. Stretching out on my floor, the strain of this day pressed my lids closed, and I told myself I’d worry about everything in the morning.

  A light thump on the wall, a low voice, maybe Camden or Royal, I couldn’t tell, made my eyes pop open.

  “Are they always this loud?” Daphne asked.

  “They usually stay at Royal’s place.” I shoved the hoodie into a tighter ball and rolled onto my side.

  “One nice thing about having a virginal roommate… quiet nights.”

  The word virginal spun in my head over and over. I’d watched as Indie used all the strength in her arms, throwing paint onto the canvas. Intent and passionate… I internally cringed as heat gathered at the base of my spine. I shouldn’t be thinking about heat or that fucking word… virgin.

  “Maybe if I’d been raised by artists and not addicts, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  I suppressed my groan and rolled onto my back. “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing… Everything…” Daphne exhaled in the dark, the tension pouring from her lungs. She was wired. “Indie… Royal… they’re so perfect.”

  “No one is perfect.”

  “I don’t really know Royal, but Indie is perfect. Well, not perfect-perfect… there’s always the voices thing, which is crazy, but still, I’d swap places with her in a heartbeat. In a freaking heartbeat. Perfect family, hot brother, and Christ, she can paint.”

  The voices…

  It was an invasion of Indie’s privacy, Daphne rambling on and on, and I hadn’t had a chance to process everything she’d already blurted out before she dropped another bombshell of information.

  “She crushes on you.”

  “Stop talking.”

  The gruff command didn’t faze her. “You invited me to stay, and I can’t sleep.” I heard her shift to the edge of the bed. “Why do you ignore her?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”

  “You do. It’s like Indie doesn’t exist to you. At least, that’s what she thinks.”

  I swallowed, an ache forming under my ribs. “She said that?”

  Daphne rolled away from me, the springs of my mattress singing, and disregarded my question. “Kai?”

  “Still here.”

  “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s all I’ve got.”

  I waited for a response, but Daphne had gone quiet. She’d either fallen asleep or was too lost in her own thoughts to pester me with any more of her verbal digressions. As for me, I was wide awake, thinking about Indie. Virginal. Voices. Crush. These words, her secrets, private pieces Daphne had inadvertently given me, and it didn’t matter how long or how many times I tried to fit them all together, turning them in every direction, the puzzle pieces wouldn’t fit. I’m not sure when I finally dozed off, but I dreamt about a girl named Pink, and no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find her.

  The next morning I was startled awake by a loud knock, forgetting how the hell I’d ended up on my floor.

  “Kai?” Royal whisper-shouted and it all came back to me like an ice cold bucket of water on my head.

  “Shit.” I scrambled to my feet and stared at my empty mattress.

  She was gone.

  “It’s four-forty-five.” I opened the door and he cringed. “Sorry, I didn’
t want to wake—”

  “There’s no one here. I’ll be out in a second.” I hadn’t meant to shut the door in his face, but I needed a second to regroup.

  Daphne shouldn’t be my problem, but she’d forced my hand last night. I grabbed my phone from the desk, the notification light flashing.

  I opened the lock screen and read the awaiting text.

  Daphne: Didn’t want to wake you. Thank you for last night. I wouldn’t have made it without you.

  Me: Please tell me you’ll go to the clinic today.

  I tossed my phone into my gym bag, changed out of last night’s jeans and threw on a hoodie and sweats. Royal had waited for me, sitting on the couch, playing some game on his phone.

  “I’m going to brush my teeth. Grab us a couple protein bars from the pantry?” It wasn’t really a pantry, but a coat closet where I stored all my dry goods.

  “Sure.” He pocketed his phone, and I closed the bathroom door.

  I splashed cold water on my face, shocking myself into submission. I had too many questions running through my head. Daphne was like a wrecking ball, creating havoc everywhere she landed. I worried how long it would take her to find someone willing to share their pills. And everything she’d said last night had been on a constant loop. Invisible. Crush. Voices. I’d deleted the virginal thing as inconsequential. Indie and I—there was no Indie and I. We were barely becoming friends and that’s all we would ever be.

  I used the towel hanging on the back of the door to dry away the heavy beads of water clinging to my face and lashes. I glanced at myself in the mirror before I left. Dark circles shadowed my eyes. I’d shown up at the gym half-drunk more times than I cared to remember, this was nothing. I pushed down my exhaustion and taped on a smile as I met Royal in the living room.

  “Long night?” he asked, the innuendo blatant.

  “She’s just a friend.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not kidding.”

  “I said okay.”

  Comfortable with the silence, we’d made our way to the main doors of Garrison Hall before he asked, “If you were more than friends… you’d tell me?”

  It was damp, the rain more like sleet, cut like a knife to the bone. “Probably.” I grinned and pulled my hood over my head.

  “I tell you everything.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  He bumped his shoulder into mine. “It could get complicated… if it ends badly, she’s my sister’s roommate.”

  “I’m not into Daphne.” I stopped, not giving a shit about the weather, or that I couldn’t feel my toes or my fingertips. “She’s pretty low right now, and I know what that feels like. I want to help her if I can.”

  “You’re supposed to be working on you.”

  The fog left behind by our breath dispersed in the sudden wind. “I am.”

  We continued toward the gym, our pace faster than before, the elements winning. “Good.”

  I didn’t roll my eyes, or give him a smart-ass comment. For starters, I was too tired to be witty, and he was right. I couldn’t be Daphne’s savior when I was still trying to save myself.

  “She said she’d get help… said she’d make an appointment at the clinic.”

  “If you want I could ask Indie to—”

  “Don’t involve your sister. If Daphne wanted her help she would have asked.”

  He nodded, and by the time we got to the gym, we were both frozen through. Royal shed his damp hoodie, revealing a shirt underneath, and I regretted not grabbing a dry shirt for myself. He guessed as much, and once we were in the locker room, he unzipped his bag and threw a shirt at me.

  “Give it to Camden after you wash it.”

  I stripped out of my soaked sweatshirt. “You expect me to wash it?”

  He pushed his finger into my cheek. “So funny.”

  “Do I want to know where that finger’s been?” I asked, pulling the dry shirt over my head.

  The material stretched as I tugged it down over my chest. It was a size too small, but it was warm.

  “It’s too early for this shit.” Corbin practically fell onto the bench behind us, drenched from head to toe. “I swear to God it never used to rain this much.”

  “Didn’t you say that last week?” Dev asked, slinging his bag onto the floor at Corbin’s feet. “Watch it, don’t get my bag wet.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You wish.”

  Dev’s chuckle was cut short as Coach yelled from his office door. “Enough dicking around, I want you all ready and in the weight room in five minutes.”

  “Great, he’s in a mood.” Corbin replaced his wet shoes with the pair he kept in his locker.

  “I think the Canucks lost last night,” Royal said as he shut his locker.

  “We’re screwed.” I smirked.

  Dev’s grimace was comical. “You’re a masochist.”

  “You know it.”

  We managed to finish getting dressed without any further bickering. Royal and I always teamed up for weight training, and Dev and Corbin wandered off to find their usual partners. Luckily, Sherman stuck to himself, and the rest of the guys trickled in a few minutes later. The first few sets weren’t that bad, but the sleepless night reared its ugly head as I tried to bench press an extra five pounds, per Coach’s order. The addition was minimal, something I should have been able to do without issue, but I could feel the pain of it deep inside the curve of my shoulder.

  “Stop.” Royal took the bar from my hands and I slid out from underneath it. “You’ll pull something.”

  I stretched my arm across my chest and winced. “Shit, I overdid it.”

  “You think?” Royal removed the weights from the bar. “Have you had anyone look at it yet?”

  “No.”

  “No?” he gave me a look that would make my mother cower.

  “Chill. It’s feeling better, but if it’s still bugging me next week, I’ll make an appointment after my therapy session.”

  “I accept that plan.”

  “Thanks, your Highness.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He loaded his weights on the bar, and I debated whether or not I should ask him about his sister. What Daphne had unearthed last night hadn’t faded with my morning routine, or the pain in my shoulder.

  I pressed my lips together until my curiosity got the best of me. “By the way… I ran into Indie at the Behavioral Health Center.”

  His hands hesitated over the weights. “Oh?”

  “She didn’t mention it?”

  “No.” He finished loading his bar and I moved, letting him take his place on the bench. He waited, his jaw working in the process. “She’s extremely private about … everything.” Royal met my curious gaze. “Don’t say anything to anyone about—”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “I know. But I wanted to make it clear. That’s not up for discussion, unless she says it is.”

  “Noted.”

  Lying down, he wrapped his fingers around the bar. “Thanks.”

  The tension in his shoulders relaxed, but mine remained. Royal didn’t say much after I’d opened my big mouth, not until we were back in the locker room, he asked, “You going to answer that?”

  My phone vibrated on the top of my bag and I saw my dad’s name flash on the screen.

  “Not right now.”

  Royal headed to the shower, and I picked up my phone once the screen went dead. I had a message from Daphne. A missed call from my mom and the one from my dad. I bypassed all of them and pulled up my contacts.

  Me: Can I stop by tonight?

  I didn’t think she’d respond right away, but my phone buzzed in my hand before I could put it back in my bag.

  Indie: The studio?

  Me: I feel like crashing your art party.

  She sent a single red balloon emoji.

  Me: Is that a yes?

  Indie: You don’t need an invitation. It’s open to all the students.

  Me: Will bring fo
od for help.

  Indie: Just bring you.

  Just bring me…

  I could do that.

  And maybe a question or two.

  Indigo

  Wednesday night was my least favorite in the studio, usually I didn’t show up until after eleven. The evening sculpture class ended at nine, but the students always loitered, finishing up their projects for the night. Most of them were nice, sending meaningful smiles from their secret corner of the studio. Some of them never bothered to lift their heads at all. I felt a kinship to those particular students. Art wasn’t a spectator sport.

  Normally, I would’ve been with Camden right now, biding my time with my head on his lap, listening to whatever new music he’d found that week, and making a playlist to bring to the studio with me later. But tonight, I found myself with headphones covering my ears, absorbed in the instrumentals from last week’s playlist, surrounded by familiar strangers, working on my present for Camden, and worried when Kai would show. I knew he had swim practice only because Royal had swim practice, but I wasn’t sure if he would come straight from the Aquatic Center or not. I ignored the negative thoughts in my head, promising me he wouldn’t show, that his sudden interest in me was most likely an attempt to boost his grade, and chose to focus on the tiny, black musical notes I was meticulously painting onto the canvas. My fingers trembled slightly from the painstaking effort. They needed to look like notes, not black splotches.

  A light touch made me jump, and I was grateful I didn’t have my brush to the canvas. I steeled my irritation, expecting to see Kai standing behind me. Instead, I was met with a giant, off-kilter smile I didn’t recognize. I pulled my headphones around my neck only to catch half of what he was saying. “…so dope. I’ve never seen you here, are you new?”

  I stared at the dark mop of hair that hid his eyebrows and shadowed a pair of almond-shaped gray eyes. When I didn’t answer immediately, he held out his hand. “Hunter. Sculpture major.” His thin lips pulled back almost to his ears, his teeth overly white.

  I waited a few seconds longer than socially acceptable before I took his hand. His palm was dry and calloused, rough against my skin. “Indie. Art major.”