Colorblind

by Siera Maley

  “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.”

  * * *

&
nbsp; 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.”

  “You’re a good girlfriend, Harper.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and the sleepiness. She yawned again. “Well, I should probably get some shut-eye. Text me tomorrow? Bright and early, before you get distracted by the free resort pool?”

  “Okay. I will.” I didn’t want her to go, but I knew I couldn’t keep her on the phone forever. “Every hour again.”

  “Sounds perfect. I love you, Harper.”

  “I love you too, Chloe.”

  The call ended with a click, but I kept the phone against my ear. I felt like crying all over again.

  Dad was still oozing tension beside me, but it dissipated somewhat when he heard me sniff.

  “It was just one weekend, Harper,” he sighed out. “It would’ve been fine.”

  I didn’t have the willpower to argue with him. I couldn’t.

  We drove on, and I stared down at my phone as the minutes ticked by. Eight thirty passed. Then nine o’clock. Then nine thirty.

  Our drive progressed in complete silence. I felt the pressure in my stomach build, and my heart was pounding like it had right before the drop on the roller coaster Chloe’d forced me onto. I scrolled through photos on my phone, my ears ringing. We’d taken so many over the summer.

  I settled on one of the two of us by the lake and stared. I looked distracted in the picture because I’d been taking it. Chloe was kissing my cheek. I swallowed hard.

  At just past nine forty-five, we turned into our neighborhood and drove down the winding road that housed both my place and Chloe’s. I forced myself to look up. I saw the blue lights before Dad did.

  “What the…?” he murmured next to me. His car slowed to a stop in front of a crowd of our neighbors. They stood near three police cars, directly in front of Chloe’s house. A teenage boy who looked absolutely distraught and a mother who clutched him like he’d break if she let go were standing between a four-door car with a shattered windshield and the crowd, but Chloe and her parents weren’t there.

  The first tears swelled in my eyes and began to spill down my cheeks, and, completely numb, I flung open the passenger’s side door with my seatbelt still on and vomited out onto the street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I sat in the car while Dad got out to go talk to our neighbors. I felt incapable of doing anything other than staring straight ahead. My body wouldn’t react to my head, and my head couldn’t form coherent thoughts. I managed to glance down at my phone and saw the hand clutching it was trembling. Chloe’s picture was still up, and I let my phone slip through my fingers and onto the floor in front of my seat. Then I raised my hand to my mouth and let out a sob.

  That was how Dad found me when he came back to the car. He got in without saying anything, immediately slammed the door shut, and threw the car into reverse. Seconds later, we were speeding out of the neighborhood. I didn’t know where we were going. I couldn’t think.

  “It’ll be okay, honey,” he said to me, as though that was supposed to mean anything to me. I already knew it wouldn’t be okay. I’d known it wouldn’t be okay from the moment I’d met Chloe.

  I found the strength to retrieve my phone somehow. I’d thought of Robbie. I sent him a text that I wouldn’t remember sending later. There
were misspellings, but I’d meant to say “hospital”. I knew without Dad having to tell me that that was where we’d be going.

  He let me know I was correct sometime later, while we were still on our way, though not directly. He called Deborah. His voice was shaking, but I picked out bits and pieces. “Accident.” “Headed to hospital.” “Only ten minutes ago.”

  He hung up and took my hand in his. His palm was clammy and he was trembling. I knew I was, too, but I couldn’t feel it. I felt like I was watching all of it happen to someone else. I no longer felt like throwing up because I could feel myself shutting down. I didn’t want to feel what I’d felt when I was twelve again. I didn’t want to ever feel anything at all again.

  We parked near the emergency room at the hospital. Dad turned the keys and shut the car off, but left them in the ignition, he was so distracted. He hurried over to my side of the car and opened my door, then leaned over me to unbuckle my seatbelt when I didn’t move. When I still didn’t get out of the car, he knelt next to me and took my hand again. “Harper, look at me. She’ll be alright.”

  I pressed my lips together and felt more tears come. I hadn’t realized I’d had any hope left at all until he confirmed right to my face that it was Chloe.

  “I don’t want to go in,” I tried to say, but my mouth wouldn’t move. Dad kept urging me on, but he was speaking faster than my brain could process.

  “Harper, please. Harper,” he kept saying, until at last he gripped the car door and pressed his forehead to it, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Harper, we have to be there.”

  I recognized those words. I hadn’t wanted to go inside with Mom, either. I wondered if he was thinking of her now. If this was even about the girl I loved for him, or if he was just reliving losing the girl he loved.

  I turned and slipped out of the car, then stood on shaky legs. Dad collected himself and helped me walk across the parking lot. I’m not sure how I stayed up, but I did.