Diamondback

16: Pink Nightmares

A smeared blur of orange, pink, white, and a color that I could barely define as yellow.

A turmoil of voices surrounded me, but out of all the presences, one stood out the most. Something close to what I've always heard people describe angels to be like. In the midst of the commotion, a small, soft object laid itself on top of my hand.

"You must be Z͖̲̒ͣ͠y͇̳̼̩̓ͬ́̓̀p̵̣̼̩̒h̵̦̙̙̱̝̄̋ͅé̫̭̤̾̋́̚r̶͔͍̤̞͖̬͕̰̿."

The picture began to make sense of itself. A manicured hand was in mine and a pair of long, beautiful legs was in front of me. When I looked up, I was face-to-face with Eliza. Her intelligent pink eyes sparkled down on me, her strawberry blonde hair that moved with every head movement was carefully brushed, her orange sundress gracefully whipped around in the slight breeze.

"How do you..."

"Know that?" she giggled. "I know a lot about you, silly."

As I looked down at myself, I didn't see claws or tattoos or my diamond tail. I discreetly ran the back of my hand against my nose and brushed over the golden ring that used to pierce through my right nostril. The human warmth within my own hands and the life of my beating heart surged within me.

I wanted to scream and flip out, but my body moved on its own and pulled me up to my feet, continuing on with the scene. I completely forgot how tall I was compared to Eliza.

She caressed my cheek and smiled softly. "There's much to explain, isn't there, my dear passion project?"

"Passion project?"

"You'll see, you'll see..."

A hot pink light shot in my eyes.

...

When it comes to love confessions, I'm a total coward.

In the fourth grade, my first crush was this girl that sat next to me on the swing set every recess. There were plenty of opportunities to tell her that I thought she was pretty cool, but before I could do so, she moved away to Louisiana or something.

Then in middle school, I had a crush on this guy at my church. That one was going really well too. It wasn't until after sitting through an hour of an impassioned rant about how marriage is strictly between a man and a woman that I found out he wasn't exactly the most, uh, "accepting" person in the world. Longest hour of my life.

In high school, I was head-over-heels infatuated with one of my closest friends. I was so close with that one, man. Like, so close. I planned on pouring my heart out at the Spring Dance, but the moment just wasn't right. Before I could try again, I died in that jewelry store shooting. Talk about awful luck.

And Eliza. Sure, she was my actual first relationship, but it's not like I was the one who initiated anything. I was just along for the ride. I'd say that I lucked out with that one, but...well, y'know. I wouldn't be here if it went spectacularly.

"Z͖̲̒ͣ͠y͇̳̼̩̓ͬ́̓̀p̵̣̼̩̒h̵̦̙̙̱̝̄̋ͅé̫̭̤̾̋́̚r̶͔͍̤̞͖̬͕̰̿,"

"Yeah, Lizzy?"

Eliza squinted at the couple on the TV screen. I couldn't tell if it was jealousy or pure curiosity. "We've been dating for -- what? -- a little over a month now, right?"

"And?"

"And I've been wondering if...." She sighed and snuggled under my arm on the couch. "There's no easy way to say this, is there? Have you ever been kissed before?"

"I thought you knew everything about me already."

"The essentials, but I don't keep tabs on everything. That'd be creepy. You think I have files upon files of every time you've gone to the bathroom or every time you've cheated on a test or-"