Black: The Absence of a Color

The Best Color

"So, what's your favorite color?"

"Favorite... Color?" Cara wasn't sure how to reply. She envied most of the colors, but didn't particularly like any of them. Should she answer honestly, or make something up? All the people staring at her was making her uncomfortable... And she didn't feel like answering...

"Cara?" her teacher asked, with a slightly concerned expression on her face.

"My favorite color is... is yellow!" She lied. Now, she would have a guilty consciousness. Why did that boy even ask? Why did she even have to answer her new classmate's questions?

"Yes, yellow is a very nice color," the teacher said in one of those tones and smiles all teachers seem to make. "Any other questions?"

Please, no! Cara prayed. To her dread, another hand shot up.

"Thane," the teacher called at the boy. He had bright red hair that almost made him look like his head was on fire.

"If your favorite color is yellow, then how come you're wearing all black?"

"Thane!" The teacher frowned. "Don't say things like that! Even though my favorite color is green, I don't wear green all the time."

"Yeah, Thane," a girl with jet-black hair sitting beside the ginger whispered. Cara heard it, but was pretty sure the teacher hadn't.

"Well, if there are no more questions, you can sit next to Josephine, Cara. Why don't we applaud for out newest student?"

Like always, a group of boys started clapping as loud as they could, even after everyone else had stopped. They continued clapping for the fun of it, until the teacher shot them a hard stare.

Cara sat at the only empty desk, beside a brunette she guessed was Josephina. Josephina had a huge smile plastered on her face, pleased she had the luck to sit next to Cara. The class was very small, so Cara guessed new students weren't that common.

"You can just call me Jose," she whispered. "I don't like my name that much." She stuck out her hand, and Cara shook it.

How long would it take for these people to hate her? They seemed pretty excited about her. What if they stayed this excited? What if they became her friends?

Cara smiled at the thought, but then remembered: that would never happen. How could she make friends? It would be impossible. Every time she came to a new school (which had happened very frequently, even though this had only been the fourth year she had been in school, including Kindergarten) it always started out like, and then went downhill. They would decide she wasn't worth their time in pretty sone.

Cara sighed. Why did she even hope to make friends. What was the point of hoping for the impossible?