The Color of Darkness COMPLETE NOVEL

Darkness

The news of Rick's impending departure sped the remainder of the year to a blur of homework, tests, long nights, early mornings, and spending every waking moment we could with Rick. He had even decided to forfeit baseball so he would have more time to enjoy with us.

As much as it seemed like he was keeping his chin up, Rick also seemed awfully depressed with his situation. I had a suspicion that it was part of the reason he didn't re-join the baseball team. Though he spent plenty of time with us, he always seemed distant and distracted. He finally admitted to us that his time at home was spent on eggshells. Nova and I both offered to put him up for the weekends but he refused every time with a tight smile, saying he wasn't going to run away from his problems.

Sometimes, though, our problems seemed to catch up to us anyway, even when we aren't running from them.

Nova received the letter the day school ended for the semester.

In a flurry of thrown books, cheers, and a bone-jarring race from the school back to Nova's house, we arrived inside to find her stone-faced aunt and uncle sitting at the dining room table, the unopened envelope resting dangerously between them.

Sandy looked as she had been crying, and Mike had a strained air of solemnity about him.

The three of us froze in the front hallway. I felt my heart jump into my throat.

"Natalie... dear." Sandy stood from the table and seemed to glide over to us. She practically crushed Nova in a hug and broke out in a fresh wave of sobs. Mike stood from the table and seemed to teeter on his feet for a little bit before slumping back down in his chair and resting his forehead in his hands. Rick and I glanced at each other in borderline panic--nothing ever phased Mike.

Nova gently led her aunt back to the table to have a seat and reached for the letter. It was addressed to her from some place in Washington state from the last person I would have ever expected:

Dad

"Natalie, I think it would be best for the boys to leave." Sandy dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Nova tried to protest but it was Mike who spoke up first.

"Andy, Rick, you should stay."

He clasped his hands in front of him and looked up at us almost pleadingly. "You two should be here to help... deal with this... situation." he cleared his throat, sorrow layering his voice like a bitter sauce.

"What happened?" Nova sat down at the table and tuned the letter over and over in her hands, never taking her eyes off of it. A little green frog sticker sealed it shut and she began playing with its edges but not quite peeling it off.

"You... you should read the letter," Sandy said, suppressing another sob. "We're not sure what it says, but... you should read it," she said, wiping her eyes yet again.

"I want to know what happened," Nova said in a low voice, looking back and forth from her aunt to her uncle.

"Natalie... the letter. Please." Mike looked absolutely miserable.

Nova was still turning it over and over in her hands, staring at the stiff white paper, unblinking. I gently reached over her shoulder and, as delicately as I possibly could, peeled the green frog sticker off of the envelope. Nova took the sticker from me and stuck it to the back of her now-trembling hand. She slipped a single sheet of notebook paper out of its sheath and slowly, painfully unfolded it. The writing was surprisingly neat, with nary an ink-smudge to be found. Nova took a deep breath, squeezed my hand hard, and began to read:

Dear Natalie,

My shining star. My hope. My inspiration. My little green Nova. I'm not sure what words to put on this paper now. I could spent sheet after sheet apologizing, but it would never make up for all the time we lost. I think about you every day. The biggest mistake I ever made was letting you slide out of my grasp. I won't make excuses for myself. We both know why I lost you. You've probably spent years wondering why you lost me in turn.