Colorful | Phan | Completed

12%

You've never really heard silence until you want to talk to someone.

Phil and I sat on the roof of my house, gazing at the sky as it slowly turned from light to dark.

I opened and closed my mouth three times before deciding what to say to Phil. "You got here fast."

"I guess, yeah." He shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on the sky.

"You said you were feeling blue..."

"I did." He agreed.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked, trying my best not to look over at him to much. The sky was extravagant, but Phil was there too.

"Pink."

"What? What does pink mean?" My eyebrows knitted. He had never mentioned pink before.

"I have no idea." Phil answered, continuing to watch the black begin to absorb the brightness.

I had no idea how Phil was so comfortable on this roof, since I continuously had to shift around."Is it a good thing?" I hoped.

Phil nodded. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "What's your favorite color?" He asked me, placing his chin atop his knees.

"I-I've always liked black." I answered. No one had ever really asked me that before. Black was such a plain color to answer with, but so many beautiful things were black. The night sky, the jacket my father would wear, the car that always parked near the end of my driveway, the cat Adrian had found on the street when it was by itself. "What about you?"

Phil paused, not the kind of pause when he was deciding what color matched his emotion, but the kind of meaningful pause he took when he was thinking of something brilliant to say.

"Blue."

That was it? Color boy, the living rainbow, chose the most common color? I suspected something out of the ordinary, like chartreuse or beige...

"There are many blues, Phil."

"Blue like the color of the ocean when it just hits the sand... Blue like the color of the sky when the clouds leave after a rainstorm... Blue like the color of Mrs. Johnson's dictionary that holds the secret code to her food cabinet."

"You've gotten into the famous food cabinet?" I suddenly turned to him, surprised that he was the only person I've heard of to ever get in there.

A small smile played at his lips. "It's nothing special, really. Few chocolate bars, couple packages of candy... Not as big as everyone makes it."

"PJ said that someone once found a whole turkey dinner in there!" After the words left my mouth, and after Phil let out a laugh, I realize how stupid I sounded. Reason number 12 not to fall in love with Phil Lester, he had gotten into Johnson's food cabinet before I had.

"Well, there isn't." Mrs. Johnson, our History teacher had the biggest cabinet in the school, full of food that she gives away. She's the only one who knows the code, but guess that changed now. Seniors used to spread rumors around all the time that who ever gets in would get a Thanksgiving meal of their choice. The more Phil talked about the small delights in her cabinet, the less I found it to be a legend.

I opened my mouth to ask him more about it, but he shushed me. It was quite rude, and loud, but Phil spoke my name softly afterwards.

I waited a moment to see if he would shush me again. "W-what?"

"Have you ever been up here?"

"Once or twice to get a frisbee or something." I proclaimed, shaking my head slowly.

"Listen..."

And I did. At first I thought he was going to tell me something important, but then I realized he had actually wanted me to listen.

"What can you hear?"

"Why are you so cheesy?"

"Shut up and just tell me."

"Okay." I rolled my eyes. I told Phil that I heard many cars drive by, and the slash of their tires against the puddles. He told me to go on, and I explained how I could hear frogs croaking from around the lake near my house.

"And what do you see?" He asked, leaning back against the roof.

I looked over at him. "Someone who's acting like they're blind."

Phil laughed genuinely. "I'm just trying to help you."

"With what?"

"Painting."

I laid back on the roof too. "How does-"

"Now you can paint something. Paint the lake, or the city. Paint the street, or something." He told me

I sighed deeply. "I haven't painted since the last competition."

"Well, now you can start."

Black was such a plain color, but so many beautiful things were black. The night sky, the jacket my father gave to me, the car that had gotten towed for being parked near a fire hydrant, the cat Adrian almost killed.

And it was the color of Phil's hair.