peach light fading

three

The soft mint green of the guest room was enticing, but the real seller point was the large beckoning window that covered a whole wall. From it, you could see a large swimming pool and the dense trees that existed farther back. It should be a crime to look at outdoor pools in crappy weather. The heavy gray clouds had leaked their hue into the water and the cracked leaves that floated to the top of the water spoke only to the loneliness of it all. It would be days before anyone thought to clean it, and months till it made sense to.

I dropped my bag onto the floor and walked to the window, looking at the water like it was an animated film, full of movement and purpose. But the pool refused to take on a higher meaning. It was what it was. I could hear the sounds of Sherry and Rochelle talking, muffled but present. I reached out to touch the glass and sighed at the icy feeling against my skin.

When I was a kid Rochelle and I used to spend our summers in the sun, running and laughing and declaring war on the fairies of the breeze. On one particular day, Micah had joined us and we ran and ran throughout my neighborhood. I was so happy to show him where we lived, so eager to prove that there was beauty beyond daunting houses and Sunday brunches. I called out all that I saw, everything from the cups of tomato juice a lady drank through a crazy straw to the moon drawn in chalk on the sidewalk. It didn't take long for me to fall, scraping my leg something bad. As soon as I felt the blood running down to my ankles, I knew I had messed up. I wasn't a crybaby though, I never wanted people to worry for me.

I could've waited for my mom to come home, but I feared her scolding. So Rochelle helped me sneak back into my room and even tried to bandage me with a towel and duct tape. Micah watched all we did in awe. But even with the golden boy in my room, I was focused on Rochelle's kindness. She was always doing things like that. For only being one year my senior she sure took on the true older sister role. But it was winter now, and Rochelle didn't seem to like me much, and that was how things were.

It took heaps of nostalgia and hours of me sitting in the guest room for me to become brave enough to check on my sister. I grabbed a random book from the top of my duffel bag and began to walk. I remembered where Sherry's room was well and by the time I approached the door, I heard the familiar beat of a song Rochelle played often at home. I knocked twice until Rochelle yelled, "Just come in!"

When I swung open the door Rochelle looked confused. She and Sherry were sitting on her bed. The music had been paused.

"Uh, hey," I greeted.

"Sit," Rochelle said as her brows furrowed.

I did as I was told, and was soon cross-legged on the floor next to their bed.

"Lonely?" Sherry asked flopping over the bed so that her eyes bored into mine.

I shrugged, finding her and everything to be a little strange. "Could I sit in here and read?"

They both looked at me as if I had asked to breathe air in front of them.

"Of course," Sherry exclaimed. "What are you reading angel?"

I didn't know. I looked down at the book to see it was one of Mom's self-help books.

"Oh, I love that one!" Rochelle said. "Did you just start it?"

I nodded as I flipped through the pages, part of me hoping that I could feel the pressure of my moms touch through the paper.

"Well let me know if the music bothers you," Sherry said.

"Don't worry about it," I said, trying my best to hold the eye contact that she had initiated.

She smiled widely at me and turned back over to the laptop to finish the song.