Red and Gray

A Heart-Shaped Rock

He wasn't very surprised at the slight changes in the living room, so walking into Red's bedroom was like a faceful of ice water.

Her posters of Hole, Nirvana, Blink-182 and all the other ones were gone. Her bed was neat, her sheets a pale lavender. Her wallpaper was white with golden patterns. Gray stepped in, wary, and looked up. Even the ceiling had changed.

Still, her old pictures were there, the carpet was still fluffy and black, and her headboard was still covered with nicks and marks and Sharpie doodles. But it didn't look like the room where they'd spent so much time with each other. Not even talking, sometimes just sitting there or lying down staring the ceiling, listening to music, thinking of things that would fade as soon as they spoke.

"Hey," Red said. Softly. "You coming or not?" She was dangling half out of her window, one hand anchored to the side of the house. 

"Yeah," he said. She smiled and swung out of sight.

Gray followed her, clinging to the window jamb and climbing up the side of the house. Red was drinking her coke when he finally clambered up, his elbows about to snap. Sure enough, the spot still had a bunch of cushions on it, and she still faced away from the front of the house.

Much better.

He sat down and popped the beer open. "It's only been a week since I came back."

"Has it?" she said, trying a sarcastic tone. "I hadn't noticed."

"But it's been a year," he said. "Why's everything so changed in a year? I know you can't answer that without screaming at me, but I want you to try."

Gray knew perfectly well he was starting to provoke her. And that he was playing with fire. And that she'd probably push him off this roof. He scraped his finger along a ridge - and dug out a heart-shaped rock, so small it was only on his fingertip. He hid it away.

She started to talk. "Fine. After you left, I was in hell, okay? There was no one to be there for me, and the last image of you I had was you covered in bandages and bruises. The police wouldn't leave me alone, even after Dee threatened to sue everyone involved. I cried until I got thirsty. And when I was thirsty I got angry. Really angry."

Gray cringed, involuntarily - he'd seen her angry. And it was not pretty.

"And then after I was angry, I was drained. I hated him. That asshole. I hated you."

Something like cold wet cement was settling into his stomach.

"After all that, I'm still nothing more than collateral damage. I needed to get it all off me - eight years of nothing but my broken pieces for company. I needed to change. I just wanted it all off me."

He suddenly remembered what she'd said once. Needs are nothing like wants. If they were, life would be so happy.

"So I cleaned up. My hair, my room, the soundtrack of my life - though not as much, actually." She laughed self-deprecatingly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I finally understood why Dee didn't just tell me to go away."

"Why?" he blurted.

She drained her bottle. "She loves me. I'm a sad pathetic thing to love, but she does."

So do I. God, he wanted to say it so badly. "Red - "

She pulled him closer, resting her face against his neck. Her breath - sweet and cool - made him freeze. "Don't."

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