Repainted {Camila/You}

5

The next day began almost just like any other. Almost.

I struggled to pull myself out of the bed, tossing between the warmth of the sheets before finally throwing off the large comforter and sliding out of the bed. I had managed to sleep pretty soundly with the doll, Chrysanthemum, only waking once or twice to feed or change her diaper. Her cries were becoming a bit more frequent, but she still hadn't established a schedule, I noted, climbing out of the bed. As usual, Lauren lay asleep, nothing but her face sticking out of the blankets but sunlight streamed into our window. My eyes burned from the sudden light, and I squinted, trying to find my outfit for the day.

I had no plans besides my classes, and those didn't start for another hour. I was reaching for a pair of jeans that was slewn across the chair when I noticed it.

"What the...?" A large blue-black bruise had spread its way across the side of my thigh, about the size of my fist. I searched my memory of the previous night, almost certain I hadn't done anything to receive such an injury. I touched it gingerly, the pain welling in one spot and causing me to jerk back almost immediately. Maybe I'd hit my leg against something during the night and forgotten, I thought, shrugging it off. My memory wasn't the strongest. Before high school, my memory was brilliant; I could remember all the way back to preschool, days spent coloring and clicking away with blocks. Then as I got older, things began to change, giving me reasons to want to forget. Now most days my brain was a foggy mess of trying to decipher the distance between fantasy and reality. Of course, no one knew this. I grabbed the pair of jeans, a light-wash denim skinny jean with tears down the leg and tugged them on before turning my attention to Chrysanthemum, who was laying in a shoe box I'd designated for her. The box rested atop my desk, next to a drawing that I had scribbled out last night before bed.

"Good morning, kid," I said to the doll, eying it warily from a distance, "If you need anything, I suggest you speak up now." I was still wearing my shirt from the previous night, reminding me of Alycia's words of caution to care for the doll. She'd texted through the night to make sure I was paying attention to our project, before finally falling asleep around midnight. I was just about to change my shirt when I heard my phone buzz on the desk. I leapt for it so that it wouldn't disturb Lauren sleeping and answered without glancing at the caller ID, "Hello?" I said as quietly as possible.
"Hey, did I catch you at a bad time...?" His voice was a smooth surprise, like coffee sweetened with extra sugar, and my ears perked up at the sound.
"Nate," I breathed out, "no, I was just getting up, what's up?" He never called before. He'd text every now and again to ask if I was free, but we never did much more than play video games on his couch.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go grab expressos with me tonight. There's this cafe not too far from here, sometimes they do 'Arts and Coffee' nights. I thought you might like it."
"I mean, yeah. What time?" I tried not to sound too excited, I didn't want him thinking I was over-eager. Truthfully, though, I was. It sounded like a date. And dates were exactly what I wanted to be on.
"My last class gets out around 6? I'll pick you up around 6:30?"
"I'll be here." I nodded, even though the couldn't see me. We said our goodbyes and before I heard the three beeps signalling the end of a phone call I was already thinking of what I'd wear for the night. I wasn't sure what cafe it was, but something quirky and cute would do the trick. I grabbed my backpack and headed down the hall to the bathroom to finish preparing for the day, before returning to the room.
"I almost forgot you," I sighed, picking up the doll. I turned to leave but stopped, grabbing its bottle and other supplies, stuffing them all into my bag. The walk to class was brisk, a stiff breeze blowing my shoulder length hair out of place. I smoothed it down before I entered the building to my first class. I no doubt already looked ridiculous carrying a doll baby. I didn't want to make it worse by looking like I'd been spun through the eye of a tornado. I had math, my least favorite class by far. I wasn't stupid by any stretch of the means, it was mainly my grades that had gotten me into the college, I just couldn't make sense of the letters and the numbers. Everything became too crowded on the page, the arithmetic bleeding into one constant blob. I was barely passing the class. The one thing that I could say to my credit, though, was that I was early. There was hardly anyone in the open classroom. Rows of computers lined the wall, while tables and chairs filled the center of the spacious area. Student tutors sat at their own desks, hardly awake as their eyes glazed over textbooks and screens. I made eye contact with one, a girl with curly black hair and a gorgeous chocolaty complexion, and flinched pulling my eyes away quickly. It was always awkward for me to make eye contact with people, it seemed so personal. I pushed my hair behind my ear and nibbled on my lip nervously as I pick a seat, farthest from the door. I had placed Chrysanthemum down and pulled out my notebook and was beginning to scribble at a problem when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, immediately met with friendly brown eyes rimmed with thick lashes. My eyes dropped and the rest of the person's features registered.