F Stands For Forever #JustWriteItChallenge

3. Theodore

**Theodore**

Sometimes I wish she would just let me know what she is thinking. It’s frustrating. Ever since we were kids, Honey kept everything locked up inside for no one to touch or see. She’s always the one Niki and I go to for help or just someone to talk to about our problems, but yet Honey is determined not to tell us about hers.

Maybe it’s because of her past. Out of all of us she’s been through the most. From what Niki and I’ve gotten out of her, I know she’s been around domestic abuse since the day she was born.

Ten years ago when we first met in that park, Honey was so small and scrawny, but she looked strong. It was her eyes that gave her that effect. Like she had seen way too much for her age. All three of us would hang out together almost everyday, but no matter how hot the weather became, no matter how humid it was, Honey always wore long-sleeved shirts. Even when all of us managed to get into Niki’s private school (Honey had no problem, with her brains, but I needed Niki’s help), Honey refused to wear the girls uniform which consisted of a knee length skirt. She preferred to wear the boys uniform no matter how much people teased her.

And oh, did they tease her. Rumors went around the school about her all of the time. That her mother is a drunken prostitute and her dad is some dead beat white guy who tried the drug-dealer thing for a while. People claimed how they would see Honey’s mom walking down busy streets all day and in a bar all night with countless men.

I never would have thought that the rumors were true. Never ever would I have thought that our sweet, shy, soft-spoken Honey could have come from such a family, but she did.

The day I found out was the day I saved her life three years ago. From the first time we met, Honey warned Niki and I about coming to her house. Whenever we met up, it would always be in a park, on a corner, an ice cream shop or Niki’s or my house. I would ask her all the time why we couldn’t see where she lived at least once--Niki and I were constantly curious, and the rumors about Honey didn’t help much--but every time Honey would tell us no. She made us promise her to never seek out her house--to always call her before coming--but one day I just couldn’t help myself. One day I broke the promise.

It was a Friday afternoon, school had just gotten out and Honey told Niki and I that she couldn’t hang out that day. She had some things she needed to take care of at home that couldn’t wait. We didn’t press her for information, but she was in such a hurry she forgot to close her backpack and one of her sketch books fell out.

“Should we go give it back to her?” Niki asked me, her eyes following Honey’s figure as it disappeared around a corner. “We can still catch up to her if we run fast enough.” Honey was never a track star, it wouldn’t be hard to give it back to her, but for some insane reason I told Niki that I’d hold on to it until tomorrow. We always met in Roosevelt park on Saturdays.

“Okay,” Niki said, unsure of her answer. She looked at the sketchbook on the ground and picked it up. She handed it to me slowly. “But remember, this book is Honey’s pride and joy. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Reckless is my middle name.”

“Really,” she said, smiling. “Because I thought it was Adrian this whole time.”

We laughed together for a while until Joseph showed up. Niki’s dad had unexpectedly shown up at her house--it was one of those things she just couldn’t miss--so we parted ways and it looked like I was on my own for the day.

As I walked home I opened up Honey’s sketch book and stole a peek at some of her drawings. They were magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like them, especially drawn by a sophomore high school student. Some were just pencil sketches, but other pages were lit up beautifully by an array of colorful pastels, color pencils and even crayons. All were amazing no matter what tools she used. Why hasn’t she let anyone see her art before?