A Sky Full of Blue

Chapter 7: Bubblegum is the Shade of Her Lipstick

"People can be mean. Don't take it personally. It says nothing about you, but a lot about them." ~Unknown

( Returns to Hazel's POV).

I'm up late at night, painting my walls the different colors in the paint cans my mother has provided, possibly from the nearest Lowe's store. The smell makes me want to gag, but the color is what makes it bearable. I get to have four different colors, four different 'personalities' if you'd like to call them that. I get to be me without anyone seeing.

This is my castle. No one can judge or criticize me here.

My music is turned down low, a hum in the background of my brushstrokes. Paint drops onto my arm, but I don't mind. The swift movements my wrist make keep me from thinking about what has happened over the last few days.

A new school. A new friend. The boy with the Carolina eyes, the boy that was worried about my safety. Not to mention my near breakdowns, as plentiful as they were.

Michael Buble's "Feeling Good" plays, which makes me hum along. My voice has never been the best, but this song has always seemed to calm my nerves after a stressful day.

I don't know whether or not Toby has taken Theo home yet, so I stay in the solitude of my room, the walls closing in comfortably. A rush of cold air hits my face, but I don't close the window. If I did that the fumes from the paint would invade my nose and make me lightheaded.

I feel the swift brushstrokes and keep my focus there, tuning out my surroundings. I don't notice my brother and the stranger standing near the doorway, watching me.

"Hazel?" Toby's voice is soft. He probably has said something that he shouldn't have. His eyes catch the light from outside, bathing his face in a natural angelic glow. Theo's eyes light up like a Christmas tree when he sees the cans of paint.

"Need any help?" His eyes shift over to the many colors, passing over all the work that I have to do. I shift over so that he can't see them anymore and keep my eyes to the ground. Confrontation is not in the cards for me right now.

"No thanks, I'm fine." I didn't notice that Toby was standing next to me until his shoulder nudges mine.

"You should take the chance. Good practice for your new friend." His marigold smile, although forced and stretched a little too far, catches Theo's eye.

"I'm going to be in the next room over. Feel free to grab a brush and help." He pats Theo on the back and leaves me to my own devices, to my own awkwardness.

I turn back to my work, ignoring the boy in my room. Toby would take the time to tell me that I'm being rude, that I need to look someone in the eyes and speak to them. I'm not really feeling it right now.

I hear the shift of his feet as he undoubtedly thinks of leaving. Awkward girl turning away from you, trying not to talk to you, probably your cue to leave.

I hear his footsteps on the floorboards, edging closer to me. I hear the dip of the brush as he lathers it with paint. I hear the clank of the metal of the can as he takes it over to a spot.

"Where should I start with this one?" I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. My eye twitches; the balance of the colors, someone else is tampering with them.

"Pick any side of the wall where I'm not already painting. Only one wall is to be that color."

He nods, then I hear the brushstrokes as he starts his work. I look over to the roller on a sheath of garbage bag, but decide to stay silent, continuing on with my work. This drudgery, this extra work; why is he doing it? Why does he want to help me?