Bathe in Color

14. Paris Wills, Age 16, August 4, 2019

All morning I couldn't help but hum a giddy tune as I made my bed, smoothing out the covers with a gentle touch. I haven't bothered to make my bed in years, never having a Mom to tell me to. Nevertheless, I was having company over, and I wanted my bedroom to look nice and clean in case he would see it. 

Not like that. I didn't expect us to go that far on the first date.

I'm letting Grayson's visit get to my head. It's not even a date. He's just coming over to help me plant a few flowers. Besides, the fact that I get to spend more time with him is exciting enough. I can't wait to learn about all his interests, his favorite past times, and where he moved from.

There's a strange eagerness building up in my stomach that refuses to subside, like monstrous tsunamis crashing inside me. Today is the first day in a long time that I'll be hanging out with someone. It's difficult to recall a time when people didn't avoid me and whisper about how apathetic I've become. The worst part is, I only have myself to blame. After my mom died, I pushed all my friends away. If anyone tried being nice to me, I shut them up with a callous stare. Every day I regret my rash decision. I didn't want to drag anyone else into the black abyss that I was falling into. Instead, I assured myself I could get through it alone. I wish I could take it back. I wish I had realized sooner that I needed my friends more than anything - that friendship meant you were supposed to be there for each other in the good and the bad.

Maybe Grayson can be the glue in my life, the one to put me back together. I really hope we grow close. We are neighbors, after all. If I could have a friend in my life, just one friend, it would be the greatest gift in the world.

And maybe that friend could become something more.

Right now I need to focus on becoming friends with Grayson. I've hardly spoken to anyone my age in years. Most of the time I hang low in school, traipsing the halls with a hoodie on and earphones in, hoping nobody will try to engage me or get my attention. Even though I don't act like it, I want friends. I really do.

Except I don't think anyone wants to be friends with me.

The doorbell rings and my heart skips a beat. My vision blurs for a moment before I race down the staircase, so eager that I almost slip on the second to last step. I tug at my maroon long-sleeve and black jeans, which both hang loose on my thin and gangly figure.

Sure enough, as soon as I arrive at the door, Grayson is waiting on the other side. He smiles while I gaze up at him, giving me a full view of his dazzling emerald green eyes. I try to stop focusing on them, shifting my gaze to his slim pink lips, which doesn't help me much. Instead, I try to focus on his outfit, which is a nice loose pink tank top and black joggers, similar to the outfit her worse yesterday. It's hard not to look away from his muscular, well-built arms, but my attention is immediately drawn to a gorgeous black and white tattoo of a rose and stem on his left bicep. Behind the petals is a tattoo of an upside-down triangle, which is a dazzling fuchsia, the only splash of color on the tattoo. I'm shocked to see a tattoo on his arm, wondering if he's already out of high school. What shocks me more, however, is that the pink triangle in the tattoo is a symbol of queer identity. I wonder if it means what I think it means, or if he's merely a really supportive ally. Or maybe I'm overthinking all of this and he just got some random tattoo design. 

"I love your tattoo," is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. There I go, saying stuff without thinking first. How are so many people good at interacting with other people? I was one of those people once. Always open to sparking conversation. Now, thinking about what to say terrifies me.

He smiles at me, thanks me for the compliment, and flexes his bicep to show off his tattoo and bulging muscles. That strange feeling is brewing in my abdomen again, weighing me down with this unusual but radiating sensation that shoots through my body like an electric sunrise and makes me feel exhilarating.