Teenage Troubles (Prequel for Teenage Baby)

Chapter 11 | Leo

Chapter 11 | Leo

The moment ten-year-old Leo was given a coloring book and crayons, he became obsessed. But not obsessed like Jayden had been and still was with his long-dead wife or the way Aaron was with astronomy. He just liked the idea of filling in empty spaces with colors of his choice—he could ruin it, he could not. Control. Something he lacked.

"Do you know what this is?"

Leo stopped dragging the blue crayon on the paper right where Amy's finger pointed. He stared at the spot for a second then looked up at her and shook his head. "What?"

"It's called the color blue."

"Blue," Leo repeated, letting the word linger on his tongue like he was tasting it. The edge of his lip pulled up. "Blue, blue, blue." He'd been sprawled on his stomach but now he turned on his side and giggled. "I like blue. It's nice."

"Yeah." Amy crouched down beside him. She smiled but it was never really happy. Something constantly weighed her ribs down in her chest. It'd been years and the guilt still wouldn't leave her alone. It was tenacious like that, persistently reminding her that her actions equated Jayden's in atrocity because she was allowing it to happen. Sometimes, greed couldn't be controlled. Once loose, it fed. And once fed, there was no turning back before explosion. "You know blue like what?"

Leo squinted apprehensively then rolled back on his stomach, propping his torso up with an elbow against the floor. "Like what?"

"Like your eyes."

"My eyes are blue?"

"Yeah, they are. They're the same color as the crayon. Look." Amy pulled out her phone and gave it him so he'd catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Leo grabbed the phone with both hands, dirty fingers leaving prints against the screen but he watched his reflection anyway. He'd seen his eyes before, just never really focused enough. Now, however, looking closely and with purpose, he realized that they matched the crayon.

"Pretty," he mumbled. He'd learnt the word from Jayden. That was what he called Eliza. So the opposite of bad, equivalent of good. Leo decided that he was bad but his eyes were pretty. "I like my eyes."

Amy chuckled. "Uh, I mean, that's good?"

Leo turned and looked at her straight in the eyes. She could tell he was assessing the color of her own. Apprehension in the scrutiny of his gaze, in the subtle tilt to his head. His bang curled sideways along his forehead. The phone slipped from his hands in the process, and then he finally spoke:

"Your eyes aren't pretty. Don't like them."

Amy almost choked even though that was something she'd expect from Leo. He was just brutally honest like that, always spilling out whatever thoughts crossed his mind. That or repeating what Jayden crammed in his head.

"Oh." Amy cleared her throat then chuckled. "Why don't you like them?"

"'Cause they look like shit," Leo mumbled, eyes playfully turning into crescents. He bit his bottom lip and dragged it between his crooked teeth then giggled. "Your eyes are shit."

Amy noticed that he leant forwards every time he said shit as if he were purposely spiting her. Not that it was a surprise for him to do that; over the years he'd started changing, picking up Jayden's language. Becoming more vicious. His defense had become biting. She just hoped it wouldn't get worse.

Leo patted her arm, fast and urgent. Amy snapped out of her bubble and focused on him. She shook her head questioningly.

"Know what else is shit?" he asked, lips pulling up. He fiddled with his fingers awkwardly, pulled back his index.