A Sun Full of Marigold

Chapter 2: I Heard It Through The Grapevine

I walk down the steps of the dorm hall, trying to evade everyone in my path. If I can get through today, I'd say that's one more thing to be proud of.

My hair is messy and my clothing is disheveled, and all I want to do is go back up to my room and blast my music until my eardrums burst. The only reason I left is for the promise that today holds.

I heard that Nita is showing some of her art today, and I promised that no matter what, I'd be there to celebrate. Even though we are broken up, I'm going to try to support everything that she does. She is my inspiration, she's the one that made me have enough courage to come to a college so far away from home.

Unfortunately, that was when things were different. We aren't dating anymore and this whole city reminds me of her. She, in itself, was a work of art. If I had any artistic ability at all, I'd spend hours painting her small, stubborn smile, and her long, dark hair.

Those eyes that, with one look, could disarm me in a second.

I rub at the back of my neck, trying to avoid the thoughts of her. I'll get to see her tonight, or, her art. There's no use in getting my hopes up for something that has already died. I sigh. Today is going to be a long day.

I open the door, looking at the prints left behind. I leave many pieces of myself behind for others to find, and I wonder if anyone has found them. I wonder if someone will come to me with all of those pieces and stitch them back onto me, fragment by fragment.

I hold open the door for someone, but they don't even mutter so much as a thank you. I know I'm not in my small town anymore-where everyone was the epitome of niceness-anymore. I ignore it as I sidestep the person next to me, narrowly missing them trying to pick some loose change off of the ground.  I walk onto the street and stare at the cracks in the concrete, smiling to myself. It reminds me of the day that I skipped out on prom just to see Nita.

***

I sit at the tables at this boring ass venue. The only reason I came is because I like Nita and I want to be able to ask for a dance. That would make this night one hundred percent better.

I rub at the itchy shirt sleeve and loosen my tie. My jacket sits in my lap, and I resist the urge to gather some of the fabric in between my fingertips and twist it around. Just to let out some of the nervous energy out of my body.

I tap my foot on the ground, and my fingertips begin a steady rhythm on the tablecloth. The silverware clinks together in time to my own beat.

I stand with the angry squeak of my chair, trying to get away from all of this. There is nothing more that I want to do than go see Nita to make sure that she's okay.

I go over to my sister and the Texan and say my goodbyes, but not before I give Theo a warning glare. He better not be planning anything with my sister. If he does do something I'll know. Call it brotherly intuition, whatever you want to, but when it comes to Hazel, I just know.

I hop in my car and try my best to keep the speed limit all the way to Nita's house. I asked Nelson for the address beforehand, and I've got to say, he's about as protective as I am. We both know that our sisters have gone through some pretty messed up shit, and we would do anything for them. No matter what it would take.

I park my car on the curb and step out, shutting the door quietly behind me. I walk on the concrete walkway, counting each and every one of those blocks as I make my way to where I want to be.

Their house is small, but I can tell that it's well lived in. A weather worn hanging chair sways on the porch, and small wicker chairs sit neatly around it. There's a doorbell, but I'm not sure that I want to ring it. I don't want to startle whoever lives here.