Color Me Gray

By Rose Phillips

Saying goodbye to friends is hard. Being the only one left behind? Unbearable.

Mags is sure she will suffocate on loneliness when her friends head off to college. They get new adventures while she gets to live in the same house, on the same street, in the same city she’s been in forever.

When the hottest guy at a party hits on her, she’s convinced her world has shifted, that between fashion school and the start of a relationship, she too will have a chance at a new life.

She’s right.

Everything changes that night.

Just not in the way she dreamed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Oct 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773394060

Book preview

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2017 Rose Phillips

ISBN: 978-1-77339-406-0

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To Dan and Claudette, for offering me your friendship for over three decades.

My life is richer with you in it.

Love you both.

COLOR ME GRAY

Rose Phillips

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

I love to laugh. It always takes me by surprise, tumbling around my belly, punching its way out, until it gushes through my nose and I grunt like a potbellied pig. I know some people think it’s gross, but I can’t help it. Snorting makes me laugh all the harder until I’m bent over with pain and have to calm down before I die from lack of oxygen. No doubt about it, I love to laugh. But not today. There’s no laughter inside me today.

Maybe it’s gone forever, leaving with everyone else. Gah, I need to get past this. It’s just so darn hard. My new dress reminds me of the other dress. The one Ma and I worked on for hours, after hitting every fabric shop to find the right material, contrasting trim, and coordinating thread. The perfect dress for prom—the prom my friends swore they wouldn’t go to without me. So I went, and since we could bring one guest, each of the four of us brought one of Michael’s friends. Nobody could touch me surrounded by Lizzy, Stu, Michael, and his four guy friends. It was so much fun, I forgot all about the reasons I was going to shove that dress to the back of the closet and not go to my one and only prom. We danced all night. It was magical.

It’s over now. Done. No more friends for me. I’m going to be left behind like some forgotten toy in the sandbox, buried in the gray silt of my bland life. I yank a tissue from the box and wipe my nose. I want to sit and cry, but they don’t need to see me blubbering. I’ll hug them and wish them all well, and I’ll try to smile. But I won’t laugh. For sure there will be no laughter from me today.

****

I overlook Stu on my first scan of the room. Tucked away at a table over in the corner, he’s almost fully hidden by the menu. His curly mop, free of a hat today, is the only reason I spot him. It’s a fancy restaurant and he’s dressed in his best, tailored black pants and a pale blue shirt. Somebody should teach him how to iron without making those crisp folds on his sleeves. At prom he looked like a big kid in a man’s suit. Now he looks fabulously good. Still, I wish I could snap my fingers and send us all back to being kids on the playground again.

He hops to his feet when he sees me and pulls out a chair. Say what you want about how goofy he can be sometimes, but his mom trained him to be a real gentleman. I plunk down and scoot my butt, shifting the chair under the table. I like how the white tablecloth falls, hiding my thick middle and tree stump legs. Not that Stu cares about any of that. He’s always liked me. No matter what.

Where’s Lizzy and Michael?

He pulls out his phone, slides the screen, and taps it like you would a baby’s button nose. And in three, two, o—

Hey, guys, sorry. Lizzy takes the chair across from me, looking apologetic. Michael sits beside her and smiles. Lizzy says she fell in love with his smile first and I can totally see that. Even his chipped tooth has charisma.

No worries. You all ready? I try to keep my voice cheerful. I don’t want our last dinner together to be depressing.

Yes, Michael says at the same time Lizzy says, No! They laugh in unison but I can’t force myself to be that cheerful.

Every time I think I’m done, I see something else I should bring. Lizzy shakes her head.

"They have these things called stores. You know, where they sell things."

Lizzy swats Michael and he laughs again. I know, but if I’ve already got it, it seems stupid to waste money. Michael covers her hand with his and squeezes it.

I’m so glad Lizzy has Michael. I wouldn’t want her to go away to college and be all alone. She won’t get lonely. Not like me. I bite my bottom lip and stare at the stark linen. The cutlery shimmers as I try to keep back the tears that threaten.

Anything to start with? Attention swings to the waitress and drinks and food, and thankfully, the urge to cry slips away.

We decide to share platters of appetizers and we each order a soda, although I choose a diet version. I’m overindulging enough with all of the yummy food. No need to add more wasted calories to the night. There’s no way I’m going to let those twenty pounds get back on. No, on that I’m moving forward. I want to lose at least ten more.

What time do you leave in the morning? I suck on the straw, trying to be nonchalant, but it’s amazingly difficult to swallow with the lump in my throat.

We’re heading out around six. Lizzy beams at Michael. Dad and Midget are going to drive both of us so Ángel doesn’t have to take time off work.

I met Michael’s dad once. He seemed super nice. He works two jobs to help pay for college. He doesn’t want Michael to have to get any loans. Ma feels the same way about borrowing money. Stay away from the banks, lass. Once they get a hold of your wallet, they’ll not let it go.

And we decided it was easier for all of us if Tía stayed home. She’s been crying for a week because she’s so…—Michael crooks his fingers in air quotes—"happy for me." He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

Tears burn my eyes and Lizzy reaches across the table, touching my arm. We’re not that far away, you know. Only three hours.

I nod, but I don’t look at her. I’ll cry for sure if I do.

Dad’s house is only two hours away from the college. He said he’d come get us anytime we wanted, that we could stay with him and Lacey or he’d bring us to Mom’s.

I nod again, like a stupid bobblehead, but I can’t speak.

And I’m only two hours away. I can come home any weekend I want. Stu slurps his pop loudly and burps.

Classy, Lizzy mutters, shaking her head, and he laughs.

I know he did it on purpose to break the mood. That’s Stu. He likes to keep things upbeat. He hates it when anyone is down.

The food arrives and we dig in, the talk still centering on what tomorrow will bring, what the year will bring. I listen, but it’s hard to fake enthusiasm about being abandoned. On the upside, I pick at my food and don’t eat much. Tough to do with my stomach churning. My throat muscles are beginning to ache from pushing back the rising sobs.

Too soon, dinner is over and we step into the night. Michael gives me a quick hug good-bye before heading off to catch the bus to his end of the city, and like all of the years behind us, Lizzy and Stu flank either side of me as we walk back to our corner of the universe. Except now it’s going to be only my corner of the universe. There’s that lump in my throat again.

Lizzy grabs my hand and holds it like she used to do when we were little. When do you start again?

She knows the answer to that. She has a steel-trap mind. It’s her way of trying to get me to think about something other than their leaving. I should be pumped about going to college here in town. The courses are going to help me become a master seamstress. I’ll still be able to work with Ma in the shop on Saturdays, and maybe some evenings if she needs me. I love that. Not that any of it seems to matter right now. I answer anyway, pretending I don’t know what she’s doing.

First classes are Tuesday. Career Prep and History. Oh, and Textiles. Not sure how interesting it will be but it’s mandatory. Fashion Sketching is Wednesday. I wish you were going to be around to help with that cla— And there goes all of my control. It blows out of me like a whale’s spout, one loud, snorty snivel.

Oh, Mags, Lizzy says and hugs me.

Stu wraps his arms around from the back and rests his cheek on my head. It only makes me cry harder. He kisses the top of my head and steps back. Lizzy holds on a little longer but then backs away, pulls out a tissue, and shoves it at me. No doubt, I look a mess now.

I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that. It’s just … I’m gonna miss you so much.

Lizzy slips her hand around my waist and steers me along the sidewalk. No prob. We survived, didn’t we, Stu?

I look at Stu and he reaches out and touches my face. Yeah, but your makeup didn’t.

I must have raccoon eyes now, or maybe worse. I rub them and swipe at my cheeks.

Nope. No better. Stu grins. You look like one of Lizzy’s contemporary paintings.

Then she looks pretty good, I’d say. She squeezes my waist.

We stop in front of the house. A story and a half, surrounded by a white picket fence and cheered by the little gnomes that Ma moves around the gardens. I always love getting home. But not this evening. It’s too fast, too soon. I want to walk with them for another hour at least. Maybe all night.

Well, this is it, I guess.

Lizzy lets me go and frowns. Would you stop it? Nobody’s dying here. It’s simply a longer time apart.

I bite my lip again, but my chin starts to do the ugly trembling thing anyway. I know there are worse good-byes. We both had to say one to Jo this year. At the same time, I also know things are changing. For all of us. It will never be the same again.

Stu leans in and kisses my forehead. I’ll be home in a coupla weeks. Promise.

I’m biting so hard trying to keep it all in, I’m afraid my lip’s gonna bleed.

I’ve got something, Lizzy says. She digs in the big sack she calls a purse, the one I made for her birthday to carry her art supplies at college. For you. She holds out a package wrapped in golden stars.

But I—

You did too. You made me that awesome hat. Now, when my hair goes all nuts, I can tuck it up and look great. She thrusts the gift into my hands. You’re going to be fine, you know.

Text?

We will, Stu and Liz say simultaneously and then head down the street toward their homes.

It’s too much like the sad ending of a film and I can’t watch. I push open the gate and scurry up the steps, unlock the door, and go inside without looking back. I’m glad Ma and Da are at the movies tonight. I couldn’t handle their sympathy right now.

Once upstairs, I lay the gift carefully on the bed before going to wash my face. I look like a melted clown and the cloth looks worse after I’m done. Ma’s going to kill me. She hates it when I don’t tissue off the paint first.

I go back into my room and sit on the bed. Not once did Lizzy say she’d miss me. It kinda hurts, although that’s stupid. She doesn’t share feelings like Stu and I do. Her whole family had been falling apart and I hadn’t known a thing about it until Stu told me.

The package is pretty. I can tell it’s a picture by its shape. I hope it’s one of Lizzy’s. I have a lot of her paintings and drawings. She framed a few of the newer ones as a birthday gift, but the old ones are stuck on the wall with tape, some of them curling and yellowing at the edges. Ma never minds that I put things on the wall, so I always put up things I love. And I love Lizzy’s work.

I slip my finger under the wrapping paper and run it cautiously along the seam, tugging back the paper. It’s a pen and ink sketch with splashes of watercolor paint. It takes me a minute to register that it’s me. I look so much thinner, so much prettier. When I pick it up, a piece of paper falls out and my heart flutters along with it. I rest the picture on my lap and unfold the note.

Mags,

We’ve had quite the year, haven’t we? I’m so happy it ended better than it started and you remained, as always, my true friend. You have worked so hard. I don’t want you to lose that because you feel all alone—because you are not alone. I’m a phone call away.

Weight-loss programs always say to put a picture somewhere of what you want to be. So here’s your picture. Except, it is not what you want to be … it’s who you are. Don’t you ever forget it.

Lizzy

P.S. (I signed my full name Elizabeth in case I’m famous someday and you can make some money off of it. ROFL. )

P.P.S. (I have to confess. Michael helped with the eyes, cuz I suck at eyes.)

P.P.P.S. (I’ll miss you too, you freak.)

I tilt the picture one way, then the other. The shading angles my cheeks and sharpens my chin. Lizzy’s gonna miss me. I hug the pic close and laugh. Of course, I start to cry again immediately, but it doesn’t matter. I laughed. Out loud. No snort mind you, but still a laugh. Somehow, it’s all going to be okay.

Chapter Two

I need to get out of the house. Ma’s trying to be kind, but she’s far too sympathetic and it makes me sad all over again. Lizzy is literally moving further away from me with every moment that passes and my chest aches every time I think about it. I can’t change it so I need to get my mind off of it. As Ma herself is prone to saying, There are folk who have it a fair bit worse than our lot, eh?

Mrs. Goulding is one of those people. I figure Mrs. Goulding’s good-bye was way more painful. For sure, it’s more permanent. I haven’t been to her house in days, and since Jo’s death, I try to stop by at least once a week. Ma does the same thing.

Mrs. Goulding answers the door, looking more cheerful than I’ve seen her in a while. Come in.

Voices spill out from the back room and a bark of laughter punctuates, Watch her!

Pam’s here, Mrs. Goulding says by way of explanation before heading down the hall. That explains her happiness. Pam usually brings the baby with her.

Mags! Pam peeks over the top of her iPad. Come see.

I stroll over to look at the screen. Little Jo is on her hands and knees, pushing her bum up and down. It looks like she’s keeping rhythm with the music.

That is too funny. Is she crawling now?

Not quite. Hold on a sec. She scrolls through her videos and taps another one as Craig comes in and stands behind the chair so he can see too. Wait for it.

Little Jo rocks back and forth on her hands and knees and then suddenly throws herself forward, landing on her face. I gasp out loud, but then Little Jo turns her head sideways and grins a toothless grin. We all laugh as Pam plays it again. It’s equally hilarious the second time.

Where is she? I flop beside her on the sofa.

Napping, although… She looks at the old analog clock hanging on the rec room wall. Craig, hun, can you go check on her? She should be waking soon.

He leans down, kisses her on the forehead, and then heads out of the room. I always thought he was a good husband, but it’s nothing compared to what a good father he is—always willing to pitch in and do more than