A Sky Full of Blue

Chapter 9: Black is the Color of My Tears

"There's something about black. You feel hidden away in it." ~Georgia O'Keeffe

By the time I wake up the next morning Toby is already awake, with a set of clothing and Converse laid out for me. The smell of pancakes is strong, and I can smell the melted chocolate from all the way downstairs.

I feel heavy and sad, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed. I don't want to face the girl with the bubblegum lipstick, the girl that reminds me of the color mold. I don't want to face Theo, the boy with the Carolina eyes. Even being friends with him would probably be too painful.

I have to face Delilah for sure. I owe her an explanation for my behavior.

I groan as I get out of bed, my eyes and face heavy with all of my shed tears. My mouth purses into a frown when I see what Toby put out for me.

A black skirt; I never wear skirts. A simple white cotton tee. My white low tops. I obligingly pull all of it on, feeling foreign in my own body. I grab my backpack and color book, then take one last look in my mirror. The new one that was gotten before we moved to the peanut-colored house.

My eyes shift back and forth, and there are bags underneath them. I feel the tiredness creeping up on me.

I skip some of the steps on my way down, even though there are no creaks or groans. My shoes clomp down, and it alerts my big brother before he can even see me.

"So you decided to wear it! I thought you'd refuse." He smiles at me, his marigold smile.

I give him a soft, small smile in return. If you look closely at him he seems sorry for something that he did. I wonder if he did something that I won't be happy with. His smile drops.

"Don't give me that look. I didn't do anything." He puts his hands up in surrender, but his eyes stay to the  ground. The cards never lie.

He's lying.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Why can't he just leave it alone?

"I'm trusting you, Toby. If I find out that you were lying..." He stops me with a plate of pancakes.

I eat quietly while Toby hums softly under his breath, making pancakes, flipping them in the air with all the ease of an experienced chef.

"Have you applied to any colleges?" The pancake in his pan flips onto the floor, and his breath whooshes out of him. I didn't mean to make him upset.

"Are you sad?" He chuckles, a wheeze under his breath.

"You surprised me, Hazel. I didn't know you were interested in what I wanted to do." I point my fork at him.

"That's a lie. You tell me everything, from what you should wear, to study tips. You can't keep anything from me." He stares at me while I eat, eyes wide.

"I've applied to a few, but none really stand out to me. I'll keep you posted." There's something in his voice that sounds light, but I can't place the emotion. Happy? Excited? Nervous?

"Shall we get ready to go?" I see that Toby hasn't even touched the pancakes. He grabs two and pours some syrup into his mouth. He gargles, then waves his hand at me.

Go to the car, he waves.

I shrug my shoulders into my jacket, then head out the door. The early morning chill hits my face, making the cold air puff out of my nose. I pretend that I'm a dragon, blowing smoke out of my scaly head, flying through the clouds.

If I were a dragon I wouldn't have to worry about mean girls and boys with curiosities about me. They wouldn't be spitting caustic words because I'd be spitting my own fire.