Chapter Thirty-Five: Days In Color// Calling You

"I've been calling you, you know."

My jaw tensed and I flipped another page in the book I was reading. "I know."

He came around to the front of the bench, holding the back of the seat as he lowered himself into the chair. I closed my eyes hard and opened them again.

I could see him turning towards me in his seat. Raising my head, I studied the trees and bushes in front of me, feeling his stare from my peripheral vision. Sighing, I turned towards him.

This time we weren't sitting in a movie theater like three years ago. This time it wasn't dark. This time I knew him. Familiar brown eyes watched me as I took in his appearance.

The freckles spattered across his cheeks and nose were barely noticeable, blending in instead, into a deep tan. His wavy light brown hair was gone, cut short and combed off his forehead, set with gel. Broader shoulders. Muscular. Bigger.

I reached over and gently pulled off his dark glasses, marvelling at the familiar sparkling brown eyes that emerged from behind. Their unsteady movement side to side...right, left, right, right, left... his eyes were the same. My chest twinged as he turned his face slightly to the left to see me better.

I pressed my lips together, taking it all in. "You've grown."

He smiled. "You have too."

I pulled back and swept my thin blonde hair up, pulling it all into a ponytail and securing it with a hair tie. "Grown apart."

"No..."

"You don't sound so convinced." I crossed my legs, shaking the one on top vigorously. I wish I had a book with me. Just something to hold. I didn't know what to do with my hands.

He stayed silent. I sighed.

"Why'd you even come here?"

He hesitated. "Because... I... To say hi, I guess." He rubbed his eye, and fidgeted with his glasses. "I missed you."

The pain in my chest ripped open again and my mouth ran dry. I opened and closed my lips, trying to release the words lodged in the back of my throat since the day he'd run down the stairs and left for good. I've missed you too.

"I..." I coughed and started again. "I'm sure you did. You were gone for so long." I smiled at him humorlessly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Ugh, you're mad."

"No." I steadied my breathing. "I just thought I mattered a bit more to you than just someone you could leave at the drop of a hat."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just got busy, with school and, and—"

I picked up my book and stood up, straightening my shirt. "We make time for things important to us. I need to go. Aaron is supposed to clean his room, and I haven't put the clothes—"

"What about next Wednesday?"

I looked up. "What?"

"Next Wednesday." He paused for a second. "Drew and the others are going out for ice-cream.." He drifted off, seeing the look on my face. Shaking his head slightly, he leaned forward. "No, listen. Seriously. I can introduce you to everyone. And—"

"And what, Lyon. They already know me. You think we all somehow managed to stay strangers for thirteen years of staying in the same tiny little town?" I waved my hand, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. No matter how badly you want something back, sometimes it's impossible. He'd changed. I'd changed. I blinked rapidly, turning to go.

"Please. Just come along, Cece."

I closed my eyes, inhaling. I was shaking. The part of me that wanted him in my life was getting stronger and it took everything I had not to cry. I wanted him back in my life. Badly. Everyone in my life made it a habit to leave, and here he was, asking to be let back in.

I angled my body away from him and let out a shaky breath, trying to be quiet about it so he wouldn't notice. I tried to speak but the lump was too large. I nodded instead, my face turned away from him.

"Great."

I waved a hand at him. "I... I really do need to go," I whispered and walked away.

"Bye Cecilia. I'll see you... uh, Wednesday, then."

I nodded and kept my eyes focused on the ground in front of me, listening as his footsteps faded in the other direction. Come back. My legs felt like lead and I stopped, turning around just as he turned the corner. I blinked back my tears and swallowed the lump in my throat.

I tried to paint when I got home. But I knocked a glass of water all over the desk. I watched the spilled water creep under the drawing, and marvelled at the colors blurring and blending into each other. Or maybe that was just my eyes.