《》21. Paris Wills, Age 16, August 6, 2019

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I wonder what might've happened if my father hadn't interrupted Gray and I. How much farther would we have gone? How much farther would I have gone? Posing behind Gray's lens lit a fire inside me. It melted away my exterior and brought forth a persona I didn't even know existed. Perhaps it's the real me peeking out from under the surface after I've hidden it away for so many years.

It felt spectacular to live as that Paris. The one hidden under the shrouded clouds of doubt and sorrow. I want to be that Paris all the time. I want to experience all that life has to offer. I want to feel the fireworks of true love. I want to bathe in a world of color I've never bathed in before.

Maybe I've inflated Gray's feelings for me. Yet I can't deny the impact he's had on me. I sensed a desire in Gray's eyes; the way his emerald irises twinkled as they hid behind his camera. It was a look I've never seen before. A look I imagine only lovers share.

The thought of losing Gray, especially after everything that's happened between us, terrifies me. Despite sharing only a few moments together, I feel as if I've known him my entire life. There's a tug in my heart telling me that we're meant for each other. Already I can imagine us taking on life's greatest accomplishments and struggles hand in hand. I'm ready for us to take the next step and jump into a world where every color blossoms and shines in its own magnificent fashion.

For once in a very long time, I'm determined to leave the prison of these plain beige walls to dive into a world where remarkable hues of each and every color shine with a radiant beauty. I've shut myself out from the world for far too long. I thought by remaining in the confines of my boring black and white life, nothing would hurt me. Except all it did was hurt me.

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Instead of wallowing in my sorrow, I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning and kiss Gray's bubblegum pink lips. Of course, there's a chance he won't feel the same, but I'm willing to take that chance.

Tomorrow, everything may change. If Gray doesn't feel the same, I'll be devastated. Yet at least I'll know I tried.

As long as I tried, that would be enough.

***

Tiny dewdrops collect on my bedroom window, chasing each other along the glass. Thick bunchy clouds have shrouded the afternoon sun, plunging our cul-de-sac into darkness. An unusual forecast for a summer evening in August.

Nevertheless, I've been lying under the sheets finishing the last few pages of The Great Gatsby. I can't believe I hit the pause button for so long. My life was at a standstill. The car was trapped in mud and all I did was rev the engine. I could've gotten out of the car and pushed myself out, but I resigned myself to failure.

Not anymore.

The rain is pouring now, and the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the house sounds tranquil in the dim light of my bedroom.

Suddenly, the peacefulness dissipates. A disconcerting thud echoes outside, and my eyes dart to the window. There, on Gray's side of the street, a young woman lays on the sidewalk. Her turquoise bicycle is strewn onto the road and she appears frazzled. It appears, amidst the brewing storm, her bicycle slid on the wet pavement and she tumbled into the curve. Unsure what to do, I remain there for a moment. Soon enough, Gray comes running out of his house and down to the sidewalk. Of course he ran out to help. Gray's probably the kindest person I've ever met.

After propping up her bicycle, Gray helps the young woman up. Upon catching a closer look at her shimmery obsidian black hair and curved frame, I recognize her as Naomi Davis - the most sought after girl at Santa Barbara High School. Every guys chases after her. Well, every guy except me.

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Naomi almost slips back onto the pavement, but Gray steadies her with his muscular grip around her petite waist. I blink, wondering if I'm hallucinating or if the exchange before me is actually happening. Gray says something that I can't quite make out, and Naomi giggles, flipping her damp tresses back to expose her clinging yellow blouse. Meanwhile, Gray's hand doesn't leave her waist. Instead, it ushers her into his house while the free hand carries her bicycle in stride. I watch the two of them step into the vacant household until the front door slams shut, closing off any chance I ever had with Gray.

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