Chapter THIRTY-FIVE

I strolled towards the coffee shop. The sky was brighter. The air wasn’t so cold. The seasons were changing. Spring was in the air. I could almost taste it.

My first walk after being out of hospital now felt like so long ago. I used to stare at the stopwatch and count the minutes I was able to survive on the outside, around other people. I couldn’t help but feel like this day, this walk, was a breeze. I was happy. Content. Cleansed.

That part of my past would never be erased. It couldn’t be. It could never be forgotten. But I was learning to deal with it. I had Mum and Kai to thank for that.

I waited for Kai at our picnic table. I folded the blanket like I had before, even though there was no rain on the table. A light mist of grey scattered over my surroundings. But I saw colours seeping to the foreground. I was in my own world. I breathed. My breaths lightened me. I felt calm. At ease.

The sound of Kai’s voice made me whip my head around a little too quickly. “One marshmallow hot chocolate for you.”

He handed me the takeaway cup. I took a sip. The sweetness hit my tastebuds. Kai plonked next to me. We leant close to one another and kissed. His kisses hadn’t changed. I still liked them. The way he looked at me with his beautiful eyes hadn’t changed. I still felt the warmth of a sunset when our eyes locked. Every dayI was falling more in love with him. And I knew it was OK to. I deserve it. I’m worth it.

We spent his lunch break together discussing potential future travel plans and our dream destinations. We both instantly agreed to visit London to see Big Ben and have tea with the Queen. For as long as I can remember, visiting the Louvre was something I’d dreamt of doing. Kai had started arranging a scheme for when we were in Paris, to spend the night at the Louvre. I played along, not that I would actually go through with it – even though some of his ideas were quite riveting – like cramming into bins or me somehow replicating a painting on our clothes so we’d blend in with an artwork.

I told him to come round to my house later that day so we could hang out. Because I wanted to see him. I wanted to be around him. I wanted to be with him and I knew he wanted to be with me. He wasn’t put off by my past. He wasn’t afraid to stay.

 

At home I stared in the mirror. Scanned my soft skin and smiled at myself for the first time in a long time. Luckily I had no deep scarring from the accident on my face. My fingertips felt the scar near my hairline, but that was easily covered up. There were prominent scars on my arms. I liked when Kai kissed them. When I’d touch the ones on my legs, they reminded me that I was alive. I knew that was what I wanted. I traced their designs like I was painting them. My scars are beautiful. 

I ran my fingers through my hair. I knew I was ready. Ready to cut it. Ready for that change. The long waves didn’t feel like mine anymore. The dark strands hung around my body and I felt like they were going to strangle me in my sleep. I told Mum I wanted to change it and she bought what we needed.

She put music on. Even though we played some of our favourite songs that we’d played countless times before, it was like I was listening to them for the first time. We camped on chairs in the kitchen and talked about a new style. I had rarely been to a hairdresser, Mum was always the one to cut my hair. I told her what style I wanted and within minutes she began cutting my locks. She gave it a big trim then mixed the hair dye. The strong smell took over the house but we didn’t care. The music continued to play. I was happy with the light it brought. Mum brushed my hair with the dye. After it was washed out, she cut my hair to the style I wanted.

I strutted to the bathroom, turned the light on and examined Mum’s work. A large smile stretched across my face. My lighter brown hair was shoulder length and felt so soft. I flicked it around like I was in some sort of shampoo commercial. I loved it. It felt like another weight had been lifted from my body, like I could breathe easier.

 

The doorbell rang. I knew it was Kai, but looked through the peephole anyway. He had come straight to my house from the coffee shop. I knew he had because he wore his usual all-black uniform and I smelt coffee through the door. I opened it. His cheeky smile stretched across his face.

“Hey, come in.”

Kai stepped inside. He hugged me tight then softly kissed my lips. “I’m liking the new hair.”

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“When did you do that?”

“Pretty much as soon as I got home from our lunch date.”

“It looks good.”

I held my smile. I was glad he liked it.

“So, do we have anything planned for tonight? Will we be watching those rich bitches again?”

“No. I’m not really in the mood for their drama … How about creating some art?”

Kai smiled. His eyes beamed.

We made our way into my Art Cave.

“I expect to see great things from you, Mr Pearson.”

“Art’s not my strong suit, Miss Swift.”

No, words are.

But for you, I’ll try. And don’t get all jealous if what I end up creating becomes this mega masterpiece that has the art critics and the entire world raving about my talent.”

I laughed at him and agreed I wouldn’t. I showed him around the slightly disorganised space and told him where everything was, so if he wanted it, he could just get up and get it himself.

Since my secret was out and my darkness had been overpowered by light, I had been in my Art Cave several times. I had won the war. Being in there made me feel like my old self – just a better, stronger model. I removed my evidence pieces and stacked them in the corner. I covered them with a blanket. I was still deciding what I should do with them. A part of me wanted to start a bonfire and light them up. Watch them burn and become ash. Another part of me wanted to keep them – not to hang them in my room or look at them every day – but to have them there, just in case one day I had an art exhibit of my very own and I was brave enough to share them.

“So how is my tattoo art coming along? Any progress?” Kai said.

“I’ve sketched a few things but nothing’s ready to show you. Right now I don’t feel that they’re good enough to be a permanent mark on your skin.”

“They must be good then. Isn’t this how you felt about the one Liam got done?”

“Kind of. It didn’t start out as a tattoo though.”

“Can I see one of your sketches? Pretty please.”

“No.” I smiled. “Not yet.”

“Go on, just a glimpse.”

“We’ll see.”

Once Kai became bored with his creation, he went over to the wall where my other canvases were stacked. He lifted up certain pieces and presented them to me, telling me which ones were his favourites, which ones he wished he had created and which ones he would take the credit for if he were speaking with art critics.

We spent the rest of the night in the lounge watching TV and talking. For a little while, Mum joined us. I leant back and relished the moment. I felt happy – true happiness.

A colour I never wanted to lose again.