Read Online Color Me Pretty by C.M. Stunich - Free Book Online
Authors: C.M. Stunich
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based on our inability to understand something that's foreign, something that we perceive to be capable of hurting us. If I can get reacquainted with my worst enemy, learn its strengths and weaknesses, then maybe I won't be so scared anymore.
Emmett knows this so he doesn't bother to say anything except, “I'm glad, Claire. Really, I am. I thought for awhile there that you were going to … die.” Emmett swallows, and I know that word hurts us both to hear, but it's necessary. I need to face the facts. I close my eyes and try to come up with a mantra. My old one – Skinny is beautiful. Skinny is pretty. Skinny is perfect. – isn't going to work for me anymore. If anything, I guess I've learned that sometimes, skinny is ugly. Sometimes it's scary. Sometimes it's deadly. So I keep my eyes squeezed shut and I listen to Emmett's gentle breathing. He stays quiet, too, and lets me think. After awhile, Emmett starts to talk again, and I listen, my mind whirling through the events of the past few days and trying to pull together something positive. “And in that short time where I really believed you were, I almost died, too. I thought, if I can't save her, then there's no hope for me because you're special, Claire, and the world would really be missing out on something if you weren't in it.”
Live for them. Live for him. Live for me.
I smile.
It's corny, but I don't care. Nobody's going to know I'm thinking it except maybe Emmett. I repeat the mantra to myself several times before speaking again.
“I think you're ridiculously romantic,” I admit. “But don't ever stop. It's actually kind of cute.”
“You mean sexy and debonair, right?” he asks, and I chuckle, feeling a tingle inside that can't be stopped. It's a spark for life and it's burning, faintly perhaps, but it's there. Babies don't come into this world knowing how to live it, and so neither should I. I can't be too hard on myself. Right now, I'm remembering how to walk again, and that should be enough.
“On the way here,” I begin, wondering if Kylie's listening in on us at all. I can still hear the faucet in the bathroom, so I'm not sure. “I drew a girl in a dress on the window. It's gone now, but I still can't get that image out of my head. I think I might have to learn to sew.”
“I think you'd be damn good at it,” he tells me and then, almost as if he can sense the phone is about to shut off, he adds. “And Claire, when I said I loved you, I meant it.” Click.
I close my eyes for a moment and press the receiver against my chest. Inside of me, the flames of passion I feel towards Emmett begin to burn away the pain, setting fire to the anguish and turning it to ash. When I finally and fully admit to myself that I, too, love Emmett in return, there'll be none left.
I have a long way to go.
“God, you've got it bad,” Kylie says, making me jump. I was so entranced in Emmett that I completely forgot where I was and who I was with. I set the phone down and turn to glance at her over my shoulder. She's smiling at first, but the longer she stands there and the longer I stare, the sadder she gets. Finally, as if they've been waiting years to fall, tears begin to stream from her eyes. Without a word, I pat the bed next to me, and she comes and sits. This girl that I've known for a few, sparse hours finds comfort in me and lays down with her head in my lap.
She sobs for awhile and then goes quiet, falling into an uneasy sleep and taking her secrets along with her. Again, I wish I knew her story. I stroke some honeyed curls behind her ear and sigh. Love is redeeming, but it's also destructive. Or at least, it can be. That worries me. If I give Emmett my heart, I give him power. But I trust him; I trust him more than I trust myself.
A few minutes later, an orderly comes to check on us, opening the door without knocking and not bothering to shut it behind her. Thankfully, she doesn't stay long.
“When I get out of here, I'm going to finish what I
Emmett knows this so he doesn't bother to say anything except, “I'm glad, Claire. Really, I am. I thought for awhile there that you were going to … die.” Emmett swallows, and I know that word hurts us both to hear, but it's necessary. I need to face the facts. I close my eyes and try to come up with a mantra. My old one – Skinny is beautiful. Skinny is pretty. Skinny is perfect. – isn't going to work for me anymore. If anything, I guess I've learned that sometimes, skinny is ugly. Sometimes it's scary. Sometimes it's deadly. So I keep my eyes squeezed shut and I listen to Emmett's gentle breathing. He stays quiet, too, and lets me think. After awhile, Emmett starts to talk again, and I listen, my mind whirling through the events of the past few days and trying to pull together something positive. “And in that short time where I really believed you were, I almost died, too. I thought, if I can't save her, then there's no hope for me because you're special, Claire, and the world would really be missing out on something if you weren't in it.”
Live for them. Live for him. Live for me.
I smile.
It's corny, but I don't care. Nobody's going to know I'm thinking it except maybe Emmett. I repeat the mantra to myself several times before speaking again.
“I think you're ridiculously romantic,” I admit. “But don't ever stop. It's actually kind of cute.”
“You mean sexy and debonair, right?” he asks, and I chuckle, feeling a tingle inside that can't be stopped. It's a spark for life and it's burning, faintly perhaps, but it's there. Babies don't come into this world knowing how to live it, and so neither should I. I can't be too hard on myself. Right now, I'm remembering how to walk again, and that should be enough.
“On the way here,” I begin, wondering if Kylie's listening in on us at all. I can still hear the faucet in the bathroom, so I'm not sure. “I drew a girl in a dress on the window. It's gone now, but I still can't get that image out of my head. I think I might have to learn to sew.”
“I think you'd be damn good at it,” he tells me and then, almost as if he can sense the phone is about to shut off, he adds. “And Claire, when I said I loved you, I meant it.” Click.
I close my eyes for a moment and press the receiver against my chest. Inside of me, the flames of passion I feel towards Emmett begin to burn away the pain, setting fire to the anguish and turning it to ash. When I finally and fully admit to myself that I, too, love Emmett in return, there'll be none left.
I have a long way to go.
“God, you've got it bad,” Kylie says, making me jump. I was so entranced in Emmett that I completely forgot where I was and who I was with. I set the phone down and turn to glance at her over my shoulder. She's smiling at first, but the longer she stands there and the longer I stare, the sadder she gets. Finally, as if they've been waiting years to fall, tears begin to stream from her eyes. Without a word, I pat the bed next to me, and she comes and sits. This girl that I've known for a few, sparse hours finds comfort in me and lays down with her head in my lap.
She sobs for awhile and then goes quiet, falling into an uneasy sleep and taking her secrets along with her. Again, I wish I knew her story. I stroke some honeyed curls behind her ear and sigh. Love is redeeming, but it's also destructive. Or at least, it can be. That worries me. If I give Emmett my heart, I give him power. But I trust him; I trust him more than I trust myself.
A few minutes later, an orderly comes to check on us, opening the door without knocking and not bothering to shut it behind her. Thankfully, she doesn't stay long.
“When I get out of here, I'm going to finish what I
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