The Rest of the World Was in Black and White (But We Were in Screaming Color.)

T

As a kid, I didn't know if I was ever going to see colors. My mom told me that she had seen colors up until the age of eight when her mom died. She didn't see them again until she was 19 and met my father, at which point in the story she usually broke into tears, remembering him.

Mom really didn't like talking about him.

Truthfully, I couldn't remember seeing colors. If I thought long and hard about it, I could remember a red block I used to play with as a kid, but anything past that was simply black and white. My mom said that it certainly was rare, but it was possible for me not to remember colors. She thought that maybe I'd stopped seeing them when Dad had died, but I thought it might've been even earlier.

In this world, everyone with eyesight is born seeing colors. Bright reds and greens and purples; you lose your colors the first time you see how crappy the world is. And then sometimes, you gain your colors back when you realize that it doesn't have to be so crappy. For most people, the moment when you realize the world isn't as crappy as they originally thought is when you hear your soulmate say your name for the first time. Some people – my mom would call them aromantics, I think – didn't really get a romantic soulmate to do that for them. Instead, they might get a platonic soulmate, or just a realization of how the world could be, but everyone, no matter what, had the chance to see colors again.

This is the story of how I saw colors again.

I moved to Toronto when I was seven years old. Before, my mother and I had lived in France, but it was getting too expensive for her, so she snuck us onto a cargo ship and sailed across the ocean. Honestly, she thought we were going to end up in New York, but once we'd arrived in Canada it was too much work to cross the border, so we took a bus the rest of the way to Toronto, where she knew some people. We didn't have too much money, so as soon as we arrived, we moved in with an old woman in the slums. I didn't know how we knew her, but she must have thought we were related somehow, because she was always pinching my cheeks and telling me how I took after "her side of the family." It didn't make too much sense, seeing as she wasn't French, but she didn't seem to question it. I learned not to, either.

Moving to Toronto wasn't the important part on my journey to see colors, though. Rather, it was who was in Toronto.

I met Felix Dawkins about a week after I moved across the street from him. He lived in an old house with peeling paint and a cracked window on the top floor where his bedroom was. I knew this because directly across the street, the window to my bedroom allowed me to see right into his. I happened to be staring out my window one night when flashes from his house caught my attention; flashes that happened to be coming from his room. Once my eyes had adjusted to the lights, I realized that the flashes weren't just coming from his room, but from him. I waved to him cautiously, and he flashed a smile at me. He gestured with his hands for about a minute with me staring at him, clueless, until he finally gave up and wrote down on a piece of paper – 'want to play?'

I wanted to shout, Of course! Do you know how long I've been without a playmate? I didn't shout that, obviously. That wouldn't have been cool; believe me, I wanted to look cool in front of this boy. But I wanted to shout it. Instead, I just started nodding, and gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled back at me for a moment until he turned around and closed his shutters, leaving me to stare at that broken window.

F

I met Tony when I was eight years old. He wasn't always Tony, though. Before, everyone called him Annie. His full name was Antoinette, but who had time to say that? I certainly didn't. Being with him was too distracting and busy to have the time to say much of anything, let alone a name he didn't even like. I liked it. I didn't think it fit him at all, but I liked it.

The first day I met him, I woke up at seven in the morning to bounce on Mrs. S's bed and yell at her to wake up.

"Mrs. S! Wake up, wake up!"

She sat up and opened her eyes, frantically looking around. "What's happened?" She exhaled loudly as she saw the only thing wrong was that I wasn't in bed.

"Chicken, it's seven o'clock. We're on summer holiday, remember? No need to wake up."

"Mrs. S, of course there's a need to wake up! There's a kid across the street that I want to play with today!"

"What? Who is it? The only person across the street is that nasty old woman Mrs. Wallis and her three cats."

I sighed. "No, there's a kid who moved in with her! I want to play!"

Mrs. S sighed. "Give me a moment to get dressed. Wake up Sarah, as well. She may want to play with this girl."

I frowned. Sarah had more friends than I'd ever hoped to. She was ten and a half, and thought she was oh-so-cool. I loved her – but this one was mine.

"I don't think Sarah will like her, S."

She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Alright, Fee. Get dressed." She walked off into the bathroom, shaking her head.

I just about ran into my room, ignoring Sarah's complaints as I rummaged through our drawers.

"Jesus, Fee, what're you doing?" she said, sitting up.

"I'm getting ready!"

"It's summer holiday. There's no need to get ready." She flopped back onto her bed and closed her eyes.

"I know! S is taking me to meet the new girl next door!"

Sarah opened one eye. "There's a new girl next door? How old is she?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Eight maybe? I get her, though!"

She huffed and closed her eyes, rolling over in her bed. "Then don't wake me up, yeah? I'm going back to bed."

"Night, Sarah."

She grumbled something that sounded a little like, "it's not nighttime, Fee," but I couldn't quite make it out.

Half an hour later, I was jumping around the kitchen while Mrs. S fried eggs on the stove.

"S, I'm not hungry! I want to go see the girl next door!"

She just laughed. "Hold up there, Chicken. You'll meet her as soon as you've gotten some food in you."

"But S," I whined. "I wanna go play with her!"

She laughed again. "Sounds like someone has a crush. Don't go doing anything crazy like professing your love for her."

I blushed and looked down, staring at the floor for a moment. I didn't have a crush on her. I didn't have a crush on any girl. For a long time, I'd been very confused. All the boys at school would talk about girls, and sometimes I'd try to join in, but it didn't feel right. Every word out of my mouth felt like a lie, so I'd stopped trying to fit in. I just kept to myself, instead. Sure, the girls were pretty, but I didn't want to be with them like that. I didn't tell the other boys any of what I was thinking, though. Sarah didn't think it was a good idea.

Sarah was good at spotting bad ideas.

"'Course not. Wouldn't want to do that," I said.

She smiled and placed a plate of eggs in front of me, mussing up my hair as she walked back towards the kitchen to fetch herself a plate. I shoved forkfuls of egg into my mouth, and by the time she'd gotten back to the table, I was already standing and on my way to the door.

"S, come on! We've got to go!"

"Alright, Chicken. I'm coming. You hold onto your horses, now."

I pulled open the door and ran outside, looking over at where Tony's house was. Over the years, it'd become more familiar to me than my own home with Sarah and Mrs. S, but I didn't know that then. I didn't know much of anything, then.

Pulling Mrs. S along, we reached his house at 7:31. I remember this because his windows were open in the front, and we could see him lying on the couch with a book in his hands, a clock right behind him. S knocked on the door hesitantly, and you could see Tony's eyes light up when he heard the sound. He stood up from the couch and ran to the door, slipping on the tile in his red socks. He opened up the door and smiled that Tony Sawicki smile that I loved so much. Up until then, I hadn't thought about a girl (or who I thought was a girl) in any other way than as a friend, but Tony was…. Wow.

I hadn't seen him clearly in the dark the night before. In the daylight he was, well, beautiful. He had long hair tied back in a ponytail – because as I would learn later, he wasn't so comfortable with it. (He really only kept all his hair because his mom liked it.) His eyes were deep and friendly and his nose had the most adorable dip to it. It would confuse me for a long time, why I thought he was so cute.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he smiled back, breathless. I looked down at the ground, trying to hide my blush.

"Well," Mrs. S began, "I hear you two want to play together?"

"Yeah!" he said, grinning. "I mean, if that's alright with you, ma'am."

Mrs. S smiled down at him, obviously delighted at his use of the word 'ma'am.' "That's perfectly fine, young lady."

Tony's grin dimmed ever so slightly.

"Is your mom or dad home?"

"Yeah, my mom is. She's in the office."

"Wonderful. Do you think she'd be okay with Fee staying here for a little while to play?"

"Oh, yes ma'am. I think she'd be fine with that."

Mrs. S looked over at me and smiled. Tony winked.

"I'll leave you two to play, then. Be home for lunch, Chicken, 'kay?"

"'Course, S."

She ruffled my hair again and started walking back home. I turned back to look at Tony. He was smiling.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello. I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

He stifled a laugh. "'Properly introduced?' What're you, the queen of England?"

"I dunno. Do you want me to be the queen? I could be." I smirked at him.

"Okay, sure you could be, but what about we start with who we really are, and not who we'd like to be. I mean, I'd like to be a monster truck driver, but seeing as I'm seven, that probably won't happen any time soon. I'm Annie." He held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Annie," I said, shaking his hand. "I'm Felix."

"Hmm. Nope, I don't think so. That name doesn't fit you. Do you have a nickname or somethin'?"

"My sister and foster mom call me Fee sometimes?"

He frowned. "Hmm, no. I guess Felix will just have to work for now."

All of a sudden, I felt my brain just about explode. Everything was bigger and smaller and there was heat and freezing ice and just as soon was it happened – it was gone. When I opened my eyes, (when had I closed them?) it was bright. Tony's hair wasn't a shade of grey anymore – it was brown. I could see endlessly into his big brown eyes and see what shade of purple the ponytail holder he had on was. I could see the blue in the sky and the beige of his walls and the pink of his lips.

Lips that I kind of wanted to kiss.

I stumbled backwards, and he put out his arms, as if to catch me. "Fee, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I-I'm fine. Fine. I just…. Have to go home for a second. I'll be back."

"What happened?"

I turned around to run home. "Nothing!"

T

The first time I met Felix, he acted weird as fuck. I was kind of freaked the hell out by him. Later, I'd figure out that the only reason he did that was because he saw colors again. He'd listen to songs and read poems and books all about color theory and what happens when you aren't your soulmate's soulmate. He was hurting for a long time, and as much as it hurt to say, I couldn't do anything. A lot of the reason he was hurting was because of me.

I couldn't bear it. Tough-as-nails Tony Sawicki couldn't bear seeing him hurting. Because, as much as I didn't believe it, I loved him. Love. Love him.

So that sure was confusing.

F

Tony's mom died when he was ten years old. I knew the day it happened because when I went to pick him up to walk to school that day he wasn't ready. Tony Sawicki was always ready. As much as he hated going to school, the only thing he hated more was being late to school.

"Annie?"

I ran up the stairs, still calling his name. "Annie! You okay? We're going to be late to school, hurry up!"

That's when I saw him. He was sitting in his mother's bed, curled up in a ball, barely even breathing. Blankets were piled on top of him, covering his face.

"Annie, come on! We're going to be late to school! S is waiting to drive us."

He didn't respond.

"Annie?"

I climbed onto the bed, sitting next to him. I didn't have the courage to touch him, just to see if he was alive.

"Annie?"

He sniffled. "She's gone."

I furrowed my brow. "What? Who's gone? Whoever she is, she'll come back, promise. You can tell me about her on the way to school."

He shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no. She's not coming back."

"Come on, don't say that, of course she is! Just tell me who's gone."

He wiped away a tear.

"Annie?"

"She's dead, Fee."

I froze.

"M-my mom is dead. Mrs. Wallis took her to the hospital early this morning because sh-she was having trouble breathing. A-and when she called a little while ago, sh-she said that… she wasn't having trouble breathing anymore. She wasn't actually breathing, anymore. Sh-she's dead."

I looked down at him on the bed. I didn't know what to say to him. How do you comfort someone whose mom just died? She was the only family he had. How do you comfort Tony Sawicki? Tony never needed any comfort. He was big and strong and could always cheer you up. But he wasn't Tony Sawicki right then. He looked so small. Tony Sawicki was loud and happy and energetic, but now, lying in the bed with the covers over him, I could see him for what he was: a scared little boy.

"What's gonna happen?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "I don't know." He turned his head and stared me in the eyes. His big brown eyes. Eyes he knew I couldn't say no to. I placed myself under the covers and just held him.

We didn't go to school that day.

T

The very first person I ever told I was trans was Felix. He was my best friend. I shared everything with him, from bad grades to secrets to stories – he knew everything about me. Which is why I was so scared to tell him this.

I sat him down the summer I turned 16 in his bedroom. He was still a year older than me – always would be – but I was the one in control in the friendship. Which is why I didn't understand how nervous I was. He would accept me, no matter what. Right?

"Okay, I'm gonna get right to it," I said.

"Yeah," he interrupted. "I'm still a little confused on what exactly 'it' is. Mind telling me soon?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm getting to it, jackass."

"Good, I thought you were going to make me wait all day for it." He smiled at me. He always knew how to make me feel better.

"Okay. I'm just… gonna… you know, say it." I took a deep breath. "I'm… not a girl." Okay, good, real smooth. Now elaborate on that, Sawicki. "I'm kind of a boy? Yeah. I mean, not like down-there wise, but, like, in my mind, I'm a dude. So it'd be great if I was a dude in your mind too."

He stared for a secon. "Huh. So, you're really a guy?"

I shifted in my seat. "Uh, yeah. You didn't really think I was a girl, did ya?"

Felix snickered. "If you were, it'd be a little confusing for me, considering you're my soulmate. I kind of have to tell you something, too." He took a deep breath. "I- I'm gay."

"Oh." I could feel myself growing warmer. Why was my face doing that? I wasn't supposed to get red. "Well, that's pretty cool. I'm pan. I mean, pansexual. It's kinda like being bi, but not really?" I looked up at him for confirmation that he understood what it was, and he nodded. "I mean, too. Also. In addition to being, like… a dude."

"I- I think it's called being trans? Right?"

"Y-yeah, it is. Always gotta be smarter than me, huh, Fee?" I said, cracking a smile at him.

Felix scoffed. "Well of course, Ann – " He stopped. "Wait, if you're a boy, then do you have a boy name that you want to be called?"

I stopped smiling. "Well, that'd make sense." Being a boy meant having a boy name, didn't it? I didn't like being Annie. I wasn't Annie. I wasn't Antoinette…. What boy names could come out of that? Anthony? Tony?

Tony. Tony worked.

"I – I was thinking Tony, maybe? That's a good name, right?" I stared at him. I couldn't figure out why I was so nervous. It was just a name. It was my name, though; my new name.

He smiled that big grin of his. "Yeah. Sure does, Tony."

As he uttered the last syllable, I was blinded - literally. I thought I was passing out or being punched in the back of the head or something. Everything was bright and –

"Wait," I started.

"What happened?" His grin disappeared and his eyes widened. "Are you okay?"

"Is that what blue looks like?"