Blue & Green

10

"Fear is the mother of foresight."

In the morning, the day after she received the first letter, came another, on stained yellow notepad paper. I love your hair when it gleams in the sun. She crammed it into a box under her bed with shaking hands and a mouth full of bile. Her stomach was aching as she walked downstairs and nibbled on burnt toast, unable to stomach much else, but that came up again almost immediately. After she brushed the bitter taste of vomit out of her mouth, she glanced outside, not seeing the black car.

If he wasn't in the cul-de-sac, where was he? Hiding in a van? The idea of him watching her from a van, maybe even hooking up cameras in her house, made her shiver.

The house was silent, except for the quiet creaking of the old foundation settling; no one else was home except her and every noise made her jump, every car door slamming made her jerk, every yell made her skin crawl. She hadn't been this jumpy for a while and it was kind of funny to her how easily her imagination could run away with her.

Having had enough of the spooks, Chloe grabbed a heavy jacket, her wallet and her phone before she headed out the garage, dragging her bicycle out from behind some boxes of her dad's musty jackets. Maybe a bike ride to Derek's house would help.

Derek didn't answer the door; instead, a girl with long, blonde hair and big, grey eyes answered. She had half her hair up in a bun and was holding a box of hair dye.

"Oh, u-um," Chloe squeaked, stepping away, "h-hi. I-is um Derek here?"

"So you're Chloe," the blonde girl said flatly, tilting her head a bit and eyeballing Chloe in a manner that left the strawberry blonde a bit unnerved. "Derek isn't in, but I'll tell you dropped by."

"Ah, okay," Chloe managed.

"Lighten up, would ya?" the girl suddenly laughed, a smile breaking across the calm on her face as she lunged at Chloe and swept her up into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm Liz. You've grown up, Chloe! You have boobs now too!"

"L-Liz? Delaney?" Chloe asked, blinking as she rubbed her sore ribs. Last time she saw Liz, the other girl was half a foot shorter and about seventy pounds skinnier. Now she was a knockout, with muscular thighs and a butterscotch tan and a nose ring.

"Yup. Derek really isn't here though. He said he had to work or something. But come in! Tori and Simon are here. Guys!"

The mood change made Chloe pause.

"Oh, I wanted to see how you'd react to a rough-and-tough me. Guess you really are the same. So meek, so demure," Liz giggled as she laced her fingers through Chloe's and tugged her into the house.

"Who says demure anymore?" Tori asked as she stepped away from a chair next to the sink, holding a black plastic bowl and a hair dye application brush. "Oh, hey. Derek's working until three," she informed Chloe.

Liz set down the box of hair dye, which made Tori groan.

"What're you doing with your little blue hands all over her? Stop that and come sit before you ruin something," she demanded and Liz skipped over, dragging Chloe with her. "Drop, Liz."

Obediently, Liz dropped Chloe's hand and instead played a little bit in a puddle of water on the counter, dragging her finger through it in a circular motion. "Tori's dying my hair for me since my mom finally said yes," she explained. "What's been going on in your life?"

"M-my dad got married to Jacinda. You know, Rae's mom. And Royce apparently overdosed. Rae's taking meds too," Chloe said in a rush, unable to keep it off her chest. "And my dad never told me until I went to his cabin and she answered the door."

Liz started sputtering indignantly. "That's—how could he—Rae's mom—she ruined the funeral!" she managed to yell and stated to move, which in turn made Tori swear at her as a glob of blue paste ran down Liz's neck.

"Sit still unless you wanna become a part of the Blue Man group!" Tori snapped and Liz froze like a statue, making faces at Chloe.

"Yeah," Chloe laughed. A car door slammed somewhere close by and her skin tightened, goosebumps breaking out across the surface. Her scalp tingled. Her entire body flushed with cold as she licked her dry lips and glanced out the window.

A red pickup sat at the curb of someone's house, a handyman services' logo across the side doors. No black GMC. Despite seeing no car, her skin continued to prickle and she borrowed one of Derek's sweatshirts since she knew he wouldn't care, but it didn't ward off the cold in her veins.

"You look really pale, Chloe. Are you feeling okay?" Liz asked, turning to face her after Tori finished applying the hair dye and was washing out the container under the tap. Liz's grey eyes stared at Chloe steadfastly.

"Nah, I'm feeling a bit stuffy," Chloe lied quietly, unable to bring up the sensitive topic of Andrew's stalking.

Liz pursed her lips. "You better not get me sick, girl," she said.

Chloe managed a weak laugh and disguised it by coughing. "I think I'm gonna head home," she managed, trying her best to sound nasally. He can't get to you, she told herself as she hugged Liz and Tori and headed back home on her bike. The wind stung her cheeks and numbed her fingers but she found she couldn't care any less.

When she got home, she placed her bike in the garage and realized there were three notes sitting in the cup holder on the handlebars of her bike. The first one had a ring from a coffee cup, browning the paper. The ink was blue and in the same shaky penmanship as before.

That's a very nice bike you have, it read with a smiley face at the bottom.

The next one was on a crumpled sheet of notebook paper. It seemed sloppier than the first, with tears all over it like whoever had written it had borne down too hard. You'd look even better with blue streaks. It would bring out your freckles.

Her stomach turned.

The last one was the worst, honestly; the paper was fancy, like it was from a stationary, and the penmanship was careful, deliberately attempting to be smoother than the rest.

You never told me Derek was your boyfriend. Such a naughty girl; I should punish you.

Chloe quickly folded the letters, checked the cul-de-sac for his black GMC and then hurried into the house, locking all the doors, drawing the blinds, and locking the windows. It's probably someone just fucking with me, she thought frantically as she closed her curtains and put the letters in the box under her bed.

It's not him.