Free Colorblind by Siera Maley

there doesn’t have to be years of tension and buildup. I just met you and I like you and that’s enough for me.”
    “Things aren’t always that simple,” I shot back, tensing.
    She exhaled audibly, watching me, and then seemed to hesitate before she spoke next. Her tone was gentle, like she wanted to tread carefully. “Harper, I’ve only ever lost one family member, and it was when I was young, so I won’t act like I know what that’s like. But the only person I’ve seen you happy around has been Robbie. This is about your mom, isn’t it?”
    I hesitated. I felt frozen in place as I tried to come up with a fitting response, but she’d caught me off guard. My silence was a reply in its own right.
    “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, offering me a small smile. “It’s okay to let people in sometimes.”
    “You promise?” I asked, even though I knew it wasn’t fair.”
    “I promise.”
    “I-” I paused, hesitating again. She was so earnest: so sincere. She had no idea she wasn’t telling the truth, and as I studied her, I couldn’t help but think, “What on earth is going to happen to you?”
    “Can I ask you something?” She spoke up suddenly. “Why Robbie? What is it about him that made it okay to keep him around?”
    I shifted my gaze to my lap with a soft sigh. “Well, it helps that I’m not attracted to him. And… his sister died a few years back. He gets it. And… I just have a feeling he’ll be around for a while.”
    “Doesn’t that get exhausting?” she marveled. “Looking at every single person like some sort of risk calculation? Comparing potential enjoyment as a result of being friends versus potential pain as a result of losing the friendship? Or of losing them ?”
    “Yes. It’s very exhausting.” I shrugged. “I wish I wasn’t like this, but I can’t change it.”
    “I think you can. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe the goal of life isn’t to get through it as painlessly as possible?” she asked me.
    I raised my head, genuinely caught off guard again. “No, not really.”
    “Well, there you go. There’s your problem. Life isn’t about the pain. It’s about the good parts. Think about it like… laser tag!” She brightened even as I forced a laugh. I could see the cheesy metaphor coming before she even began. “Like, I bet it’d be super easy to go a whole round without getting shot. You’d just have to hide in some corner where no one ever goes and sit there and do nothing. But that makes for a boring game of laser tag, and so no one does that, right? We all run around and put ourselves at risk so that maybe we’ll have some fun! See, life is like laser tag.”
    I stared at her for a moment, trying to keep a straight face. “Uh huh.”
    “That was a fantastic metaphor. I came up with that literally just now; wasn’t that awesome?”
    “For an improvisation,” I humored her. “The thing is, I know what it’s like to get shot, and I’ve learned from it. I’m not letting it happen again. You’ve never been shot, so you don’t know how bad it feels.”
    “I don’t,” she admitted, but she was smiling now. “But I do know how fun it is to not hide in a corner all game.”
     
    * * *
     
    Dad was waiting for Chloe and me with breakfast when we came downstairs the next morning. He had enough tact, thankfully, to not ask about our sleepover or about what I’d thought of Deborah while Chloe was with us.
    She left just before noon, and I walked her to the door. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised. “My parents want to see a movie with me tomorrow night, but I’m free every other night this week. I thought of something we might be able to do together next weekend.”
    “Oh no,” I joked.
    “It’ll be fun,” she insisted. “Trust me.”
    We stood together for a moment, face to face, and she looked like she wanted to say more.
    “I’ll see you around, then,” I said.
    She nodded. “Not going anywhere.”
    “I remember,”