pink

the day he was new was the day i made a new friend.

he was my height, my age, and had pretty eyes. he was nice and sat next to me. his name was Pierce. like his piercing eyes, or piercing smile.

"hi." he said quietly, afraid of judgement or something.

"hi." i reply. i tried to seem tough and welcoming, but my voice has always been plain.

at lunchtime, i was alone, i'm almost always alone at lunchtime, but not truly alone. i have people all around me at my table, but they don't notice me, they don't talk to me.

"hi." i hear the same voice from earlier say next to me. i look up to meet his gaze.

"oh Pierce." i say.

he was standing with a sketchbook in hand, not a tray of food, but a sketchbook. who brings a sketchbook to lunch? Pierce did. was he ever afraid of it getting dirty? no.

thats when i realized, he only knew me.

"wanna sit with me?" i say quietly.

he nods softly with his piercing smile.

"sure." he said, sitting down across from me, setting his sketchbook on the table.

"thanks." he said.

"you're welcome." i said.

i looked down at the cover of his sketchbook, it was creased on all the edges and full with stickers, one stuck out to me, it was pink. an enchanting pink.

"i like your stickers." i say.

he looks down and covers it with his arms.

"i got them for free." he said quickly.

i was confused, was he embarrassed?

day after day, me and Pierce talked and talked the whole day away. he got loud with me eventually, he'd show me his drawings at lunch, and he wouldn't hide his stickers anymore.

"what's your favorite color?" i asked randomly on a rainy school afternoon. he stopped his piercing smile.

"thats not important." he said huskily.

i was confused again, was he embarrassed about his own favorite color? or colors? no way, i thought.

one day, everything changed, everything stopped. his piercing smile, his piercing eyes, his piercing laugh was gone. Pierce was gone.

Pierce is dead.

Pierce is gone.

Pierce Wilkins died at 8am in a car crash. Pierce died. Which i could never believe. but i had to.

what was his favorite color again? he didn't tell me.

what was his eye color? i'm forgetting.

what did his laugh sound like? i can't remember.

what did he smell like? i can't remember.

the week after he died i helped his aunt clean out his room.

i saw many colors, but one color i saw a lot of was pink.

"hey." i say.

"hm? whats up dear?" his aunt replied, stopping what she was doing and looking down at me.

"what was Pierce's favorite color?" i say softly.

"oh dear." she said. "it was pink."