Dreaming in Color Cameron Dane (ebook reader library TXT) 📖

“Sounds like you like it.”

“I do,” Marek agreed without hesitation. “There's a lot of love behind that red door.” The words just slipped out, and Marek skidded to a halt, stricken. “I mean—” He chanced a look at Colin, and the softening of the other boy's knowing green gaze said everything. He heard the pussy-ass longing in my voice. “Shit. If you—”

Colin immediately held up a hand. “It's okay. I promise.” He faced Marek dead-on, looked right at him, and did not waver as he spoke. “I swear I won't tell anyone you secretly like babysitting. You like them, and they like you. So what? Right?”

Caught up in Colin's easy acceptance, Marek very nearly leaned in and brushed a kiss on the other boy's lips. “Shit.” He ripped his gaze away and started walking.

Catching up the half dozen steps to Marek's side, Colin said, “I can tell you don't want anyone to know you dig your job. That's cool. They won't hear it from me.”

He didn't pick up on what almost just happened. Thank God. Marek started breathing easier once again. “There's something about them, you know?” He couldn't keep his defense of the Sumters out of his voice. After bottling up virtually all conversation about anything important to him, Marek couldn't seem to shut up with this boy. It was so very risky, but something in Colin's eyes said Marek could believe him; the guy would never sell him out. “When I knocked on their door the first time, Mr. Sumter treated me real nice, right from the start. He talked to me, and we negotiated a price for my services like I was a person who was equal to him. The first time I saw them as a group they came out of their house all together, laughing and just being this awesome picture of a cool family. I'm not saying they're perfect or anything; I've seen them fight, and the kids misbehave and get punished sometimes, but the parents don't talk down to each other, or to their kids. I've never seen Peter or Joan call them names or ignore them. They talk to the kids like what they say matters. It's a rare thing, I think. But then on top of that, I also think why shouldn't it be just like that for everybody.”

“Agreed.” Colin looked up, his face sober. “On both counts.”

“I want a house like them one day.” Marek confessed his most secret desire. “With a bright red door that makes a person feel cheerful and upbeat the second they see it, a door that reflects a loving family living inside.”

“That's a nice thing to wish for.”

Marek grabbed Colin's arm and spun him around. “You think so?” He searched Colin's eyes, his demeanor, terrified he would find deception or subterfuge somewhere inside the guy. He looked, but his shit detector remained silent. Fuck me. “You really don't think it's stupid?” he asked, unable to believe it.

“No.” Puzzlement pulled at Colin's eyebrows. He burrowed his hands under the straps of his backpack and shifted the weight. “Shit, I'm working my ass off studying with the smartest kid in school—that would be Jenna Fuller, whose house I was just at—trying to make sure I have good enough grades for college and then working at Gino's so I can afford the difference if I do eventually get in somewhere. Do you think my goal sounds stupid?”

“No.”

“Then why would I think yours is dumb?”

Marek stared at the question and challenge in Colin's eyes for a long time—too long—and felt his groin twitch. Oh, no no no. “Okay, so I believe you.” Marek spun away and put his legs to moving. Search for safe conversation. “What were you studying at Jenna's house?”

Colin laughed, and Marek started breathing easier. “What wasn't I studying might be a better question.”

The conversation went on from there with easy topics that didn't challenge Marek's secrets and privacy again, and by the time they parted ways, Marek was laughing uproariously at some stupid joke Colin told, having the best time of his life.

Unfortunately, some other guys saw them, and Marek's conversation with those boys right after changed everything again.

And destroyed Colin's world in the process.

* * * * *

Fingers snapped in front of Marek's face, jerking him out of his memories and back into the attic.

Colin leaned his elbow on his bent leg, and his eyes still looked like they tracked backward in time. “I can't believe I forgot about the walk we shared that day.”

Marek cleared his throat, swallowing the full answer to his query. “I think…I imagine what happened to you so close afterward takes up most of your memories of that time in your life.” The half truth nearly choked Marek as it came out.

“Good point.” Colin nodded. “The assault did take over my world and eclipse everything else around it for quite a long time.” His slouch against the wall suddenly went away. He held Marek's leg, studying him intently. “But you remembered the walk and conversation we had that day the entire time I've been here, didn't you?”

“Yeah.” Roughness filled that one word; the emotions of the memory—and what came after—still held Marek captive. “I thought that was probably why you were seeing a red door in your dreams, but it doesn't explain other aspects of your visions—” Marek couldn't take that comment any further without outright lying. “I didn't know what to say.”

“Maybe you were embarrassed about what you confessed so long ago.” Colin's hand traveled up from Marek's leg and caressed his arm with a comforting touch. “And maybe you didn't want to tell me that was the reason why you had the red door on this house torn down before you moved in? Because it didn't represent what you always hoped it would?”

Marek cleared more thickness from his voice before he could speak again. “That played a part.”

“Did you ever tell Payton about your dream for a house with