taste my rainbow

I noticed her mid September. Barely enough time passed for our little lunch group to be called a clique. She sat between the softball hoss and the soccer dreamboat. Skittles. That is all she ever ate at lunch, skittles and Mr. Pibb. At first I thought nothing of it. But after the first few weeks of school, I started to wonder if she was some sort of weird anorexic. I learned that wasn’t the case as our little lunch group started to merge into Friday night movies and Saturday night diners. She ate just like the rest of us.
By late October, I noticed her lunch routine. She entered the cafeteria through the back entrance, hopped in the short line for the vending machine. She would then shift to the soda machine next, hit the third button and retrieve her beverage. She always beat us to the table. Did she despise cafeteria food? Why didn’t she just brown bag it then? Was her family’s economic status too low to afford her a nutritional meal? Or was she just a freak and didn’t like pizza Fridays?
I grabbed my chow, a healthy bowl of nachos and cheese (dairy check, meat substitute check) and the biggest undercooked cookie under the heating lamp (vegetable oil check) and a large orange soda from the fountain (fruit check). I paid the lunch lady and waltzed my way to our table. Sitting down across from her, the table was already half full with the usual crowd.
“Hey Tiffany, want to go to the Record Empire after school? Mom gave me forty bucks to pick up a cd for her and she told me to keep the change,” she called down the table. Tiffany nodded and tried to say sure with a load of fries in her mouth. Well that went the money theory. She opened the little red bag and took a handful of skittles. She placed them on the table and grouped them by color. She ate the orange ones first, then the green, then the purple. She left a red one sitting there lonely as she took another handful from the bag.
“Rob, hello? Are you going or not?” Steve pushed me on the shoulder snapping me out of my stare on her organization.
“Huh? Where?” I asked. He laughed and popped a chip into his mouth.
“Maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at Chrissy; you would have heard me ask if you were going to homecoming. I asked Rebecca and she said yes. I was thinking we could all pile into my mom’s van and go to Durk’s house after. “
“Um yeah, I was going. I haven’t asked anyone though.” I took a hearty drink from my Styrofoam cup.
“I thought by now you would at least have texted her.”
I shook my head. “Why would I do that? I don’t know her that well. We just have English and Bio together.”
“Dude,” he said, drawing out the u as much as the English language would allow,” She’s kinda hot. I didn’t ask her cuz I thought you were. You stare at her long enough every day.”
“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talkin about.” I ended the conversation with hot cheese and grease burning on my tongue. If Steve noticed, Steve-I’ve-only-lived-this-long-due-to-advances-in-cranium-emergency-medicine, then I wondered if she did. I must look like a stalker analyzing his next victim.
I kept my eyes focused on my lunch the next few days, trying to keep myself from figuring out the sugar lunch mystery. But by Friday, I was back to watching her group the little rainbow candies. She grouped them by color, and ate only two at a time from each group. Never mixing, always matching. If there was only one of a color, she would leave it sitting on the table and take out another handful and integrate the lost soldier into ranks. She never started with the same group. It always changed. There was no logic in her process. The first session was reds first, the next green. By the end of lunch she had one green and one purple left. She scooped them up with the empty red bag and tossed them out. She didn’t finish them. There had to be some logic to her insanity.
By December, her little process started to irk me. I couldn’t figure out the method to her madness. I figured out though that in her little color groups, she started with the group that had the most members. Eating them two by two, she would leave the sole odd piece out, to wait for the next regimen. This time however, after all the bag was done, she had five pieces left. Red, green, purple, yellow and orange. I assumed she would just pitch those away as she had done previous survivors. But she threw in a new rule just to piss me off. She popped them all into her mouth and walked off. Damn it. Another exponent thrown into the equation.
That night as I lay in bed, I kept my mind focused on searching threw my Ipod for songs to get rid of. The whole time my mind went terrorist on me. Orange was always last. Green after yellow, purple before them both and red always came first. Wasn’t alphabetical, or reverse alphabetical. Larger groups first sole members thrown away unless all five colors remained. What was the pattern? What was the reasoning to eat them in this fashion? Was everyday life like that for her?
“She’s ocd. There doesn’t have to be a pattern for ocds. “I said aloud. I never met an ocd person in real life. I saw that bald guy from that suitcase game on the cover of people. They were talking about his ocd. He washed his hands constantly. He made sure the fringes on his rug where straight before he left the house. But I don’t ever remember him acting weird on the show. If she was ocd, there had to be something else she was obsessed about. I had to figure out what.
Late January, I decided to find out. I hung out by the fountain next to her locker. When she arrived to change out her books, I took an extra long drink from the water spout. Viewing out of the corner of my eyes, I couldn’t see anything too organized in her locker. The back of the door was covered in drawings and band logos, and she took no time at all to swap out books. I thought ocds took extra long lengths to straighten and reorganize, never getting their obsession to perfection. She slammed the door and walked off to Bio. I stood straight, trying to watch her down the hall. It took a bit for my eyes to refocus straight after straining to view sideways.
“Come on man, you gonna drink the whole river?” A sophomore behind me asked.
“Sorry,” I said and followed after her. Not following her, but to bio. We shared the class together.
At lunch, I watched her from the lunch line. She pulled out change from the side pocket of her enormous green purse. Exact change I figured as she never grabbed any spare coins from the coin return slot of the vending machine. She put her dollar in the soda machine, pressed the third button down then almost skipped back to the lunch table. Fifth seat from the end, across from mine. Her chair was yellow. Her chair was always yellow. The chairs alternated between blue and yellow, our school’s colors. What if her chair wasn’t yellow? What would she do? Would she not sit, or go the extra step and switch chairs?
“Duuuuudddeee, what’s the holdup? Are you getting a cookie or not?” Steve asked behind me.
“Huh?” I asked.
“Man, you’re holding up the line. Are you becoming obsessed with her or what? You follow every move of hers.”
“Shut up. Besides, isn’t she going out with that Senior Matt Hollis?” I grabbed the cookie that looked the least done and my orange soda. I paid the lady and sat down at the lunch table, keeping my eyes on my tray.
How do I throw a wrench into her well oiled system? What if there weren’t any skittles in the vending machine? Or Mr. Pibb? Or what if by some freak chance she got a bag of all green ones?
“Rob, did you finish that bio paper for Mr. Hubble? I don’t think I have enough data on the bean plants and I was wondering if I could see yours for comparison.” Chrissy asked, popping two red candies into her mouth.
“Uh, yeah, no, I haven’t finished it. I got all my stuff at home though. I can drop it off tonight if you want.” I said, fumbling over every word.
Her eyes widened. “That would be awesome. If I get an A on this paper I won’t have to take the exam.”
“You got straight A’s in his class?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yep. So far I don’t have to take any exams. The rest of this quarter should be easy sailing.”
I nodded back. “Okay, see you around 7ish?”
“Perfect,” she said and finished off the last two greens.
Around 7:20 I took the stairs to her house two at a time. I rang the door bell twice and knocked once. Through the frosted glass I could see her silhouette skip to the door.
“It’s for me,” I could her call to unknown inhabitants. She swung the door open her smile starting to grow on me. Her eyes where bright blue against her long dark hair.
“Hey you, thanks so much for coming.”
“No prob. Here ya go,” I said as I handed her my notes from bio.
“Cool. You want to come inside? I’m in the middle of Guitar hero and can’t beat the devil on hard. My brother is making fun of me.”
“Um, yeah, cool. Lead the way.”
I followed her upstairs to her room. The house was in immaculate order. Was that her other ocd thing? Clean? I was proved wrong once again as I entered her room. The floor was tidy, but the several book shelves against her walls where filled with books stuffed every which way. Some were standing vertical, some laying horizontal, no order to authors, genre or title. No size order or hardback to soft back classification. Her dresser hosted a mess of gaudy costume jewelry, pictures of classmates, incense and cd’s. Her bed sheets were wrinkled into a bunch at the head of her bed, Mardi gras beads hanging from the posts in multicolor. Uncheck that theory.
She flung the papers on her desk, also in a disarray of text books and papers and pens. She picked up the guitar with its multicolored buttons. Was she eating them to a song? No stupid, I thought to myself, there aren’t any blue skittles except in the tropical fruit ones and she ONLY eats original flavor.
“Ok, so if I don’t beat this song tonight, I lose the bet. And I do not want to be cleaning out the garage my whole weekend.” She pressed start on the controller and the Devil comes to Georgia started to play. She made it to the middle of the song before the crowd booed her.
“Aarrgghh! I’m screwed.” She said taking the guitar off her shoulder.
“Mind if I try?” I asked. She handed me the guitar. I had beaten this game when it first came out. Stayed up all night and beat it. The next day all I could think was red green red blue yellow. Maybe that’s what she thinks at lunch?
I beat the level on the first try and decided to impress her one step more. I switched it to Expert and beat that one in two tries. After the electronic audience applauded me, I handed her back the guitar.
“That was so awesome. I think I will tell my brother it wasn’t me after he cleans the garage.”.”
“The rest of the house looks pretty clean from what I saw; I can’t imagine the garage being much different.”
She laughed and turned the console off. “I have three brothers who are always in trouble. My dad was an ex marine, so their punishment was to clean. Every corner, with a toothbrush. Last week Danny and Dustin put a stink bomb in their teacher’s drawer. So now their mornings start at 5am with a tooth brush and Lysol.”
I laughed. I thought my dad was brutal when he took away my phone.
“Chrissy! Come here for a minute!” I heard what must have been her mom call from downstairs.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and skipped out of the room. Why hadn’t I noticed her smile before? She had one dimple, on her left cheek. And her eyes were brighter than any blue I had seen before. Not to mention she had a rockin a*s in those jeans.
I hadn’t noticed because I was too busy trying to crack the code to the skittles thing. I looked out the door to see if she was coming back. Coast was clear. I wonder if maybe she was ocd about her drawers. I read online that obsessive compulsion could make a person completely neglect one area of their life while trying to perfect another.
Opening the top drawer in her matte black dresser, I noticed her socks neatly folded. No real shock there. Everyone would like to grab a match first thing in the morning. Second drawer, theory dissolved. Her underwear and bras lay in a mess, no organization there. But at least I got to see what was under those jeans.
“Um, I don’t think there is anything in there that will fit. My panties might be too small and you look more like a minus a cup, not a c.” She said from the doorway.
I slammed the drawer and turned to face her. Her face wasn’t furious at the intruder in her intimates.
“Sorry,” I mumbled and ran past her out her door and through the woods to my house I stumbled.
Great, I thought, she’s going to think I am a freak.
That night I lay in bed once more and thought about that evening’s mishap. Would she ever talk to me again, or worse smile at me again. Would she avoid me and sit somewhere else?
Wait that would be the test of her ocdness. She wouldn’t just sit somewhere else. No, she would resume normal routine. What if I threw out another exponent? What if there weren’t any skittles left in the vending machine? Or Mr. Pibb? Or yellow chair?
The next morning I got to school earlier than usual. I entered the lonely cafeteria and almost ran to the vending machine. I took out twenty bucks from my wallet and bought every red bag from E7. I stuffed them in my back pack and proceeded to the soda machine.
“Not well thought through,” I told myself after purchasing three items from button number three. They wouldn’t all fit in my back pack, especially if it was just stocked. Luck was on my side when it only took five hits from the button to sell out. I pitched the bottles into the trash can before going over to our empty table. I switched all the chairs to blue on her side and yellow on mine. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen at 12:15.
Bio lasted forever. I kept looking back at Chrissy to see if she was mad after last night. Each time I looked back, she met my stare with those amazing blue eyes. And she smiled a few times at me that dimple on her left cheek almost winking at me. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair.
No! My brain shouted. You have to crack the code. You have to stop the insanity of the skittle method.
The bell rang for lunch and I nearly toppled my desk trying to beat everyone to the lunch line. Grabbing only my cookie and orange drink, I stood in the corner and watched her from across the cafeteria. She was second in line for the vending machine. When it was her turn, I saw her face sink a little when she realized her beloved E7 was empty. I should have been happy to stop the skittle charade but instead, I felt guilty. I didn’t like her with a frown on.
She walked to the soda machine and plugged her change into it. She hit the third button three times but it didn’t release any prize. She cocked her head to the side and her shoulders sunk.
Yes, I thought, score two. But I wasn’t at all pleased. I looked over to the trash can I had thrown them into that morning. I felt like I had killed her kitten.
She chose button four and walked over to the table and plopped down, resting her cheeks into her palms. She didn’t seem to notice the chairs, so that was one equation out the window. I inhaled deeply and walked over to the table. She looked up at me and the smile returned. The guilt started to build up, but I had to follow through with lunch. Maybe she would spazz out mid way through, start freaking out.
I sat sown and took a drink from my orange fizziness heaven. I took another deep breath and looked across to her.
“Hey, about last night, I feel like a total a*s,” I said quickly.
“You should,” she torted but followed it up with that wonderful dimple. She had a tiny freckle on her nose that was cuter than a puppy playing with a ball. “But that’s okay. All forgiven.”
I exhaled. “Oh good. Hey listen, I was wondering if tonight you would go with me to…” I started before Matt Hollis sneaked up behind her.
“Hey baby,” He said. “Where’s lunch?”
“Matt, hey. No skittles. I am thinking there is a rainbow shortage. “She said.
“Well, I have to get back to class. I just wanted to give you a birthday present.” He pulled out an economy size bag of Skittles. I thought her smile would break off her face.
“Oh my gosh, this will last me all week!” She jumped out of her chair and gave the d=handsome devil kiss on the cheek.
No NO NO NOOOO! My head internally screamed. I slammed my tray and jumped away from the table fuming. F**k that, I muttered to myself.
That night lying in bed, I was still fuming over lunch. My plan had completely backfired. Chairs didn’t make a difference, the soda didn’t and that a*****e pretty boy had to give her enough skittles to last a week.
Suddenly my phone chimed. Text message from Steve

Dude, y so pissed @ lunch

Nothing

bc of Matt? heard u went 2 her huse last nite

No, just gave her some papers and played guitar hero

Ok so pissd cuz u ddnt score

Man if you textme again with that abbreviated s**t again im gonna punch u in the face

Lol omg u like her dude u need 2 ask her ot she broke up w/ him aftr skool

Why?
She found outhe was cheatin on her w/ courtny shes avail ; )

Shut up

Whtev7


Idiot, I said aloud. Maybe I didn’t get so mad that the plan failed. Maybe I was pissed at Matt. She had a great personality, and wasn’t fake like a lot of girls in my class. And she was hot. And those eyes. Blue round eyes. Round like skittles.

Skittles.

What the f**k was up with the skittles?

“F**k!” I nearly shouted. I jumped out of bed and zipped up my pants. I threw on a shirt and raced down stairs…
“Where are you going?” My dad asked before I could make it out the door.
“I uh, forgot to get laces for the game tomorrow. My other ones broke. Be back in a minute.” I said and rushed out the door. He would buy that.
I raced to the convient mart above legal speed. I ran into the mart nearly knocking over Jim Bob, the town drunk. Falling into the candy aisle, I grabbed every flavor and bag of skittles. Original, tropical, sour, wild berry. The clerk at the counter eyed me funny.
“96.35,” she said. I pulled my credit card out of my wallet and swiped it. Dad’s gonna kill me but that was a risk to take.
I snatched the three bags stuffed to handles and tossed them to the passenger seat. Once again, no cop’s radars spotted me as I did 70 to her house.
I slammed on the brakes, nearly taking out the oak tree in front of her well manicured lawn. I grabbed the bags and left the keys in the ignition. The handle broke on one, spilling the candies all over her lawn. I stopped under her window and grabbed a handful. Ripping them open, I flung the candies at the glass.
“You want the orange ones first? Huh? Eat em all!” I shouted. I flung everyone form the first bag with not a single light turning on.
Ripping through the second bag, the neighbor’s dog started to bark.
“Yeah, you know the green ones are the best. Green is MY favorite color. Eat the green ones first. Eat em!” I started to scream. Neighbors started looking through their windows at my show of affection.
“What are you doing son?” The old man next door to her stood on his porch. “I’m going to call the cops!”
I flung three little bags at him. “Eat the f*****g rainbow man!” I yelled. The light in her bedroom turned on. I threw another bag at the glass. The lawn was covered in multicolored roundness falling from the sky. The glass above flew open.
“Rob is that you,” my blue eyed candy goddess spoke. “what the hell are you doing?”
“I thought you might want to try wild berry?” I asked holding up a little purple bag.
“You are insane! Go home!” She slammed the window shut.
I was the lone green one. She wouldn’t eat me. She would throw me away, like the other sole ones.
“No, don’t!” I started to scream hysterically. “I can be green or yellow or red, don’t throw me away. Try mixing em! You’ll like it! You’ll like me! I’m not crazy. I can be red!” I started chucking complete bags at her bedroom. When my ammo ran out, I fell to my knees and scrambled to pick up the tiny little candies of love. “See, I don’t care. I can eat them all!” I started to shove them in my mouth. As I screamed and chewed, the sweetness was followed by an earthly taste and a few twigs. I hope that was mud.
Handfuls candy and yard waste consumed to prove that I didn’t care about her ocd. I would support her system. In My peripheral. The rainbow started to come for me, flashes of the rainbow in red and blue and yellow, but there was no white color? I stripped off my clothes for the rainbow to take me to her. Especially the blue. Blue eyes. Tropical.


“Hey Chrissy, I heard what happened last night. Are you okay?” Tiffany asked across the table.
“Chrissy nodded as she opened up her red bag.
“Yeah. I always thought Rob was a little off, staring at me the whole time. I never thought he was Looney,” She said. “I have skittles everywhere in front of my house.”
“Why do you eat those anyway?” Steve asked
Chrissy smiled. “I had hypoglycemia when I was little and my dad always gave me skittles. You know for the sugar. I have gym first thing in the morning and feel so tired by lunch its better if I have some sugar.”
“Why do you eat them like that?” Tiffany asked.
“I guess to remember my dad. We would use them to teach me how to count and use colors. Then he taught me how to alphabetize with them.”
Wait, but red comes after purple in the dictionary.” Steve said.
“Yeah, but cherry comes before grape,” She said and popped two lemon flavored skittles into her mouth.

Reviews

[PoisonedFlower]

I started reading this and couldn't stop! It was really intriguing! I found myself kinda hoping Rob and Chrissy would get together, but I totally didn't expect the ending. I really like this!