Pink was my favourite colour.
It looked innocent, yet sweet. Cute, yet cheerful.
Just like me back in the last year of junior high school. The me who caught the eyes of a boy in grey-coloured uniform.
The boy was standing at the gate when I came to hand in some documents to enroll in the high school of my choice. When our eyes met, I smiled at him and passed by.
And it seemed my smile made him forget about the popsicle in his hands which started to melt under the sun, as his eyes followed me into the administration room.
The same boy who tried to get close to me throughout the first year of high school.
The same boy who brought me red roses, asking me to be his girlfriend when I turned eighteen.
Pink was the colour of his ears, whenever he felt pressured.
That was one of his habits, which I noticed after being his girlfriend for two weeks. Another one of his habits was to avoid looking at people directly when he uttered a lie.
He was smart. He ranked third in class, while I was third from the bottom. But that didn’t bother him; he taught me everything I needed for the exams without a single complaint.
He was quite sporty too. He was part of the basketball team which represents our school to competitions. Continuously adding three points to the team, he contributed a lot to winning each game. And for that, I was proud to be his girlfriend.
He was also willing to spend time with me. We always had our lunch break together; he liked it better than being with his friends. And for that, I felt very treasured by him.
More importantly, he was well-liked by my parents.
“Kevin has a good attitude and looks trustworthy,” my dad said.
“Kevin is quite handsome, you know. And he loves you so much too. What more is there to ask for?” my mother commented.
They liked him so much, to the point that they allowed him to stay at the house when they were away.
“Take care of Bella for this weekend, okay, Kevin?”
With him agreeing to the request, that weekend turned out to be very memorable.
We ordered pizzas, ate it in my bedroom, and didn't even think about washing the dishes. We played video games competitively against each other. And just when we grew tired of playing, we switched on the TV and began to watch a romance movie that I’d been wanting to see.
The movie led us to share our first kiss. And a couple more after that.
The kisses led me to lay on my back, with him whispering, “Can I?”
It was wrong; I knew it inside my heart. But that wasn’t enough to stop me from nodding my head. And a nod was all it took for him to start undoing the buttons of my blouse, unbuckling his belt.
It was the day I turned into an adult. It was hurting me, but I didn’t mind it; I did it for the sake of love. Yes, for love. For his fingertips that caress my chest. For the gentle touches of his hands on my hips. For the softness of his lips that kissed me again and again.
The same love that made me utter, “I gave you my first, so you have to take responsibility for it.”
The same love that led me to whisper, “Listen to me. Fulfil my request. Never look at other girls. And don’t even think of breaking up with me. Be with me forever until the day I die,” I paused, looked directly at his eyes.
“Pinky promise?” I stretched my hands toward him.
“Pinky promise,” he answered, intertwining his finger with mine as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling.
And I could see his ears turned pink.
Pink was the colour of my lip balm.
The one on my lips when he lovingly spoonfed me at the cafeteria. The same time when I realized someone was staring at us.
The one I put on when we were studying together at the library. The same time when I noticed a person who awkwardly hid her face when I turned my head towards the table behind me.
The one I had on my lips when I cheered on my one and only boyfriend during his basketball practice. The same time when I found out the green-eyed girl who had been following us, adoring Kevin from the other side of the court.
The same one on my pouted lips when I confronted him about this stalker. The same one on my smiling face when he agreed to bring me to the observatory, as I requested; his way to apologize to me. The same one I used as we argued in the car that evening.
“You don’t seem to enjoy this trip,” I opened the talk as I looked at his sour expression.
“No, I enjoy it,” he replied weakly, with his eyes fixed on the road, not batting an eye towards me.
“I think you're lying. You don’t like it because I force this into you, isn’t it?”
“No, no. I am fine.” Again, he didn’t look at me when he answered.
“You keep lying to me. It seems you don’t love me anymore.”
“What? No, I still love you.” Another denial without a glance.
“Then say it while looking at me.”
He sighed out loud just before answering, “I’m driving, Bella. I can’t do that!”
“Then, I take it as you don’t love me anymore. Stop the car, I don’t want to have a romantic stargazing picnic with someone who doesn’t love me,” I made a declaration out of anger. My hands reached to unbuckle the seatbelt.
I could hear him clicking his tongue at my request. I could see his ears turned hot pink as he let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” he finally turned his head, looking directly at my eyes. “I love you.”
I smiled upon his sentence, feeling satisfied. As I gazed at his eyes, I could see the sky turned orange thanks to the gradually setting sun.
“I love you too. Now, look at the view behind you, Kevin!” I pointed outside the windows. His eyes followed my finger, admiring the sunset for a few seconds.
And when our eyes returned to the road, our car had already been in the lane for reversed direction, where a teal-coloured truck sounded its horn, driving towards us.
And I could tell he desperately turned the steering wheel, wished it could bring us back to the correct lane, avoiding the truck. But instead, we drove past the railing.
And I could remember the split second when my body floated above the seat. The moment when airbag popped and created a painful ringing on my ears. The same moment when my body flew forward, breaking through the front glass, as I cursed my stupidity to unbuckle the seat belt.
And I remembered the deep dark forest below as I descended to the bottom of the cliff along with the car. Me, who screamed out of sharp pain from the glass cuts. Me, who screamed out of fear, knowing very well that it would be the day I die. Me, who landed on my back, experiencing immeasurable pain from the impact, with warm liquid flowing out from the back of my head.
And as I looked at the sunset for the last time, I recalled all the days that I’ve spent with him.
The happy times that we spent together, the not-so-happy moments where we argued with each other.
The pleasure of sharing our first kiss, the weekend when we shared our first time.
The pinky promise we made with each other.
And I gradually closed my eyes with pain all over my body.