A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (7 page)

I laugh softly. “That's a good way to put it. I noticed you've decided to drop the whole “Florence” thing. W-what's that about?”

I turn back to my reflection and close my eyes. There are a whole range of positive colours that can be associated with a person's aura. I just need to find the right one that can obliterate all of the grey.

“
I still like Florence, but I mostly did it to get a reaction out of you. You can be quite argumentative when the mood takes you.”

I open my eyes. “I thought y-you did it because you were trying to teach me not to hide or something like that.”

Frank shrugs. “It was just a theory. You're always trying to hide and not attract any attention. I thought that by shortening your name you were furthering your ability to blend, to become nobody. Calling you Florence lured you out of your shell. And it worked in a way, because it made you argue with me, and that's always fun.”

“
It's just a name Frank, there's no n-n-need to be so deeply analytical about it.”

He smirks. “I can't help it, when it comes to you, I want to be deeply analytical about most things.” The way he says “deeply analytical” in such a husky tone makes me shiver.

Our eyes remain connected for a few moments before I manage to pull my gaze away. I don't know how I'm going to sleep in the same bed with him tonight - and just sleep.

I finally decide that a light shade of sky blue might be the best way to go about replacing the grey. Each colour has a specific meaning, but then there are so many different shades of each colour which I like to think of as “subcategory meanings”. For me, light sky blue is one of the most pure colours you can have. It washes away any toxic feelings and leaves you with nothing but fresh air.

Closing my eyes again, I flatten out my left hand, which is my dominant one, and I've found, the best for using in aura manipulation. I visualise a burst of sky blue, like a ball of vibrant paint, and swipe it up and down the grey, covering it all up until it's gone completely. Suddenly, new air fills my lungs and there's no anxiety clogging up my throat any more.

The letters that I tend to stammer most on are “s” and “y”, so I decide to test out if the experiment works with some words beginning with these letters.

“
You, yellow, yesterday, young, star, special, sad, splendid,” all of them spill from my lips without a single mistake. I gasp and cover my mouth with both hands.

Frank grins and comes over to stand behind me. “I take it my idea worked then,” he says, slipping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“
It did, thank you,” I beam up at him and give his arm a little squeeze in appreciation.

Frank's eyes are focused on both of our reflections in the mirror. He moves his head a fraction so that his lips brush my neck. “You are adorable,” he mumbles into my skin before guiding me back to the bed. I fall onto the mattress and Frank leans over me with his hands braced on either side of my body. Then he takes both of my hands into his and lifts them up over my head, pressing them down into the mattress.

“
Can I just kiss you for a while?” he asks, his breathing slightly ragged.

Instead of answering him, I press my lips to his and we lose ourselves in each other...for a while. Later on I finish my homework, change into some pyjamas and slip beneath the covers with Frank, who has decided to be a gentleman by keeping his t-shirt and boxer shorts on.

I tie my hair up in a bun and Frank turns off the lights, which makes the room suddenly feel ten times smaller. I shift over onto my side, savouring the softness of Frank's pillow. He's still sitting on the edge of the bed. He stays like that for a couple of heartbeats, as though making a decision. Then he lays down behind me and puts his arms around my waist.

There's quiet for a minute until I ask, “Frank, have you had many girlfriends?” I don't know where I get the courage to say this, the words just seem to spill from my lips without much conscious thought.

Frank laughs, and I can feel his breathing on the back of my neck.

“
A few,” he answers.

“
Oh.”

His hand travels over the outside of my thigh. “None like you though, honey.”

“
Is that a good or a bad thing?”

I can feel Frank laughing still, his chest moving up and down against my back. “That's a very, very good thing Flo. With the way I grew up, I had a lot of experiences young that probably should have been kept for when I got older.”

It takes me a moment to realise what he's referring to here, and it causes me to swallow hard, my saliva feeling like a rough lump in my throat. “So you've had sex then?” I thank God that I don't stammer on the question, that would have only made it more embarrassing.

“
Yes,” Frank answers, and even though I'm not facing him I can tell that he's smiling.

“
I haven't, just so you know.”

“
I know that Flo,” he says, his hand still on my thigh, tracing up and down.

My brow furrows at his answer. “How do you know?”

“
I can just tell, actually I can tell with most people. There's something in the way people carry themselves and react to things that gives them away.”

At this I turn around to look at him, intrigued. “Really? I'm fascinated, tell me more.”

Frank makes eye contact with me, his expression showing his amusement. “Okay, well, to take
you
as an example, I can tell because you tend to avoid taking part in conversations when sex is being discussed. Also, you'll look anywhere but at the people who are discussing it. You're shy, and shy people tend to lose their virginity when they're older,” his voice softens now. “When I touch you sometimes you'll shiver, go bright red and let your hair hang over your face.”

I let out a long sigh. “That's terrible, I didn't realise I was so transparent.”

“
I like it, it makes you seem kind of innocent but mysterious at the same time.”

“
Pervert,” I shove him a little, but he catches my hand and pulls me closer to him.

“
Only with you,” he grins and kisses me once gently.

“
So tell me about some other people we know.” I urge him, wanting a sneak peek into Frank's mind and how he perceives things.

Frank gives me a thoughtful look, which I can just about make out now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark room.

“
Well,” he begins, “Alex has clearly had a few ladies in the past, but I'd know that anyway because I've been there when he's gotten with them. But even if I hadn't been, I'd still be able to tell because he's confident but not overly so, he carries himself with purpose and a sort of comfort in his own skin. On the other hand you have someone like Josh who'll project a confident, self-assured persona to the point of coming across as cocky. He'll brag about all the girls he's been with when in reality he's probably had sex once or twice, three times tops.”

I laugh at that and nod for him to go on, enjoying his observations. Frank can be sort of silent and reserved at times, so you can never tell what he's truly thinking about.

“
Your friend Caroline is definitely inexperienced, but it's not something she's ashamed of, she's just waiting until the time is right. She doesn't bow to peer pressure in the way a lot of girls her age do, but she still has insecurities like everyone else.”

“
What about Ingrid?” I ask, curious as to what her story is. For me, Ingrid's aura shows a mixture of self-centred vanity mixed in with vulnerability and a pinch of low self-esteem.

Frank rubs a hand over his jaw. “Ingrid is your typical little rich girl. She's so desperate to be loved that she'll give it up to anyone and will continue the pattern because even though the guys she sleeps with don't love her, she gets off on feeling wanted, even on such a base level. Either she'll keep doing the same thing for the rest of her life until her looks fade, or she'll get lucky and come across a guy who actually sees past all the bitchy bullshit and just loves her for her. Or she'll marry someone for money. More than likely it comes down to not getting enough love from Daddy.” Frank smirks.

“
I wonder if she realises what a cliché she is,” I say ponderously. “You should become a psychologist when you're older, you make good observations,” I tell him.

“
Nah, I just know people,” he stops to smile at me. “We have that in common, you and me, we watch others and we learn what makes them tick. Most personalities become predictable after a while.”

“
I suppose so,” I reply past a yawn.

Frank cuddles me close to him. “Come on, let's get some sleep. School in the morning and all that shit.”

I close my eyes, savour Frank's warmth and drift off soon after.

In the morning I take a quick shower in Frank's en suite, while he remarks suggestively that we could save time if we had one together. I just about have a heart/panic attack at the thoughts of it. By the time we get downstairs Hayley and John have already left, Hayley for the book shop and John for his own job, Frank mentioned he works in construction. Something about his demon strength coming in handy for the heavy lifting required on building sites.

We head for school and the day passes quickly with me barely having spared a thought for the fact that Dad might have noticed I didn't come home last night. Not that he'd care for my well-being or anything, he'd just be pissed that he's not controlling my every movement like he normally does.

Frank drops me off at the house after school, all the while trying to convince me that I can come and stay at the farmhouse another night if I want to. He really doesn't like the idea of me living with Dad again. He hasn't said this in so many words, but I get the feeling he's not at all happy with the arrangement. I'm not happy with it either, but I just can't see myself saddling John and Hayley with another teenager to take care of. I'll be eighteen soon anyway, another two months and then I'm officially my own person.

Frank takes my hand into his and kisses me deeply as I leave the van, while Alex makes smooching noises from the back seat. Frank tells him to give it over unless he wants a kick in the balls. I stifle a laugh. They pull away from the driveway just as I turn my key in the front door.

Unfortunately, they're gone too soon to notice my dad yank me into the house by the scruff of the neck.

“
What do you think you're playing at Flo?” Dad demands, throwing me down onto the carpet in the living room.

“
I w-w-was at school,” I whisper, rubbing my neck where the fabric of my top has left friction marks on the skin. I peer up at him. I can smell alcohol, but it could very well be from last night, or just a residual scent from not washing for a few days. He doesn't look too drunk or high, just extremely ticked off. Deep in my gut I feel a mixture of fear and triumph at having defied him by staying away all night.
Take that
, my subconscious spits,
I'm not your prisoner any more
.

“
Yeah, that's a given, but where did you piss off to last night?”

“
I stayed at my friend Caroline's house, w-we had a s-sleep over.”

Dad laughs like he knows a secret. “You're a shit liar Flo, I know exactly where you were. I paid a visit to an old friend of mine yesterday, she gave me a full account of the company you've been keeping in this town.”

At this he slouches down onto a chair and folds his arms over his chest. I'm a little panicky to think that Dad has an old friend in Chesterport who has been keeping tabs on me. How creepy is that? And furthermore, who is this friend exactly? Some woman?

“
I saw your little boyfriend drop you off just now too, one of those foster home boys I've been told about, was it? Well you'll be putting an end to that, let me tell you. I'm not having you turn up pregnant one of these days after Handsome Dan has fucked off on you, looking for help from me to raise the little brat. Or better yet, money for an abortion.”

“
That won't happen,” I tell him, picking myself up from the ground and going over to sit on the edge of the couch.

“
Too right it won't, because you're not seeing him again. You can tell him tomorrow that you're “breaking up”, or whatever the hell they say these days,” Dad rubs his forehead and slips the cigarette that had been resting behind his ear between his fingers. He pulls a zippo out of his jeans and lights up.