The Origin of Blue

I'll sprinkle stories as travels unfold, but this is the very, very beginning:

I met Kelsey Blue from the passenger seat of her brother's car. 

It was the first of March. Blue crammed in and tapped my shoulder with a Samoa cookie, giving me a wink.

She announced, "I'm Kelsey Blue, like the Moody Blues," with a toothy smile, and I turned around to reciprocate an introduction. 

"I'm," I started.

"Skittles!" she blurted, indicating her brother previously informed her of my existence. 

I was Skittles, friend of Chad. She was Blue, little sister of Chad. Chad was Chad, the suave librarian I made paper crafts with. Those were our roles at the beginning. 

I knew her older brother fleetingly, and at that point still found him fascinating. 

Chad and I would often smoke hookah on his lawn, watch shadows of shade change under his spray-painted tree and take bets whether or not I could squeeze into his mini fridge, 

of course I could. 

Those were the easy days, before the windows-down-car-wash rendezvous or the long night drives circling Lighthouse Doughnuts.

Throughout the first few times I'd seen Chad outside of the library, he decided the name Skittles fit me, due to my "colorful demeanor and fun-sized packaging". 

Whatever my name was at that point, I was a semi-stranger with Somoa crumbs all over my face. And I was headed to their abode for the third time, with Chad as the sole reason for my visit.

That afternoon, he fell asleep on the sofa and Kelsey suggested we wake him with a pot and a spoon. 

"Excellent," I agreed, happy to know Chad's sense of humor ran in the family. 

While we inspected potential kitchen instruments, Kelsey got to talking about her love for all things Neil Gaiman and gothic. She was pretty hilarious. Told a hell of a story.

Her words, unlike Chad's, were less-calculated. They flowed with ease between her light-hearted laughter. She didn't give a damn if she sounded outrageous. Blue could rock the shock value. 

Kelsey insisted on finding a favorite Gaiman excerpt, most likely hidden somewhere on her floor, and I  crouched down beside her to tear through the heaps of exciting things eventually leading to a forgotten beige, bird-seed-sprinkled carpet. The bottom took a while to reach. 

I could sense a fondness for Kelsey blossoming somewhere between Chad's nap and Blue's show-and-tell of her solved Rubik's Cubes. She threw so many facts and puzzles at me I'd been left dizzy, in need of a second explanation. She knew her stuff.

While maintaining our mission to seek this Gaiman excerpt, we found brilliant leather boots, trench coats and fishnets, all of which Blue insisted I try on.

She said I ought to get in touch with my "Rocky Horror Picture Show" side. 

I hadn't heard of Rocky back then, but she assured me one day we'd see the midnight showing.

What the hell, I figured. I gave in. 

I remember, when I pulled her striped black and pink top over my head, there was a hint of vanilla, dust and bird seed to her room that clung to the fabric. It made me kind of sneezy but was also oddly comforting. This was Kelsey's room's scent. 

I got the shirt past my shoulders and slid into the rest of her selected wardrobe.

She said the outfit looked fantastic. 

I looked in the mirror and her trench coat swallowed me. Her shirt was laughably saggy, displaying that the previous garment-wearer had far larger a' bosom than I, and her boots were upwards of two sizes too big, slumping with every step I took. She was taller than me too, with a soft, classic structure. I was short, flimsy, fun-sized. At 4'11 at the time, I still managed to wiggle into the children's clothing department.

Nonetheless, we pranced around the living room to see if I could manage walking. I couldn't. 

Kelsey demonstrated how the boots ought to be strutted, and I swayed my way to the spoons and pots to wake Chad before changing. 

He got a kick out of the ordeal from what I remember, but Blue always had the better chuckle. I couldn't help comparing. When she laughed, her head fell back and her smile took over so much of her face that her eyes shrunk to tiny, giddy lines. Chad's smile was self-assured, guarded in comparison.

However, Chad's grin I saw less and less of as I appeared at their doorstep time and again for Blue, rather than him. But that didn't matter to me, for I picked the laugh that lingered. 

Kelsey and I, from then on, were inseparable.