The condensation from the milkshake got my hands all wet and cold but it was worth it. It had been a while since I'd had any junk food, and both of us had been crying, whoops. Dylan and I were sitting on top of the car, staring out at the view of the sunset from on top of a hill. There were a lot hills out here, and palm trees. The city light was starting to become more obvious as the sun went down. The sky was bright orange on the eastern horizon and dark purple on the west, stunning was an understatement.

"Hey can I ask you a more personal question?" Dylan asked.

He was looking down at his shoes. His feet where flopping back and forth unconsciously. He held his own milkshake between his legs like a little kid. Meaning he looked cute as heck.

"I mean it depends, but for you the answer's probably yes so go ahead." I shrugged.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, before you left, when you were angry at me, you said something about changing colors?"

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh yeah. I didn't mean to let that slip out."

"Well you don't ha-"

"No, it's fine. Knowing you, it will probably just bother you until the day you die." I chuckled.

Dylan shrugged. "You know me."

I watched his shoes clack together in amusement as I tried to pull together what I was going to say. Of course, Dylan would be the first person I ever talked about this with. The boy who wanted me along on all his crazy adventures. The boy who never failed to pull me out of my comfort zone. He was a man of first-times, there was no doubt about that.

"Um... so basically I do this thing where I organize things by color. It's mainly humans, but it works for other stuff too, like music or... any form of art really." I started.

Dylan's eye's widened. "So every person is a different color? Dude, that's amazing. How'd you manage to fit every type of personality into six colors?"

"Oh, there's not just six." I laughed dryly. "There's eighteen. There's three categories, saturated, pale, and dark. There's six colors in each."

"Huh." He seemed amazed. "What are you?"

"Saturated purple."

"What does that mean?"

I bit my lip and looked down. "It means I'm insecure, pretty much, and I'll lash out when I'm uncomfortable. I know I don't really seem like that but I also have anxiety so..."

I glanced over at him nervously. He blinked once and frowned. There was a distant look on his face as he pondered all of that.

"No, it fits. I've definitely gotten a face full of that, which was all my fault in the first place." His voice cracked and I couldn't see his face.

"Hey, don't so hard on yourself. I regretted leaving as soon as I got on that train." I insisted. "I'm glad you came after me."

He thumbed his straw. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

We sat there in silence for a moment, the he coughed. "Sorry I didn't mean to bring that up. Let's not talk about it, what color am I?"

"Oh, you're pale blue."

"And that means?"

"Well... it means you're kind of sad, but it's not the same a pale green sadness. It's like... you know you're going to get better but, in the meantime, things really suck. Pale green is just... hopelessness." I explained, stopping myself from rambling out of nervousness.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah, I am kind of sad, but you're so right I'm going to get better. We're taking control of our lives. We can do anything we want."

"See that's exactly what I mean." I agreed.

He smiled just a tad at me. It was small but this smile was different, it was at me, if was for me. I felt my chest burn accordingly. Oh my God, why are you like this. I hate crushing on people because it felt like five different viruses and strung along on a thin string with a wildly skipping heartbeat. It was the worlds mushiest popcorn tinsel. Only you didn't get to eat the popcorn later unless the feelings were reciprocated. Which sucked because I had already suffered a lot for this popcorn, darn it.

"Wait so what did you mean when you said I was 'changing colors'?" He asked, frowning in confusion.

"Oh." I rubbed my thumb against my fingers. "Okay there's a big difference between going out with your friends and getting drunk every once in a while and abusing substances every time you feel a panic attack coming on. Me personally? That kind of stuff will never be for me because I just... I like being in control. I obviously can't and won't force this point of view on anyone else but it changes how you act, and I've spent years using this color thing on people just so I can assume how they might act ahead of time. I can't... I don't have any rules set up for when you're all crazy, so I just... shut down I guess."

I rubbed my face. "I'm sorry that was a ramble."

Dylan sat there, looking very thoughtful. "I never thought about it like that before."

"Yeah, plus it feels like nails on a chalkboard, or what I would describe as ' saturated orange' when people slide into the worse aspects of another color. It's unnatural or something I don't know. The whole thing's kind of dumb." I admitted, swiping my thumb over my fingers nervously.

"It's not dumb." He insisted. "It's really cool how you do that."

"R-really?" I stammered.

He was looking at me and his brown eyes were oh-so pretty. I loved them. I loved his face. I want to kiss him someday. Right now, I just needed to calm down.

"Yeah!" He agreed. "It's good you're telling me all of this. It's important we can communicate."

I laughed gently at that.

"What?" he gave me a quizzical look.

"Nothing it's just, we sound like we're dating." I tried to laugh it off but I was almost positive the strain was obvious in my voice.

Dylan snorted. "Oh, shut up, it's not that unlikely."

"Ah come on." I leaned back on my elbows. "You've got plenty of other people besides me. What about the girl from the carnival? You got her number."

Dylan scoffed. "Oh please. I'm not into girls. I'd pretty much date anyone besides girls."

I sat up, the sentence repeated in my head a few times. "What? Then why did you even want to go on that date thing in the first place?"

He suddenly looked very embarrassed. "Uh... for you? You'd never done it before and I wanted to make sure you had fun."

I blushed again and didn't even know what to say for a few moments. "Oh, huh."

Dylan took a long loud sip on his milkshake. It was nothing compared to my own internal screaming. He didn't like girls? He would pretty date anyone besides girls? What? What? I'm a person who's not a girl. Does that mean I'm in the equation? Did he really mean it when he said it wasn't that unlikely we would get together? What was he implying?

"Um. Att?" He asked quietly.

"Y-yes?" I almost snapped a vertebra looking out at him.

"You look like you're going to fall over." He smiled but it was slightly concerned.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I assured, just dandy.

"Okay..." He squinted at me. "Well I bet you won't mind if I play you some tunes, will you?"

"Of course not."

My mouth said: yeah, this boy is just a little hyped up from his milkshake, my mind said: holy cow I still can't believe this boy I love is so talented. Dylan chucked his empty cup across into a nearby trashcan (talent) and leaned over to reach in the window and grab his ukulele. I stretched back and looked up at the sky and all the beautiful clouds. He started plucking something that was eerily familiar but different enough that it just made me love him more.

Somehow, we had managed to collide again and this time I knew we wouldn't ever leave.