His fingers hovered over the buttons. He got through the first six, and stopped himself.

"Come on, Brooks, one more digit," he thought.

But he didn't press it. Instead he hung up the phone and stared at his bedroom floor. The clock changed from 11:27 to 11:28. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

His book of sketches lay across his bed. Black and white. Memories, terrors, and dreams. In his head these things didn't have color; it was only fitting to express that on paper.

Despite this, he wanted to add color. Ever since yesterday he'd been sketching things that could simply not remain colorless. Her personality called for vibrancy and beauty, something that simple black and white could not obtain. Yet all he had was a black and white sketch.

11:34. He picked up the phone again. Dial, dial, pause. Dial, gulp, dial, dial. Dial, hover, hover, dial. He contemplated hanging up after the first ring, the thought that she might have caller ID prevented him from doing so. Three more rings and he got and answer.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end said.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey, you. What are you doing up? Is it all that post try-out adrenaline?"

"That's kind of what I'm calling about. Wait, I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, unfortunately the only sleep I get is during Kwan's class."

"Oh, Nash, you know that's only going to perpetuate the vampire rumors."

Her voice tensed.

"No, because everything that goes on with us can stay between me and you."

She paused.

"So, try-outs, what's the big news? Is Jimmy Brooks headed for super-stardom?"

"I didn't do it." He waited for the big why not.

"Well, you have to do what your heart tells you. Did I really just say that? I am getting cornier by the minute. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just sick of things being so black and white. I was either Jimmy the Basketball Star or no one at all. All I want is to be somewhere in the middle. I wanted to prove to everyone I was okay again, but now I know I don't have to. It's enough for me to know. Dad and I had, you know, a talk. I don't think he understands yet, but at least he knows how I feel."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, that had to be tough. You did what was best for you, I'm proud of you. And I'm not just saying that, because I mean it, I really do. You have so many talents and you shouldn't have to be trapped in just one."

"El, you are the only one who doesn't make me feel like I'm a crazy person. So, thanks, for being supportive."

"I just know something special when I see it."

"Hey, do you think…" he trailed off.

"Do I think what?"

"That you could still sign me up for that art class?"

"Definitely, first thing after-school tomorrow."

"Okay, then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will, goodnight Jimmy."

"Hey El?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep."

"I'll see what I can do."

They hung up, both with a look of relief on their faces. Relieved that the conversation was over? No, relieved that it went so well. He dug through his dresser drawer, searching desperately for his chalk-pastels. When he opened the box, he smiled has he spotted the red and orange ones. He looked at his open sketch book and began to blend the two colors together, finally bringing his sketch of Ellie Nash to life.