The color blue reminds me of many things.

The ocean.

The sky.

Jake Danvers' deep blue eyes.

I was always noticing those eyes when I was younger.

In second grade, when Jake moved to our town and Teacher made him say a few words about himself to the class, those captivating eyes found me.

In fourth grade, when some of the other kids started making fun of me, those eyes always held pity and comfort. Jake always had a smile in those blue eyes of his, and I was jealous of that.

Then, in fifth grade, everything changed. The cute boy with the mesmerizing gaze ditched me, as though I had been little more than a piece of gum on his shoe. Fifth grade was the year Jake Danvers became Jacob Danvers, the new and improved popular version of my elementary crush.

I still tried my hardest to get him to notice me, to make him smile and laugh with me the way he always used to.

Now, his answer to my pleas was always the same.

"Marcie, I don't have time to talk right now!"

I tried it all. I tried my hardest to be paired with him in group assignments in class, accidentally, on purpose, found reasons to spy on him at recess.

Sure, I had other friends, but they weren't real and true friends. They were more of the type you giggled and joked with, the type you gossiped with and the sort you had to watch your secrets around.

Jake... Jacob Danvers was different.

Until he wasn't really that different any more.

Sixth grade was the first time my stepdad called me worthless, when I didn't bring him enough beer during one of his football games.

Mom didn't notice when the bruises started popping up, mainly because I was always quick to hide them. No one asked, but I wished they would. I wished one member of the baseball team, in particular, would pretend for a moment that we were once inseparable.

Freshman year of high school seemed to come out of nowhere, one moment I was twelve and the next I was fifteen and halfway through the teenage phase. I'd learned. I knew how to hide it all. I could hide the bruises, I could hide the depression and the lack of sleep, I could even hide the messages that kids from school sent me.

They called me all sorts of things.

Worthless.

Useless.

It didn't hurt, really. I had already heard it from my stepdad. I told myself it was okay. I was okay.

But I wasn't.

Sophomore year, the only friend I really had left turned on me. Her name was Tarah, and she spread a series of rumors about me that threatened every last ounce of my dignity.

That was it.

All of a sudden it wasn't worth it. I couldn't see another message, couldn't take another shouting match with my stepdad, couldn't stand to think about Jake Danvers and those damned blue eyes of his for another second.

So after school I walked to Keller's Ridge. I sat there, on the edge of the cliff, for what felt like years.

The sky was blue, not a cloud to be found. The water below me was as flawless as glass.

Of course, it was blue too.

Blue.

The color of the sky.

The color of the perfect river.

The exact shade of Jake Danvers' eyes.

Blue.

The way I always seemed to feel nowadays.

I stood up, looking at my white-and-green tennis shoes in the grass, my toes lined up perfectly with the edge of the cliff.

I would show them all. They tried to trample me, and I was tired of it. I would be free, finally escaping the years of bullying and let Downs.

I could take one more step, jump, be free.

"Marcie? Marcellina?"

The voice startled me, and I almost lost my balance. Two hands landed on my shoulders, spinning me around.

Those eyes were looking at me, a mixture of anger and relief flashing across their depths.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

That, I realized, was a good question.

"Jacob." I glared right back at him, "I could ask you the same thing. What were you thinking? Couldn't you see it's what I wanted? Why don't you let me jump?"

"Because, no matter what you might think of me, I could never let someone do that." He gazed down at me, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

"I had no idea." he whispered, "I left you all those years ago, thought I could do better, but I was never happy. Now I see you weren't either."

"You're too late." I didn't sound too sure of that when the words left my mouth, but I still felt as though I should say them. He deserved to know how much he had hurt me, how much I needed him when he wasn't there.

"It doesn't seem that way to me, Marcie." Jake grinned despite himself, "I tell you what, give me two weeks to prove to you that life is worth living, and then we can have this talk again."

I have never forgotten that day, the day Jake Danvers saved my life. The two of us have been married for nearly a year now, being twenty-three and fresh out of college. Every day, I thank god for Jake, for those blue eyes of his and his easygoing smile.

I look into those eyes every night, and each morning when I wake up.

The color blue reminds me of many things, but it will always most vividly remind me of the boy who saved my life.