Chapter Five

As soon as it looked like I was out of Lisa and Sharon's view (and Lisa's grilling questions), standing on my front porch as they drove away, I pulled out the crinkled napkin. Careful not to rip it, I opened it up.

        I'll be at the park around nine, bring your smokes, of course. See you then. -Trevor

        He had drawn a crooked smiley face before his name. I ran my fingers across the napkin, smoothing it out, smirking a little to myself. I then folded it neatly and gently worked it back into my pocket.

        Somewhere in my head, I was excited about seeing him again, no matter how much the conscious part of it tried to deny this. I was intrigued by this boy and his smile. Maybe that was what drew me to him. The mystery, the physical attraction, the spontaneity of it all. Everything I hated about my mother was drawing me to him. I wanted to hate him for it too, but it was proving very difficult. I wanted to erase these past two days and erase tonight before it even happened. Something in me wouldn't let that happen.

        Once I had decided that I couldn't avoid seeing him again, I fastened my pace to my room to get dressed, ignoring Adrian calling my name from the couch in the living room. Whatever it was he needed could wait. I had more important things to attend to.

        Upon walking into my room, I automatically raised my window and lit a smoke. My nerves were too out of whack. I had to come up with a plan to keep myself calm.

        “This is beyond ridiculous!”, I closed my eyes and sighed, talking to myself, “Violette! What the hell?! You hardly know this boy. You've got to be nuts.” Another long drag.

        A voice in my head was fighting with me.

        “Live a little.”, it said, “What would it hurt? Take some chances. Go with your gut. Don't think!”

        “Oh f**k off...”, I muttered.

        I opened my closet door. My jeans and other bottoms hung on one side, tops on the other.

        Thirty minutes, seven outfits and a clothing storm later, I had finally picked something out.

        A plain, lavender short-sleeved scoop neck and a pair of dark jeans with flip-flops. Simple enough. I brushed my hair out and pulled it back to it's original style; a low ponytail.

        I took a long, hard look in the mirror. Presentable, I decided was the correct term for my appearance. Not overdone, not under dressed.

        “Ridiculous.”, I muttered for a second time, “Absolutely ridiculous.”

        I glanced at the clock. It was still yet another forty-five minutes before nine. Damn. Damn damn damn. I wished time would speed by, but they were hopeless wishes.

        In all actuality, I swore it was going by even slower, like an hourglass with only one grain of sand falling at a time.

        Tonight was going to be different than our past two encounters, I decided. Maybe he was worth getting to know. I'd make an attempt to approach things differently. I'd never really thought about it before, but I hadn't been so open and welcoming to him. I'd been just the opposite. Time to show that I wasn't all brick wall and defenses, I did have a sliver of compassion and softness buried in there, somewhere.

        There was such conflict going on inside me. Words, fluttering through individual little phrases, like mental post-it notes, reminders that this was no where near the me I was so used to.

        He's still a stranger. You want to be like her now? Absurd! Lost your mind... Insane. Get your head out of your a*s. What do you really expect to happen?

        The latter of my thoughts were what really perplexed me. What did I expect? More importantly, what I was I hoping would – or wouldn't – happen? It was all such a mystery to me. I felt like I had completely lost sense of myself in the past two days, if that were possible. Everything was happening too fast for it to be real. None of this could be real.

        I looked up at the clock again. Time to go.

        Almost running down the stairs, I slowed down. I didn't want to break my neck.

        My mother was gone, not unusual of course. Adrian was sleeping on the couch, the remote still half in his hand. He had gotten stoned, no doubt, and fell asleep. There were some cookie wrappers and potato chip bags lying around for proof of such events.

        I couldn't resist.

        “Adrian?”, I nudged him, “Hey, Adrian...” I had to nudge him harder.

        “Ye..yeah...what?”, he mumbled.

        “Go get in your bed, you stoned a*s bum.”

        “Shut the hell up. I'm going.” He stumbled off the couch and walked toward the stairs, disappearing behind the doorway.

        On that note, I opened the door, making my way to the park.

        

 

        It didn't surprise me that he was there before I was. I didn't see him at first. Trevor was spread out on the ground, arms tucked away behind his head.

        “Violette,”, I could have sworn I heard a small element of surprise in his voice. I rolled my eyes to myself. And he thought he was sure of everything. Did he not think I would come? The thought made me frown a little. Maybe I had come across in a negative way, even more so than I thought.

        “Trevor. Hey. Didn't see you down there.”, I said, a little in surprise myself.

        “It's nice. The stars, I mean.”

        “What is it with you and stars anyway?”, I took a seat beside him.

        “I don't really know. They're just fascinating. Beautiful.”

        I sighed in agreement, looking up at all of them.

        “Why do you live by yourself? You're my age aren't you? Close at least...”, I looked over at him, waiting for the answers.

        “My mother was a good woman. My father, not so much a good man, although he once was. I'm eighteen, yeah.”, he looked back up at the night sky, unsure of something.

        A moment passed before he continued, “ She did all she could to take care of me, with what little we had left that he didn't gamble away or stick in lacy underwear. Things used to be like a picture perfect story for me, once upon a time, as it goes. Woman meets man, they marry, buy a house, pop out a kid, and on it goes. That was until she found out she had cancer. She didn't tell anyone for a long time. When she would go to the doctor, she'd make up other things. Going here or there, anywhere but her real destination.”

        I felt a large lump rise in my throat that I figured was a little broken piece of heart. I questioned how much more I could handle. It was all so sad.

        “ When my dad found out, he broke, badly. He was always 'working late'. My mom wasn't a dumb a*s though. She knew what he was doing the whole time, still acting like everything was normal. When she did die though, she took him right along with her.”        

        “Where is he?', I asked, in awe from the whole story.

        “S**t, off somewhere making a new family. He's a man with money, so naturally he sends me a check every month to keep quiet and not bother him. I guess I'm just another reminder of his once perfect life. She was his everything. He held her above even his own son. Which, I always assumed he had resented me. When she had me, I was on the top of the pyramid, pushing him down a notch. So, when she was gone, he decided there was nothing left here for him. I was a part of her, sure, but it's not the same.”

        I couldn't say anything. I wasn't even sure what to say, for that matter. What could you say? I just felt the strong urge to wrap my arms around his broken soul.

        Things were quiet for awhile, the wind rustling every now and then. I just sat and let everything he had told me seep in, trying to somehow fathom the pain in his heart, feeling little bits of it myself.

        “When did it happen?”, I managed to squeak out. I cleared my throat.

        “My mother finally stopped holding on last December. She should have been gone before then, but she was quite the stubborn woman. My father took off three months ago. That was all he could handle I guess.”

        “Oh.”, I was at a loss for words again. I picked at the grass by my feet.

        “I'm not sad. She deserved so much more than this world could've given her. She was a lot like a star, much too bright and wonderful to take in unless from a distance.”, he said, in that moment seeming so selfless.

        “You haven't said much about yourself, you know.”, Trevor added.

        “It's nothing too thrilling, I promise, but I suppose I can give it a shot.”

        “Well, shoot, in that case.”

        “My mother...she... well... things are difficult between us. I don't think she's all that aware of it though. I don't suppose she's aware of her children either. I guess she just lives in her own world, but if you take a look at this one, it makes sense.”, I said bitterly

        “I don't think I have a connection with her. I'm don't know if she has a connection with anyone or anything but her art. She's so... absorbed.”

        “What about her and your dad?”

        “My dad isn't around either. My mom and him were together until I was about six. My memories of him are vague.”

        “Did he run off?” He asked questions, sensing my hesitations.

        “No. Not exactly anyway. I don't know why he did it, but he did. The memories I do have of him aren't bad ones. I was his princess, he my hero. His sister, Paula, found him... I was seven. He was still coming to see me up until then.”, I wasn't sure if I could keep going.

        Trevor sat up and out of nowhere, he pulled my hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze, as if to tell I was strong enough to continue. What surprised me most was I didn't pull away, and somehow found the strength to continue.

        “My mom didn't talk about it, I guess she didn't really give a s**t. I always guessed he was something else that was disposable to her. Adrian, my brother, you could tell he was in pain. He didn't talk about it a whole lot, but I know that's why he does what he does now, always stoned, hardly being at home. My dad wasn't his biological dad, but you would have never have known otherwise. His father's never been in the picture. He was back when Adrian was very, very young, but he took off eventually. A drinker. Probably best for Adrian anyway. I've heard stories about him, from other family members, and I'm glad he's not in Adrian's life. I don't think it's fair that someone like that gets to live, while someone like my dad had to...go.”, I forced out the last word, choking on it. I knew this made no sense, my dad had taken his own life, but in a place where I made the rules, it wasn't fair.

        I felt tears well up in my eyes and fought them back. Trevor already knew too much as it was. I wasn't giving this stranger boy a complete view of my broken self, although the same thought as before persisted in that I could do this around him and everything would be completely fine.

        I couldn't bring myself to understand why he was not mourning over his own mother when I was still secretly grieving a decade later.

        Trevor was still silent, still gripping my hand. I pulled away finally, heaving out a sigh mixed with anger, grief, and exhaustion.

        This was too much. Way too much. I needed to go; to be alone. I stood up, dusting off my jeans, Trevor standing up with me.

        “I'll walk you home.”, he offered,

        “Sure.”

        Never in my life had I experienced this type of thing. I told him all the things I wouldn't even talk to myself about most of the time. He listened carefully to everything I had told him, taking it in word by word, just as I had done for him.

        In that moment, despite the little time that had accumulated between our acquaintances, we developed an unspoken bond. I could be sure I would be seeing him again, and more than that, I would want to continue seeing him. The voice fighting the blooming friendship faded away and I knew I would never hear from it again.

        

        

 

 

 

Author's Note

A draft, yet again. :)

Reviews

[Rose Kavanagh]

Very well-written for a draft and I love how, every chapter, Violette opens up a little more about her past. She is a really strong character, getting more and more real every time I read.
Your sub-characters are wonderful, as each one has something Violette doesn't- something she could learn to attain through her friends.
All in all, a great chapter. Can't wait to read more! =)

[Tracie Skarbo]

Great job on this....

I'm don't know if she has a connection with anyone or anything but her art. She's so... absorbed---just found this typo at the beginning of this sentence...

off to read more

[Bud]

Your drafts are near perfect. : >)

[**Cullenified77]

heyyy :)
i read it, FINALLY, and it was greeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaatttttttt :)
lol..and thanks for telling me abt this site, its greeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaattttt as well :)

[Adeline]

Again this is really good, and I feel bad for poor Trevor losing his mum.