Chapter 18

 

Violet

 

“Oh my God, I think I’m going to die.” I breathe through my nose because the smell of the mat I’m lying on is more pungent than spoiled eggs left out in the sun on a hot, muggy day.

Seth is lying next to me on the mats, something he did after he declared he wasn’t a gym person either. Greyson, however, loves exercise, but I’m not too surprised, considering how cheery he was this morning. Me, I’m just about as cheery and as motivated as I was when Luke asked me to go to the gym with him. Dressed in my tight shorts and an old t-tank top I totally look like I’m ready to workout, yet I don’t have a drop of sweat on me. Neither does Seth, sharing the same motivation as me. Callie is into the whole thing though, doing some sort of kickboxing class and Greyson is running on the treadmills. The only time I even think about moving is when a super poppy song starts playing from the stereo and it makes me want to get up and break the speakers.

Nope, I’m not a morning person, something I’ve known for a while, but it’s been made clear to everyone that has been graced with my presence today.

“Give me some of your coffee,” Seth playfully demands, reaching over me to steal the iced-latte from my hand.

I swat his arm. “No way. Get your own damn coffee.”

He lets out a frustrated grunt as he lies back down on the mat. “Greyson wouldn’t let us stop to get one. He said we were running late and that it was my fault, therefore, I had to go without coffee.”

“Dude, he’s so hardcore,” I joke because Greyson is anything but that.

“Totally,” Seth agrees sarcastically.

Sighing, I sit up and offer Seth a sip of my latte. “But don’t drink it all or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

He shoots me a doubtful look as he takes the latte from my hand. “I highly doubt that. You may act like a badass, but you’re so not.”

I eye him over purposefully. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, fashionably dark jeans, and his hair is tousled and has these blondish highlights that look like he spends some time in a salon to get, but I know that’s not the case—that they’re au naturel. He looks very hipster today, which would be fine except we’re at the gym.

“Look who’s talking,” I say. “You look like you’re getting ready to go to a concert instead of going the gym.”

“Oh, speaking of concerts.” Seth takes a long sip of the latte then hands it back to me. “There’s an awesome one going on tonight at The Silver Moon Grill. No one huge or anything, but there’s a pretty good lineup. Plus, it’s freaking Halloween and it has a theme and everything. You should come.”

I look at him suspiciously. “Did Luke tell you to invite me?” He seemed so set on getting me out of the house more that I have to wonder.

He looks lost. “No… I haven’t even told him about it.” He pauses. “Why would you ask that?”

I shrug, sipping the latte. “It’s not like you’ve invite me to hangout or anything. You only started talking to me civilly a couple of months ago.” I wonder if it’s because he pities me with all the shit going on. Although, Seth doesn’t seem like the kind of person who pities people. He’s actually pretty blunt, which I can handle. However, this morning he’s been tiptoeing around me, probably because of what happened last night. If I were him I’d think about moving far away from with the girl who attracts the crazy. It’s not like I want him to; it just seems like it’d be safer and easier for him.

“And vice versa.” He leans back against the wall and stretches out his legs. “You’re just as much of a drama mama as me, honey.”

I set the latte down on the mat. “I prefer the term interesting and never boring.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I pause. “Why are you nice to me now, though?”

He shrugs again, staring at his shoes. “When I first met you, it seemed like you were a real bitch to Callie and kind of a whore, but after learning who you are, I realize my first observation was wrong.”

I’m curious what he thinks of me now, but not enough to ask.

Deciding to change the subject, I put my legs out, doing a lame attempt at the splits, figuring I can at least pretend like I’m getting warmed up. “Fine, if you really want me to go to the concert, I will. As long as it’s after the dinner with Luke’s dad and Trevor. And Luke will come with me.” I’m sure he will, though, since we promised to celebrate the shit out of holidays only a half an hour ago.

“It doesn’t start til nine,” Seth tells me. “And duh, I assumed you’d bring Luke with you. You two are attached at the hips.”

Even though it’s true, his observation still catches me off guard.

Lost in my thoughts, I stretch again, leaning forward into an awkward position. “God, why do people do this? My face is pretty much level with my vagina.”

Seth laughs. “Well, you’re choosing to do it, so maybe you’re enjoying it.”

I flip him the middle finger without lifting my head. “Ha. Ha. You caught me.” I stay in the same position, putting my hands on my legs and wrapping my fingers around my thighs.

“You know, I think I’m going to get a tat on the side of my thigh,” I say more to myself than anything. “Something new.” Yes, new would be good. Everything is old right now and connected to the past.

Suddenly a shadow casts across me. “What are you doing?” Luke asks, sounding like he’s out of breath.

“Oh, just watching Violet touch herself,” Seth answers amusedly. “And listening to her talk about self-infliction.”

“Huh?” Puzzlement floods Luke’s voice.

I roll my eyes at Seth as I sit up and Seth reciprocates my gesture with a smirk. “Nothing,” I say then glance up at a very shirtless, sweaty, and I’ll admit, sexy Luke. “I was just talking about getting a tattoo. That’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Where would you get it?” he asks curiously, still trying to catch his breath from the workout. When I trace my finger up the side of my thigh, all the way up to my hip, his heavy breathing grows quiet, maybe even stops. “That’d be a nice spot.” His voice is low, husky.

“You think so?” I ask, totally enjoying the fact that he’s turned on. Well, that and the fact that it’s a normal moment for us right now. It’s been a while and seems to be coming from out of nowhere, but I’m going to take it and grasp onto it with all the strength I have.

Luke nods, finally jerking his attention away from my hip and focusing on my eyes. “Definitely. And I’ll come with you when you get it.”

“I don’t need my hand held.” I bring my knees into my chest. “I know what’s up—it’s my fourth one.”

“Oh, I’m not going to hold your hand.” His gaze is sweltering to the point where I swear to God my skin starts to melt, but I can’t seem to look away. “That would be sexy as hell to watch.” His eyes drop to my thigh again.

I want to tell him about every tattoo I plan on getting, just to keep the skin-melting look on his face. But apparently, Seth doesn’t agree.

“Jesus, would you two let up with the eye-fucking?” Seth mutters.

Luke shoots Seth a harsh look then shakes his head before looking back at me. “Anyway, I just came to see what you two were up to and find out if everything was okay.” There’s an underlying meaning in his tone—he’s worried about how I acted last night and wants to see if I’m okay.

I nod, letting him know that I’m fine, but really, I have no clue what I’m feeling. Usually in these types of situations, I’d run to the nearest window and picture myself falling. Right before I hit the ground, I’d take my last breath. I really, really want to do it. Dreamt about it last night. Thought about the images repeatedly this morning, but between the choice I made to live and the promise I made that I’d try to stop, I’m not going to go anywhere.

Luke releases a stressed breath as he nods. “Okay, but if you need me, come get me.” He hitches a finger over his shoulder and points at one of the rooms. “Kayden and I are switching rooms.”

I frown as I get to my feet. “You’re not done yet?”

He grins at me amusedly. “We’ve been here for a half an hour.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “That’s a half an hour too long if you ask me.”

That gets him to laugh, even though I was being serious. “You’re cute.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the ass before walking off.

I turn to Seth and raise my eyebrow. “What am I? One of his football buddies now?”

Seth gives me a funny look. “I think you’re pretty much the opposite for him.”

“And what the hell’s the opposite of a football buddy?”

“I don’t know… his lover.” He grins deviously and waggles his eyebrows.

It strikes a nerve when I think about a couple of weeks ago and how Luke said he loved me. I have no idea what the fuck love is and still feel bad that I couldn’t say it back to him. I want to at least understand the emotional aspect, but I have yet to figure out how to.

Seth notices when my expression immediately plummets and he sits up with eagerness written all over his face. “Holy shit, he said it to you, hasn’t, he?” He scurries to his feet, eager to hear the gossip.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say uncomfortably. Then I scan the workout room, searching for a diversion. However, all that’s around are machines that look like torture devices and sweaty people I don’t know.

“Talk about what?” Greyson joins us from out of nowhere with sweat on his brow and in his hair. His shirt is damp too, yet he looks content with his tired sweatiness.

“Nothing, hence why I said I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell him, picking up my latte, ready to bail. I’ll tell Luke I had to run somewhere. Lie. Problem is, after last night I’m sure he’ll freak out, and I don’t want to do that to him.

“Luke told Violet that he loves her,” Seth announces, and I shoot him a dirty glare as he slaps his hand over his mouth. “Sorry. I’m a terrible liar.”

“What?” Greyson sounds more hurt than excited. He steps in front of me, blocking my path out of this place. “When did that happen?”

I pick at my purple fingernail polish. “I don’t know, like a couple of weeks ago.”

The hurt in his eyes magnifies. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrug, guilt burning in my chest. “Because there wasn’t much to tell.”

There’s a pause then he grabs my good arm and tugs me to a corner of the gym that smells worse than the mats. Seth calls out to him, but he ignores him.

“What happened?” Greyson asks, standing in front of me, so I’m kind of trapped in the corner. A corned cat, that’s what I am. And one that wants to run.

“He said” —I make air quotes— “‘I love you,’ but… I couldn’t say it back.”

“Yeah, okay.” A slow breath escapes his lips as he nods at something he must be thinking. “Couldn’t because you don’t love him? Or couldn’t because you just couldn’t say it back yet?”

I wish I could say the latter, that I was the kind of person capable of love and just need more time, but I honestly don’t know. “I’m not sure which one.”

He looks at me sadly. “Violet, I know love can be scary and everything, but it’s scary in that amazing, steal your breath, feels like you’re flying kind of way. You shouldn’t be afraid of it.”

“I’m not afraid of it.” My heart begins to do a panic dance inside my chest as emotions singe through my veins. “Just confused about what it is.”

I don’t want to have to say it—that I don’t even know what love is. That the last time I felt loved and truly loved someone was when I was five and my parents were still alive. Greyson knows enough about my past that he can perhaps figure this out on his own.

Please, please figure this out on your own so I don’t have to say it aloud.

I don’t know if he figures it out or not, but he steps back and drops it then we head back toward the mats.

My mind is swimming with too many emotions. I’ve been trying not to do it—to run off and seek a dangerous thrill in order to calm myself the fuck down—but it’s been two weeks. Two weeks of piled up emotions, heavy, painful emotions.

Run, Violet, run.

“Oh my God.” Greyson jerks me out of my thoughts as he motions me to follow him. “Come on. I have a great idea.”

I don’t want to follow him. I want to run out the front door that’s in my line of vision, so close. I just need to step toward it. But what happens when I get outside? What happens when I decide to dive into the water this time and I don’t make it out? Or what if I make it out and Preston is there and this time a crowd doesn’t show up?

“Hey, Violet.” The sound of a female’s voice forces me to turn my head away from the door. In my daze, I’ve managed to reach the mat area. Seth, Greyson, and Callie are all standing near me, like we’re at camp and attempting to form some sort of friendship circle. I feel like we should be holding hands and singing. Seriously.

I give Callie a tight smile. It’s not that I don’t like her, just that things are a little weird between us ever since we shared a dorm freshman year and she thought I was a prostitute. Really I was just selling drugs, but I let her believe that I was a whore because I’ve never really cared about what people thought of me. I was kind of mean to her sometimes. Although, for my own argument, it wasn’t just her I was rude to.

I’m about to bail, figuring I’ll let them do their thing and I can go do mine when Greyson says, “Callie, you should show Violet some of your kickboxing moves. I think it’d be good for her to let a little steam out.”

The idea seems funny to me—Callie teaching me kickboxing. She’s about four or five inches shorter than me, brown hair, blue eyes, thin—basically a little, tiny thing. Yeah, I’m thin myself, but I look rough around the edges. However, looks can be deceiving and I’m guessing from the way everyone is acting, Callie’s got some hidden badass kickboxing skills.

“Why does everyone think I have anger issues?” I ask, wondering if they all know about my twisted past and the issues going on between Luke and I. Just the news alone would give them details about the case, so I’m guessing they at least know my history. Maybe that’s why they think I have anger issues. Either that or Luke has told them stuff, but I doubt he’d do that to me, especially when he has his own secrets he doesn’t share with them.

“Um, because you do,” Seth says with an eye roll.

Callie shoots him a warning look. “Don’t be rude,” she says, like I’m something precious and can’t handle a little bluntness. I almost laugh at the idea, but restrain it, thinking about how I couldn’t handle it at therapy the other day.

“Yeah, well you do, too,” I tell Seth in a lame attempt to get the attention off me. Besides, I’ve seen Seth angry before, many, many times.

Seth rolls his eyes again. “Honey I have the exact opposite of anger issues.”

I fold my arms and give him a conniving look. “Oh yeah, tell that to the Silver Linings Playbook DVD.”

Greyson points a finger at him in aghast. “That was you?”

Seth scowls at me and I smile innocently back at him. “Hey, it was a total accident.” But he sighs as soon as he says it. “Okay, that’s a lie. But the damn thing wouldn’t play.”

“That was one of my favorites.” Greyson shakes his head. “And you broke it in half.”

“I’ll buy you a new one today. I promise,” Seth says and Greyson nods and lets it go. Then Seth turns to me. “You are paying for half of that for ratting me out,” he hisses, not really mad, just being a ‘drama mama’ as he put it earlier.

“No freaking way,” I retort. “I didn’t break the DVD. You did.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Seth replies. “If you kick the bag a few times, I’ll let it go. But they have to be badass ninja kicks.”

“Why does everyone keep pushing me to do this?” I ask. “Yeah, I have anger issues. So what? Kicking some damn bag isn’t going to do anything for me.”

“Oh, but it will,” Seth assures me while Greyson wanders back to a large boxing bag dangling from the ceiling. “I know these things. I took a psych class.”

“And I’ve taken three different psych classes,” I tell him. “So I know that that wasn’t mentioned in any of them.”

“Three different psych classes?” Seth gapes at me. “Really?”

I shrug as Greyson calls out, “Violet’s a badass when it comes to classes. Don’t let her looks and attitude fool you. She’s a smart girl.”

Wanting to get off that subject of me, I sidestep around Seth and walk up to the bag. “Fine, I’ll kick this damn thing a few times, but only if we can stop talking about me, my brain, and my anger issues.”

“Deal.” Greyson moves behind the bag and puts his hand on it to hold it in place. I don’t know why. Damn bag is big as hell. I’m sure I’m not going to be able make it budge.

“So what do I do exactly? Just kick it?”

“Yeah, but kind of turn to the side to begin with.” Callie comes up to me and surprises me by putting her hands on my hips and forcing me to shift to the side. Then she gives my hip a pat. “Pivot your hip and bring your leg up. You can also use these.” She grabs my arms and positions them in front of me. “You can even punch the bag, but probably not with this hand.” She taps my cast then steps back, giving me space. “Go ahead. Trust me, you’re going to feel a whole lot better.” She has this look on her face like she understands her words very well. Hell, maybe she does. Maybe hidden in that tiny body is a person who is raging with anger. Perhaps she has a messed up past too. God, maybe everyone does in their own way.

Giving them what they want, I do exactly what Callie said; pivot my hip and bring my leg up, slamming my foot against the bag. It doesn’t move, but I also barely kicked it.

“Oh, come on,” Greyson says disappointedly. “Show us that tough girl kick.”

I tolerate them, giving it a good hard kick. For the briefest moment, when my shoe collides with the bag, I do feel a twinge of relief from the emotional overload I was experiencing. I decide to kick it a couple more times and the feeling gets more intense.

I finally stop, breathing pretty hard. I don’t say anything, wiping the sweat from my brow, but Greyson gives me this I told you so look.

“You should do it with the other leg now,” Callie encourages. “And this time, try to think about something that will give you fuel.”

I arch my brows at her. “Fuel?”

“Yeah, you know, for the kicking,” she says simply, leaning down to grab her bottle of water beside her feet.

Figuring it won’t hurt anything, I turn to the other side and try to figure out what the hell she meant by fuel. Then something snaps inside me and I start kicking the crap out of that Goddamn bag. Last night, two weeks ago, fifteen years ago, they don’t feel so heavy inside me. Control. That’s what it is. I feel like I have more control over myself. Right now, in this moment, there is only me and this bag and this bag is everything—all my foster parents, Mira, Preston, all the guys who’ve copped feels, everyone who’s taken something from me.

When I finally stop, I’m gasping for air, my skin is drenched with sweat, and my heart is hammering inside my chest.

“I’m so tired,” I say, hunching over as I catch my breath.

“It’s called exercise,” Greyson teases me.

I’m too tired to retort with a good comeback, so I turn and smile tiredly. And it’s a real one, not my shiny, fake one I used on him the first few conversations we had. The same fake smile I used when I went to parties and dealt. The smile I used on everyone almost my entire life.

No, this one is real because at the moment, I feel like myself.

I feel like the real Violet, the version no one has ever known, including Preston. And that makes me want to find out more about her—about myself. It makes me want to try to be this girl all the time.

I just need to find a way to make that possible.