The Story Of Us

Prologue

PROLOGUE

VIOLET - SIX YEARS AGO

“You can still change your mind.”

Mum has said this multiple times on the drive here, but as we approach the iron gates to the school, this is the first time I’ve actually considered it.

When the old building finally comes into view, it hits me that I’m going to a boarding school nearly an hour away from the only place I’ve ever called home.

She slows down as we pass through the gates and reaches the car park, looking left and right to find an empty space amongst the hubbub of slamming car doors and parents fussing over their children. We finally park up in a quiet corner, choosing to walk a further distance to the school instead of clamouring for a closer spot. When it takes her a few tries to get into the spot, I start to think that my mum might be as nervous as I am about this whole thing.

When I first told her I wanted to go to Coates Academy, of course, she was hesitant. It’s always been just the two of us for the past ten years, and she’s been protective of me that whole time. But there’s always been a little voice in the back of my mind that dreams of escaping, and I can’t help but think it’s one of the only traits I got from my dad, who did the same thing.

I don’t have any memories of him because he left before I even turned one. I wouldn’t change my relationship with my mum for the world, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve wanted more freedom and independence, and boarding school seemed like the right place for that. It took a couple of months to wear her down, but eventually, she gave in, and that’s how we ended up here now, sitting in the car facing the place I’ll call home for the next seven years.

“I want to go here. I think it’ll be a good place for me,” I tell her as she turns to face me. We’re a mirror image of each other with matching long hair, mine a slightly lighter brown than hers, and dark brown eyes. There are more lines on her face, though, deep smile lines that are permanently etched there, and a few on her forehead, too. My skin tone is slightly lighter than hers on account of my dad being White, but there’s no doubt that I’m her daughter.

She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it three times, something she’s done ever since I can remember, and I do the same to her. It’s become our silent way of checking in with each other: three to ask and three to confirm.

“Okay, meri jaan.” Her free hand comes up to stroke my hair, knocking the little butterfly clips she put in earlier out of place but fixing them before leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Let’s go in, then.”

After collecting my schedule and other paperwork from the office, Mum stayed to help me set up my room and we’re nearly finished. We put the sheets on the single bed together and then organised the rest of my things. I line up the books on my shelf above the desk as Mum clatters around in the ensuite bathroom, placing my toiletries in the shower and above the small shelf on the sink that sits under a mirror.

I sit on the bed as I wait for her to finish up, and as I look around the small room that will be mine for the next few years, I have to hold back tears. I wanted this- still want this -but reality seems to finally be hitting me. I don’t want my mum to go.

“Your bathroom is all done, meri jaan.”

She exits the bathroom and comes to sit next to me, wringing her hands together. I place mine over hers to stop her, tangling our fingers together instead and squeezing three times. She squeezes back, and when I look at her face, I can see she’s trying not to cry, too.

“I’ll call you every day, Mum.”

“I know. But I’ll still miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

We don’t speak for a while, our hands folding together as we try to process what this moment means. We’ve never been apart, and I know we’re both holding out until we’re alone to break down.

“Thank you for letting me do this.”

“Of course, meri jaan. I’ll always support you.”

She kisses the side of my head, and I lean on her for a second, soaking up her familiar smell before she leaves. She stands without saying anything, and I copy her, wrapping my arm around her waist as hers comes around my shoulder. We leave my room to go to her car, and when she gets in and closes the door behind her, I can feel the lump in my throat growing bigger.

She rolls the window down, taking my hand in hers once again, and we squeeze three times.

“I love you,” she says, and I can see the glassiness in her eyes.

“I love you, too.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile before pulling out and driving away.

When I get back to my room, I sit on my bed and cry.

It feels like all the emotions I’d been holding in while she was here are flooding out, a combination of nerves and excitement that has me completely overwhelmed. The fact that I won’t see her every day feels strange, and I had to push away the thoughts of calling her and asking her to come back and get me.

My stomach rumbles, and when I check the time, I realise I’ve missed the opening dinner for new students. If I go now, I might be able to get some of the leftovers, so I wash my face and hope that no one will be able to tell I’ve been crying.

As soon as I leave my room, a girl my height with short blonde hair drifts past me to the room next to mine. She enters it before popping her head out just a second later.

“Hi,” she says, moving out of her room and coming towards me.

“Hey.” My voice comes out a little hoarse from the crying, but I clear my throat, and she pretends not to notice.

“I’m Avery. Is that your room?”

“Yeah, I’m Violet. I missed dinner, so I was going to try and find something to eat.”

“You’re in luck. I grabbed some pizza to have later, but you can eat it if you want.” She gestures towards her room, telling me to follow her, and I do.

I glance around her room and see she hasn’t decorated much either. It’s the same layout as mine but flipped, with our beds on opposite walls and the bathroom on the same one. Avery goes to her desk and picks up a napkin with two slices of pizza on it, handing it to me with a smile.

I take it from her as I sit on the chair near her desk, and she takes a place opposite me on her bed.

“Were you crying?” she asks right as I bite down on the slice.

I chew quickly, trying to think of a lie to tell her, but she just smiles at me.

“It’s okay, I cried too. I’ll probably cry again tonight.”

I stifle a laugh at how straightforward she’s being, but it settles me, too.

“Yeah, that’s why I missed dinner.” I hold the pizza up. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a whole drawer full of snacks, so you can come here whenever you’re hungry.”

“I don’t have snacks, but I have books?” I offer, wanting to give her something in return for her kindness.

“What kind of books?”

I tell her about the small collection I’ve brought from home and we spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other. When I get back to my room, I find comfort in the realisation that I’ve just made my first friend.

It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours since my mum left, but she’s already called me maybe thirty times.

I’m walking towards the classroom where I’ll have homeroom for the next few years when I feel my phone vibrate in my blazer pocket. I don’t answer it. All my attention is focused on making sure I find the right classroom.

I make my way through the corridors, checking signs that have been aimed at new students to help them navigate, and finally find the room. My phone continues to vibrate in my pocket, and I take it out with a sigh, leaning against the wall opposite the room before finally answering it.

“Mum.” It comes out harsher than I intended. I know this has been hard for her, but the constant calls have started to become a headache, and I’m growing tired of constantly being checked up on.

“Did you find your classroom, Violet?”

“Yes, I’m standing outside it right now.”

Other students make their way inside, all of us wearing some combination of the uniform. We had a few options of what to wear, either a navy blazer or sweater with a white shirt and black or navy trousers or skirts to go with it. I settled for the sweater and skirt, liking the simplicity of the uniform compared to the colours I’d seen for other schools. A brochure for a school with lime green shirts comes to mind, and I consider myself lucky to have gotten into Coates.

“Okay, and your break is at 10:30, so I’ll call you again then.” I can hear the worry in her voice, but I know this isn’t healthy for either of us. I came here to gain some independence, and I can’t do that if she’s constantly calling me.

“You don’t have to. I’ll call you after school, okay?”

I fiddle with the hem of my skirt; it’s a little too long, reaching nearly past my knees, but I’ll grow into it. Through the open door, I see the kids who will be my classmates for the next few years. They’re already starting to talk to each other, little groups forming as they get to know one another while I’m standing outside on the phone with my mum.

“Okay, call me then, meri jaan. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

I lean my head against the wall, regretting how I spoke to her, but I know I can’t let these constant calls become a regular thing. Taking a deep breath, I push off the wall and enter the classroom I’ll sit in every morning for the next year. There are four rows of identical light brown desks and black chairs facing the front of the classroom where a whiteboard displays “Welcome to Coates, Year 7!” Tall windows run along one entire side of the room, the early morning sunlight brightening the room enough that the overhead lights haven’t been switched on.

The other students walk around as they find their seats, but there doesn’t seem to be any order to it. I make my way through the gaps in the desks towards the back of the room, taking a seat next to the window. The desk next to my claimed one is empty, so I decide to save it for Avery .

I scan the room to see what the other students are doing as I wait for her to arrive. Some are perched on desks with their shoes on the chairs as they talk to the person next to them who is actually sitting on the chair. Some are leaning against the desks, not fully committing to claiming a seat yet as they wait for their friends to enter. A lot of the students all went to the same primary school that isn’t too far from here, so coming to Coates was a natural next step for schooling.

My eyes drift back to the door right as Avery enters, blue eyes meeting mine as she smiles at me and makes her way through the desks.

“First day, and I’m already waking up late.” She huffs out a breath of air as she sits down, blonde bangs flying upwards before she pats them back down. “I don’t know why I decided to cut my hair before I came here.”

“It looks cute! There’s some fun styles you can do with it, too. I can teach you if you want.”

“I would love that. I really like how you did it today.”

Avery reaches out to touch the two small braids decorated with butterfly clips that are tied like a crown at the back of my head.

“When your hair gets a bit longer, I’ll do it like this for you.”

She smiles, and we continue chatting until our attention is drawn to the door by a clapping sound.

“Hello, Year 7. My name is Mrs. Harper, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for the next year.” The smile on her face is bright, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as she looks around the room at all of us and goes on to explain more about the school and the rules and expectations she has .

“Now that boring stuff is out of the way, we’re going to do a little icebreaker to get you all moving around and talking to each other. When I say so, I want you all to stand up and mingle with each other, and your goal is to find out each other’s birthdays.”

Avery nudges my arm and whispers hers to me, January 21, and I commit it to memory as I tell her mine.

“After you’ve spoken to a few people, I’d like you to start lining up at the front of the room in order of your birthdays from September to August. This is all just a bit of fun, so don’t be too nervous about talking to anyone! You’re all going to spend the next few years together, so it’s good to start getting to know each other.”

She finishes her explanation and then tells us all to stand up. I get up first, and Avery groans before placing her hands on the desk and pushing herself up. She grumbles under her breath about being tired and that she shouldn’t be expected to do physical activity this early in the day.

Avery links her arm through mine, and we both look around the classroom to figure out who we can talk to first. She points towards the corner opposite us, where a group of two boys and two girls are standing, and suggests we go to them first.

They’re all around the same height, and the two boys stand next to each other. One has fair skin, dark brown hair, and round glasses, while the other has dark blond hair. The two girls are in front of them. The shortest one has long light blonde hair, and the other has sleek black hair tied in a ponytail.

“Hi, I’m Avery,” she says as we approach them, all four of them stopping their conversation and turning to look at us. “And this is Violet.” I give them all a small wave, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward.

“Hi. When are your birthdays?” I ask, deciding to just get the conversation over and done with.

“We already know each other’s birthdays. We’re just waiting for everyone else to start lining up.” The blonde girl replies in a monotone voice. She doesn’t look too impressed that we’ve come over to talk to her and her friends, so I start nudging Avery so that we can move on to someone else, but she just unlinks our arms.

“Don’t mind Olivia.” The boy with dark hair and glasses steps forward, coming closer to us. He has a smile on his face that doesn’t match the rest of his group. “I think she’s just tired this morning.”

The blonde girl, Olivia, rolls her eyes at his words and stands with her arms crossed, and it seems she’s fully intent on not speaking to us any more than she has to. The boy gives me another quick smile before moving to stand beside me so he can face the rest of the group like we are.

“I’ll introduce us all. You’ve already met Olivia. She can be a bit rude sometimes when she hasn’t slept, but she’s usually okay.” He points to the girl standing next to her. “That’s Jinhee. She moved here from Korea in Year 4 and has been stuck with us ever since.”

She smiles at us, her hand coming up in a quick wave that we mirror.

“And next to her, we have Lucas.” He leans closer to me, covering his mouth with his hand as he whispers in my ear. “He’s my best friend, but don’t tell him I told you that. He already has a big head.” I stifle a laugh as I nod my head. Avery elbows me to find out what he said, but I just shake my head at her. The boy grins at me once more before he goes back to stand with his group, and I can’t help but smile back.

“And last, but most certainly not least, I’m Isaac. Lovely to meet you, Violet.”

The smile is still on his face, and now that he’s standing right in front of me, I realise he has dimples.

“Nice to meet you all. Thanks, Isaac.” He dips his head in a slight nod. “So when are your birthdays? Avery’s is January 21, and mine is July 9.”

“No way!” Isaac steps closer to me again, his eyebrows raised as he points a finger at me. “Mine is July 9, too. What a fun coincidence. You can just stay next to me then. Olivia is February 19, Jinhee is November 11, and Lucas is April 21.” He looks to the front of the classroom, and I follow his gaze, seeing that other students have already started lining up.

“Shall we go line up?” I ask, and we all start walking to the front of the room to join everyone else. Isaac comes to stand next to me as we make our way forward, and we watch as our friends find their places in line before finding ours.

“Wait, what time were you born?” he asks as soon as we get in line.

“What?”

“One of us has to be older, so the younger one should go in the line first.”

“Oh, right. I was born at night, at nine I think. My mum says it was just after sunset, so I’m probably younger than you.” I step around him and move to his left as he moves to my right.

“I was born at sunrise,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder and grinning. “Sunrise and sunset. Another coincidence.”

“Okay, I think everyone’s in order now,” Mrs. Harper says before I can reply to Isaac. “I’m sure you’ve all spoken to each other but let’s go down the line and say our name and birthday so we can check if the order is right.”

We all do as she says, Isaac and I waiting patiently as we’re near the end of the line, being two of the youngest in the class. Surprisingly, we managed to order ourselves without a mistake, and Mrs. Harper said that it had never happened before, so she was quite proud of us. She tells us to take our seats again, and I catch up with Avery as she gets to the desk before me and sits down, placing her head on the desk.

I take the chance while she’s not looking to try and catch a glimpse of Isaac again. It was fun talking to him, and it feels special that we have the same birthday. His desk is on the front row near the door to the classroom, so I can only see his profile.

But as if he can feel my gaze, he turns around and smiles at me.