15. Violet
VIOLET
After I’ve recovered from the flu that nearly killed me, I focus on nothing but my design for Penelope for the rest of the week.
I must listen to her album a hundred times as I sketch and drape fabric until I finally come up with an idea.
By Saturday, I’ve constructed my design and am obsessing over the length.
I like the movement of a long dress—the silhouette and the way it billows behind you as you walk.
Most performers stick with short and skin-tight while on stage because it’s easier to dance.
I design with that knowledge, but it doesn’t feel like enough, so I add a detachable train that snaps around the waist and flows out behind the dress.
That evening, while I’m staring at the dress, trying to decide if I’ve gone too far, Jane and Dahlia return from their beach vacation.
“Hey,” I say, getting up from the middle of the floor in the living room to hug them. I have to step over several piles of fabric scraps and wadded-up pieces of paper.
“Hiiii.” Jane’s voice trails on as she glances around the room at the mess.
“It’s a lot, I know. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I saw your faces when you opened the door. I’ll clean it up.”
“It’s fine.” Dahlia laughs. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, much better.”
“For a girl that was sick all week, it looks like you’ve been busy. Is that the dress?”
“Sort of.” I trip on my way to the bust. “Maybe I should clean up first. Tell me about your trip.”
They do while I tidy the mess in the living room. When the floor is walkable again, I talk them through the dress I created for Penelope.
“Violet, it’s gorgeous.” Dahlia runs her hand along the skirt.
“It’s not too much?”
“A little risky, but I think this one is going to pay off for you.”
“What do you think, Jane?” While she isn’t a designer, she has a great eye for fashion.
“It’s gorg. Can I try it on?”
“Yes!” I’m dying to see it on a real person and Jane is a great model. She’s about the same height as Penelope and everything looks good on her tall, model-like frame.
Jane holds her hands above her head, and I carefully bring it down over her tank top.
After I get it adjusted with a couple of pins around her waist and shoulders, we both look to Dahlia for her reaction.
Her mouth is open, eyes wide, and a pit forms in my stomach.
“The train is too much, right? I was afraid of that. Maybe I can adjust the skirt length. I like the volume.” I make a move to lean down, so I can pin the fabric, but Dahlia reaches out and grips me by the elbow.
“Don’t. It’s perfect.”
“Are you sure?”
Her dumbstruck look pulls into a wide smile. She repeats, “It’s perfect.”
“I wanna see.” Jane shuffles into the bathroom a few feet away. She stands on her tiptoes and turns side to side.
“My boobs look great.” She grins down at her cleavage. “God, I’m so jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
She treks back out to the living room and sits on the edge of the couch next to Dahlia, and I take a seat on the other side of her.
“Penelope. She’s going to look killer in this, like she always does. Life isn’t fair.”
“She does always look fabulous,” Dahlia agrees. “But that’s because she has access to custom designs, hair stylists, and makeup artists, and probably anyone and anything else she wants.”
“Where is this coming from?” I ask. “It isn’t like you to be jealous. Not even of a celebrity.”
It’s true. Jane has the type of self-confidence that I thought was reserved for guys with porn-sized penises. She isn’t conceited, but she knows her talents and her best assets, and she makes no apologies about either. I really admire that about her.
“I’m just being silly. I think I might be hangry.”
“Well, there’s very little food in the house. I basically lived off takeout this whole week.” And grilled cheese. Gavin’s face flashes through my mind and gives my heart a little tug.
“Let’s go to the dining hall,” Dahlia suggests. “I’ve been craving those little pizza bagel bites all week.”
Jane laughs. “I took her to all the best restaurants I know, and what does she want?”
Dahlia and I join in, laughing with her. “Pizza bagel bites.”
My stomach growls. “That does sound good.”
Jane gets changed and the three of us walk to campus. It’s a ghost town. We only see maybe one or two people on our way. The dining hall is located in Ray dorm, and it’s a little more lively here, with people arriving back from break, hauling big laundry baskets and overnight bags into the dorms.
Only about half of the usual food stations are open tonight, but thankfully, one of those is our coveted pizza bagel bites.
We fill our plates full of them and make our way to our usual table. Only before we get there, Gavin steps in front of me.
I stop abruptly. Dahlia screeches behind me as she narrowly avoids running into my back.
“What the—?” Jane asks, and then she must see Gavin because she doesn’t finish her outburst.
“Violet. Hey.”
“Hi,” I manage to squeak out. Hating Gavin was as easy as breathing, but this weird non-hating, appreciative, almost friendly vibe between us the last time we hung out is downright awkward.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Fully recovered.”
His gaze flicks over my shoulder to my friends. “Did you finish your list of Austen movies?”
“I did.” I nod. “Congrats on the thing. The game or, uh, tournament.” Freaking eh, I can’t string together a sentence. “Congratulations on winning the tournament.”
I finally look into his eyes, which is definitely a mistake.
They soften as his mouth pulls into a killer smile. “Thanks, Vi.”
I push down the frantic energy bubbling up inside me and step around him.
“What the heck was that?” Dahlia whisper-screeches behind me.
I set my tray on the table and take a chair, all while avoiding eye contact with my friends. “Nothing. Just being polite.”
“Since when?”
I stick my tongue out at her, but she and Jane keep staring at me.
“Seriously, since when?” the latter asks, looking around the cafeteria. “He’s still looking at you, and not with the usual intense stare he usually sends your way.”
“It’s nothing.” My face heats.
“I know that look. Something happened.” Jane leans forward on both elbows and Dahlia mimics her. They know me too well and they’re not going to let this go.
“Friday night when I first got sick, I thought I had food poisoning. The delivery guy was pissed that he had to park so far away because of the party next door. Anyway, I went over and yelled at him.”
“You didn’t?!” Dahlia’s green eyes grow bigger.
I wince at the memory. “I did. I couldn’t find him downstairs or outside, so I went up to his room and walked in on him with a girl.”
Jane fights to hold back her laughter.
“That isn’t even the worst part. After I walked in and saw his make-out partner’s boobs, I tried to get out of there, but I was all feverish and slightly delusional. Anyway, I ran into his door, he caught up with me, I yelled at him, then puked on his chest.”
“Oh. My. Stars.” Jane punctuates each word and then lets her laughter free.
“It was horrifying, but I was too sick to care. I think he carried me home. And he stayed to make sure I was okay since everyone was gone. Anyway, it was no big deal, the end.”
I take a bite of my food, but my friends do not let me off that easily.
“He stayed, as in… for a few minutes?”
“All night,” I mumble around my food. “Or most of it anyway.”
“I am swooning,” Jane says, holding her hand over her heart. “Did he sleep in your bed?”
My body grows impossibly hotter.
“He did?!” Dahlia gasps.
“No, of course not.” I have no idea where he slept. Maybe downstairs? My face is on fire.
They both look downright disappointed. I hadn’t planned to tell them the rest, but for some reason, I find myself wanting to make sure they know how much he did for me.
“But we spent all of Saturday together. He brought a ton of medicine, made me food, and we watched old movies.”
“I thought hell would freeze over before the two of you played nice.” Jane finally leans back. Her gaze goes back to where she was watching Gavin. I peek over my shoulder to see him and Noah heading out. He meets my stare, and then I’m the one who looks away first.
“What does this mean? Are you two friends now? Are you going to give him another shot?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
I can tell they’re dissatisfied with my answer. And if I’m being completely honest, I’m a little dissatisfied with it too.