Semantics (Start-up #1)

PROLOGUE

Having her whole life planned out for her from the moment of her conception had played all sorts of tricks on Violet’s mind.

Being born in Newport, Rhode Island, to a well-off family with a history, had meant that she was destined for greatness and was also expected to fall in line, which was the difficult balance people like Violet had to manage.

She both had to build upon the family legacy and set herself apart from it, but do that only in a way that would be approved by said family.

She’d done her best to achieve that balance, but it had been difficult.

For starters, Violet was gay, and that alone had been a whole thing.

Her not-exactly-conservative-but-in-no-way-liberal parents hadn’t been big fans of her not being their perfectly heterosexual daughter, and Violet had done her best to compensate for that disappointment because that was what it felt like to her: she had disappointed them by being gay, not marrying a man from their social circle, and not having two of his very white, polo-shirt-wearing, tennis-playing, future-Republican children who would, in turn, run the family business, marry someone of the opposite gender, and have their own two children to continue the cycle.

Yes, she could still get married. Yes, she could still have children.

Yes, they could still wear polo shirts, play tennis, and even marry someone of the opposite gender if that was what they wanted for themselves, but Violet knew that marrying a woman wasn’t something her parents had planned or wanted for her, which meant she had to work twice as hard to make things up to them, assuming she ever could.

Young Violet hadn’t consciously realized that that had been, at least in part, where her drive came from, but as she’d gotten older, she’d figured that out and planned to budget a lot of money for her much-needed therapy fund.

She’d been valedictorian at her very small and very expensive private school and had then gone on to attend Yale, which was the family school, through her junior year.

They even had a building named after the Russell family, and her grandfather had ensured that it wouldn’t be something frivolous, like an auditorium or cafeteria.

Then, for her senior year, wanting a little adventure before heading back home and going into her family-required MBA program, Violet had intentionally researched semester abroad programs. After experiencing very few parties in college and only joining the sorority her mother had been a part of because she was a legacy and they had to let her in as much as she had to join, she’d wanted something different than her usual, excessively boring life.

She’d chosen a semester in Amsterdam when she’d found the university that had a unique and challenging business program while also being in one of the biggest party towns in the world – or, at least, that was what she’d heard about it.

She’d been nervous about going, but she’d known it was the right thing to do for herself before she recommitted to the plan her family had had for her since that stick had turned blue.

Arriving at Schiphol airport, she was grateful that the school had another student from the university pick up the other students who would be joining her in the program, so she grabbed her bags from the carousel and found the woman holding up the sign scrolling through her phone.

“Hey,” someone greeted her when she joined the small group.

“Hey,” she replied, trying not to use her normal greeting, which would have been a more professional, ‘Hello,’ and going with a more age-appropriate greeting.

“I’m Arlowe. You’re in this computer science program, too?”

“No, I’m in the business program,” Violet replied and looked around frantically, worried that she’d missed where she was supposed to stand. “Is this the wrong group?”

“It’s all the same group. You’re good,” the woman with the sign said. “We’re still missing a couple of people, so we’ll wait for them and then go. You can use the bathroom now if you need to.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks,” Arlowe replied.

“I went on the plane before we landed,” she said.

“I’ve known you for, like, six seconds, and that does not surprise me somehow.” Arlowe chuckled. “Will you watch my bags…”

Violet realized, when Arlowe paused and looked at her expectantly, that she still hadn’t given her her name.

“Oh. Violet. Violet Russell.”

“Nice to meet you. Will you watch my bags, Violet Russell?”

“Sure,” she replied.

“Am I late?” another female student hurried up to them and asked the disinterested woman with the sign.

“Nope. On time. You are?”

“Enya Callaghan.”

“Enya?” the sign woman asked with a curious eyebrow.

“My family is very Irish,” Enya replied.

“Great,” the woman stated and looked back down at her phone.

“Hi. I’m Violet. Business program. You?”

“Oh, hi. Enya. Linguistics.”

“Linguistics?”

“Yeah. I have always loved languages, and, it turns out, I’m pretty good at them, so I’m majoring in linguistics.”

“Not a specific language?”

“Kind of hard to do that when I tested out of all of the ones my university offers and a few more on top of that.”

“Really?” Violet asked.

“Yup.” Enya nodded. “Besides, linguistics is the science of languages, so it’s a good place to start learning.”

“What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“I’ll probably be a translator somewhere.”

“Probably?” Violet asked.

“Yeah. I don’t know for sure yet.”

“Wow,” Violet replied.

She had no clue what that was like. She’d known what she was going to do since she’d had her first cogent thought, or at least, that was what it had felt like to her, anyway.

“Hi. I’m Sarai,” another woman said to the student with a sign. “I’m in the right place, yeah?”

“Sarai Kaplan? Yeah, I’ve got you,” the woman replied. “Okay, that’s all of you, so we’re just waiting on the one who went to the bathroom, and we can head to the shuttle. Anyone still need to get a bag or anything?”

All nine of the students in their group, sans Arlowe, the student whom she’d met first, shook their heads, and Violet tried to imagine what programs the others might be in.

Sarai was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses and was a snappy dresser, as Violet’s grandmother would say.

She had on a business suit with short heels, and it wasn’t at all wrinkled, which told Violet that she’d hung it up on the plane and had probably put it on in one of the bathrooms. Enya was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants with what looked like the airplane slippers that they issued in business or maybe first-class, which was an interesting combination, and when Arlowe reappeared, Violet took stock of her clothing choices as well.

Arlowe was in a pair of worn jeans with holes in the knees and a zip-up hoodie.

Her long, black hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her eyes were a shade of gray that Violet hadn’t ever seen before.

“All right. So, we’ve got fifty students overall in the semester abroad program.

My name is Colby. I’m an American as well and here for my master’s program.

I’ve been living in Amsterdam – or, rather, outside of it – for two years now, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask me.

You’ll all be living in the dorms, and I’m there, too, so I’ll be around.

For now, we’ll get you all checked in there, give you some time to settle in, and tomorrow morning, we’ll meet in the multipurpose room to go over any details you need and answer questions you have for your first week.

You’re mostly in different programs, but the programs are more or less run the same way, so most of what we talk about will apply to all of you. Are we ready?”

No one said anything, but they all nodded.

Then, they were walked out of the airport and into a waiting shuttle bus that took them more around the city than through it and to their campus, which would be Violet’s home for the next five months.

As she watched what she could see of the city pass her by, she couldn’t help but feel the excitement and anticipation.

She was in the Netherlands. She was going to school there, yes, but she was going to have a good time, too.

She’d left her girlfriend at home, but they could do long-distance for a few months, and she could visit Violet at least once or twice as well.

Violet had no plans of doing anything to risk ruining her relationship, but other than that, she wanted to go a little wild, drink in some tourist bars, and maybe even try weed for the first time.

She’d be safe, yes, but she’d also have fun.

That had been her plan, anyway. Then, orientation had started, and she had met Stella Ross. All thoughts of fun had been tossed out, and Violet had put on her game face.

◆◆◆

“I cannot believe she’s here… She knows I hang out here,” she said five months later.

“It’s a bar. She’s allowed to go to a bar, Vi,” Arlowe replied. “And we’re not here to talk about Stella fucking Ross. We’re here to help me with my broken heart.”

“You only have a broken heart because you’re refusing to try a long-distance relationship. Eline was into the idea,” Enya suggested.

“For now. But what happens when I’m there, and she’s here, and we can’t visit for, like, a year, and–”

“Arlowe, you would’ve figured it out. You didn’t have to dump the woman,” Sarai interjected.

“Stella knows we come here. Why couldn’t she just go to one of the five hundred other bars in Amsterdam?” Violet persisted.