12. Violet
12
VIOLET
“So I was talking to my brother yesterday.”
I freeze, my fingers all tangled in Izzy’s hair as I braid it for her in a complicated style she found online. Why is she bringing him up? We never really talk about him. Our friendship is completely separate from any relationship I might have had with Isaac. She knows we’re in the same class, but we’ve never given anyone any kind of inkling that there’s more than that to our relationship.
What if he’s told her about us? I don’t want to lose Izzy as a friend while I’m still trying to get over losing her brother. Izzy’s eyes flick up to mine in the mirror we’re both facing, and I run my fingers through her hair, getting rid of all the progress I made. She raises her eyebrows at me in question, considering I just spent the better part of fifteen minutes doing it.
“I messed it up. It’s easier to just try again.”
“Funny you should say that. That’s what I was talking to him about.”
He told her .
Isaac told her about us.
I pick up the hairbrush, running it through her hair as I try to stop my bottom lip from quivering.
“Izzy, whatever he told you -”
“You know he still has a crush on you, right?”
My hand stills again. A crush? Is that how he explained it to her? Something as small as that?
These past few weeks with Isaac, it’s like I’ve had a balloon in my chest. Every time he spoke to me and showed me some kindness, it inflated, filled with a small bit of hope that maybe last year was just a mistake and that with enough time, we could move on from it. Move on in what way, I’m not sure, but just move on to a place where we don’t have stifled conversations with each other and have to hide how we really feel.
Because I still like him.
As much as I don’t want to, it’s hard to get rid of the feelings that have consumed me for years now. But with what Izzy just said, it feels like the balloon has popped.
“I didn’t know that.” My mouth feels dry, and I don’t want this conversation to happen, especially not with someone like Izzy, who is important to both of us.
“He told me that he asked you out a while ago, but you said no.”
Oh.
He didn’t tell her. But why say anything at all, especially that? Izzy answers my question before I can even say it.
“I was talking about you yesterday and told him that you did my hair, but as soon as I mentioned your name, he got kind of upset. It happened on the first weekend back, too, so I asked what his deal was, and then he told me that you rejected him. And I completely get that he’s really annoying, but I don’t know, I think maybe you should give him another chance.”
She finishes her rambling and gives me a toothy grin, seeming so proud of herself. I can’t think of a way to respond that won’t have me feeling completely exposed because hearing that he’s been upset to the point where even just hearing my name has him acting out feels so strange.
He broke up with me, and it might seem like he’s regretting it now, but what if I do give him another chance, and it happens all over again? I don’t think I can handle losing him twice when it already gutted me the first time.
“Don’t tell him I told you any of this because I don’t want him to get a big head, but he’s really not that bad all the time.” Izzy turns in her seat to face me, and I finally put the brush down, pressing my hands together to try and smooth out the indents that are now there from how tightly I was gripping it.
“He always lets me pick the music when we drive, and he gets me out of boring lunch parties with our parents, and he always has snacks for me, and…”
I don’t hear the rest of what she says, memories flashing through my mind.
ONE YEAR AGO
I hug my stomach with my free hand hoping that the sound of it rumbling wasn’t too loud, but of course, Isaac heard it. How embarrassing. It’s like he’s hyper-tuned into everything I do. Any time I’m even a tiny bit out of sorts, he can figure it out instantly. His head shoots up as soon as my stomach starts eating itself again, and he frowns at me.
“Did you not eat today?” He puts his pen down and pushes his work aside, reaching his hand across the table to ask for mine.
I give it to him, and he rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. The first time he ever held my hand like this, I felt like my whole body was on fire like every nerve in my body was alight and focused in on the place where his thumb was. He does it so often now that I thought the feeling would go away, but it still hasn’t, and I never want it to.
“I had breakfast, but I skipped lunch because Izzy needed my help with something.”
He smiles at that, a lazy one that seems so effortless with just one side of his mouth tipped up, but it has my heart skipping a beat every time I see it. He shuffles his chair closer to the desk between us, pressing his torso against it as if he can go through it to reach me.
“Did she not eat either? I don’t want both of my girls going hungry.”
My girls.
We’ve been dating for a few months now, but hearing Isaac call me his has me all over the place. I can’t believe this is really happening—that we’re together now after so many years of liking him.
“Don’t worry, I made sure she ate.”
“You should take care of yourself too, you know.” I pout at him, and he leans over the desk to pinch my cheek. I push his hand away as I pretend to scowl at him. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll take care of you. ”
He leans back, letting go of my hand, and I miss the weight of it as soon as it’s gone. Isaac reaches into his bag and pulls out a small lunchbox, placing it on the desk between us before he opens it. It’s filled with all of my favourite snacks.
“Eat. You deserve a break anyway.”
He slides my work to one side of the desk and then pushes the lunchbox closer to me.
He takes out the orange that’s resting in between a small bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and jelly beans and starts peeling it. I start picking at the snacks and wonder when he took the time to put all this together.
His fingers move deftly, peeling the orange in large strips and collecting them in a small pile next to his discarded pen. Then he starts picking off the stringy white bits and adding them to the pile so it looks like a web. Any time I eat oranges in front of him, I spend so much time peeling them until they’re perfectly clear of the white parts, so for him to notice that and to do it for me has my stomach doing backflips.
When he’s finished, and there’s not a speck of white on it at all, he halves the orange, passing one over to me. Our fingers brush as I take it from him, and even though we’ve just held hands and have been for months now, every touch still feels heightened, still sends butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this feeling.
Isaac waits for me to eat my half first, only eating two pieces of his before offering the other four segments to me. I take it from him but split it in half again, leaving two for each of us. We haven’t said a word to each other, but I don’t think we need to speak to communicate anymore. Every little thing he does for me lets me know how he feels about me, and I hope he understands the same from me, too.
We make our way through the rest of the snacks he’s packed, and even though I try to split things evenly, Isaac insists on me having more than him. Once we’re finished, he takes my hand in his again, continuing his pattern of circles on the back.
Over the past few months, I’ve realised Isaac’s love language might be physical touch. He always wants to hold my hand, or if we’re sitting next to each other, his leg is always pressed against mine. If we walk past each other in the hallway when we’re with our friends, he’ll reach out just so our fingers can graze for the slightest second. Whenever we hug, he never wants to be the one to let go first, always holding on tight to me. When I try to back away, he just clings tighter until I’m laughing so much I can’t breathe, and he has to let me go. Even then, he immediately takes my hand in his. He makes me feel cherished like I’m something precious, and I never want this feeling to end.
“Text me next time you miss a meal, and I’ll bring you something,” he says in a fake stern voice that just has me laughing.
I lean over the table to kiss his cheek, and his returning smile makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
“So that’s why I think you should give him another chance.”
I’m snapped back into the present, hot tears pooling in my eyes at the memory. It hits me that he won’t ever touch me like that again, won’t ever pack a lunch box full of my favourite snacks just in case I get hungry.
I turn around, facing away from Izzy so I can collect myself. I can’t cry in front of her because then I would have to explain why it’s making me so emotional to hear everything that makes her brother a great person.
Because he is great. He’s more than great. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. As much as I want to deny it and think the worst of him, I’m struggling to because apart from that day, he’s never been anything but wonderful to me. Even before we started dating, he was kind and considerate - that’s why I started falling for him in the first place. It’s also why I think I still haven’t gotten over him. Although I’ve been nothing but awful to him, he’s still so kind to me.
I blink a few times, clearing the tears and bringing my arm up to wipe at my eyes before turning back to Izzy.
“He seems like a great guy.” I almost choke saying the words, at having to act so detached from him as if I don’t know every single thing about him.
“I wouldn’t be asking you to give him a chance if he wasn’t,” Izzy says, and I can hear the sincerity in her voice.
I can see so much of Isaac in her. He’s had to take on somewhat of a parental role with her, doing more for her than most other brothers would. He never once complained about it, though, always saying that he just wanted Izzy to have a better time with school than he’s had. He takes on so much to help others, like he’s doing with this project, too, and it’s one of the things I loved the most about him .
Izzy looks up at me, waiting for an answer, and I don’t think I can keep lying to her or myself anymore.
“I’ll think about it. If he asks me again, maybe I’ll give him a chance.”
Izzy’s face brightens, a smile so similar to her brothers, and I have to smile back at her.
As much as I want to pretend and convince myself that I hate him and that he means nothing to me anymore, I just can’t. It’s exhausting having to act like nothing ever happened between us and that I’m completely fine when I’m the furthest from it.
And if Isaac was brave enough to give that little truth to Izzy, I can give her one, too.
I want to give him a second chance.
I call my mum when I get back to my room and prepare for another lecture. We haven’t spoken since last weekend, and this is one of the longest times we’ve gone without speaking to each other. I know I can’t keep putting it off, though, and that we’ll have to have a conversation about the future eventually, considering I need to start applying for universities soon.
The first time I ring, she doesn’t answer, so I wait for her to call back, but she doesn’t, and I start to worry that maybe I’ve pushed her too far. We’ve always had a close relationship because it’s just been the two of us. Having her ignore me like this feels more painful than anything else, but I know it’s a lot for her to deal with, too.
I call again, but there’s still no answer, so I settle for texting her instead and just hope she’ll get back to me soon.
Violet
Hi mum
I tried calling you, but you might be busy
Call me back whenever you can
I love you
I spend the rest of the evening doing homework and waiting for a response that doesn’t come.