17. Violet
VIOLET
When I come down the stairs Tuesday night dressed for the banquet, my friends are all sitting in the living room. Their conversation stops and all eyes are on me.
“You look beautiful, Vi.” Daisy stands from where she sits on Jordan’s lap and comes over and hugs me.
“Thanks. Can you help with the clasp?” I hold the gold chain around my wrist with trembling hands.
“I got it,” she says in a soft, reassuring voice.
My heart is in my throat, and I haven’t been able to get a full breath all day.
It’s silly and I know my body’s reaction is overkill for the non-date, favor plus-one situation, but I can’t seem to control my anxiety.
I think maybe it’s from lack of sleep. I’ve been stressing over my design for Penelope, which is due this week.
I love the dress I made, but I’m not one hundred percent on it yet.
Oh, and I’ve been studying for a history test on Thursday.
I also decided this was the week I needed to finally reorganize my closet.
Basically, I’ve done my best to put the whole banquet out of my mind until now, which has not been easy.
Suddenly, everywhere I turn, things remind me of Gavin.
My house used to be a safe space, free of memories of him, and now it’s become enemy number one.
I swear I still randomly catch a whiff of him in my room.
“He is going to die when he sees you,” Jane says from the couch.
“Wait. Was that the plan?” Jordan asks, eyes widening and forehead wrinkling in concern. “Do I need to warn him?”
“No, of course not,” Daisy answers for me, then adds, “It isn’t, right?”
“No. I am not trying to kill anyone.” I release a nervous laugh and shove my phone in my purse. “I’m returning the favor for helping me last weekend. That’s it.”
My friends don’t look convinced, but thankfully, the doorbell rings, ending our conversation.
I open the door, totally unprepared for the sight in front of me.
Gavin is dressed in navy slacks and a lighter blue shirt.
His tie is yet another shade of blue, this one brighter.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him dressed in anything but athletic clothes or jeans.
I stare blankly at him, neither of us saying a word.
“Hey, man, looking sharp,” Jordan calls from the couch, snapping me out of it.
“Hi,” Gavin says to him, then his gaze comes back to me. He does a long sweep over my blue dress all the way to the silver heels laced up my calves.
I glance down quickly and hold back a curse. My dress is nearly a perfect match to the color of his tie. It’s like we’re going to freaking prom and purposely coordinated our outfits.
“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the banquet.”
“It’s nice out tonight. I figured we might as well walk over together.” He shoves both hands in his pants pockets.
All the anxiety and nerves I’ve been battling all week come to a head.
Designing a dress for a celebrity seems like a simple endeavor compared to spending the rest of the evening with Gavin on a date.
Yeah, it’s a date. I don’t know how I thought I could play it off any other way, but seeing us together in our swatches of blue, him picking me up, we’re most definitely on a date.
I should have just owed him one: redeemable for free parking outside our house without me yelling at him, or something much simpler and less anxiety producing.
“Sure. Yeah. Fine,” I say in a casual tone that is all fake bravado.
I don’t look at my friends. The only one who seems to understand or worry is Daisy.
Don’t get me wrong, Dahlia and Jane would kill him if he hurt me again, but they both seem so hopeful right now, and I don’t want hope.
Can’t have hope. Not if I have a prayer of getting through tonight.
The banquet is held at Ray Field House, which is conveniently located across the street from our houses. Gavin and I walk side by side down the sidewalk and then across the road.
Inside, we are ushered to a large banquet room.
I think it’s actually two rooms with a divider open to make it one big space.
There’s a bar in one corner and the rest of the room is set up with circular tables.
Servers in black and white are bringing pitchers of water to the tables.
Candles are lit in the center of each one.
It’s all way nicer than I would have predicted for the basketball team.
“Do we have assigned seats or…” I let my question trail off.
“We can sit wherever. You pick.”
“Outside, perhaps,” I mumble under my breath.
“Sure,” he says without missing a beat. He’s scanning the room and fiddling with the cuff of his left shirt sleeve.
“We should just skip the whole thing, get drunk, take off all our clothes.”
“Mhmm.” His mouth is locked in a tight line.
I was so caught up in my own nerves that I didn’t realize Gavin is anxious too. Except his anxiety has nothing to do with me.
I follow his line of sight across the room. Anthony Leonard is a handsome man, and the resemblance is undeniable. Tall, broad shoulders, thick, dark hair, and a square jaw. I’ve seen pictures of the older Leonard when he was at Valley U, and it’s like looking at his son.
I step closer to Gavin. A favor for a favor. The reminder why I’m here and the knowledge that he has more on the line than me tonight puts me at ease and pushes me into action. I slide my hand around his bicep, fresh anxiety swirling in my stomach.
“Ready?”
He glances at my fingers resting on his arm. His throat works with a swallow, and he nods. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
For the first thirty minutes or so, we move around the room and chat with players and members of the coaching staff.
Gavin introduces me to everyone, and I do my best to keep them all straight.
A lot of the guys I know, of course, either from living next door or from classes, a few even from back when Gavin and I hung out last year.
Since then, I’ve avoided not only Gavin, but his teammates and friends—anyone that had any connection to him.
It was too hard. Gavin and I were a blip in time, but it was such a great blip.
Until we weren’t. I think maybe the hardest part of how things ended between us is that it felt so out of character, so wrong.
How could he be this great guy who made me feel beautiful and important, and then cheat on me with my roommate?
I was dreading this part of the night more than anything else—making nice with his friends, but it isn’t as awkward as I expected, and I’m actually having a decent time. It scares me how easy it is to be with him again. Hating him was simpler.
A man steps in front of the microphone at the front of the room to thank us for coming and to let us know it’s time for dinner.
We’re seated at a table with Noah and Tommy, neither of who brought dates.
The last I saw Mr. Leonard, he was across the room, talking with some guy in a suit and tie who looked important, so I lost track of him until he pulls out a chair next to his son.
I hold my breath as he flashes a smile around the table.
It’s so much like Gavin’s, but not at all either.
Mr. Leonard’s smile has no real warmth behind it.
I imagine it comes from years of donning it for the media.
I don’t want to have any sympathy for him, but I imagine it must be hard to have cameras pushed in your face everywhere you go.
Regardless, I like that Gavin’s smile, rare as it may be aimed at me, never feels anything but authentic.
Gavin bounces his leg under the table. Otherwise, he looks perfectly calm. I only notice because his knee brushes mine with every bounce, sending a whole host of new butterflies swarming in my stomach.
Servers begin to bring out plates, and the hum of conversation starts back up throughout the room. Mr. Leonard has a presence that is impossible to ignore and none of us speak until he does.
“Good to see you, son.” He’s looking at Gavin, but when he doesn’t respond or even look up, Mr. Leonard shifts his attention to Tommy and Noah. “You boys are having a hell of a year. Noah, that shot you made against UCLA last week was incredible.”
Noah thanks him and then he and Tommy fall into conversation with Gavin’s dad, but I don’t hear any of it because all I can focus on is the man next to me. His shoulders start to shake and then laughter spills from his lips.
“It’s good to see me?” he mutters the question to himself. His laughter grows in volume and then he cuts it off with a snort. “Really, Dad? It’s good to see me? That’s the best you got after almost two years of not being in the same room as me?”
Noah and Tommy look down at their plates, pretending to give them privacy. Two years? I knew things had been rough, but I can’t imagine not seeing either of my parents for that long.
Mr. Leonard doesn’t respond. He probably doesn’t have a comeback fitting for the accusation. Instead, he puts on that fake smile again and looks to me. “Who is this beautiful young lady? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Gavin.”
I expect Gavin to correct him, to tell him I’m not his girlfriend, maybe introduce me, but he just twists his mouth into a scowl and shakes his head.
“I’m Violet.” I start to offer my hand, but Gavin leans forward blocking my path.
“How would you expect to know anything about my life? We haven’t even talked in months. You only call when Mom guilts you into it or so you can pretend to be father of the year in interviews. You don’t give a shit about my life so don’t waltz in here and put on some act for my teammates.”
His dad lowers his voice. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
“Then when is?”
“Keep your voice down. You’re making a scene,” his dad warns. The server approaches our table and sets plates in front of me then Gavin.
“Thanks,” Gavin says politely, then pushes back from the table and stands. “I think I’m gonna get some air.”
He takes off toward the banquet room doors. I give Mr. Leonard a tight-lipped smile, excuse myself, and follow his son.
Gavin’s long legs make him impossible to catch. He finally stops outside.
I’m not quiet about my approach, but Gavin doesn’t turn around to look at me. He stares off into the horizon. The sun is setting, but the warm air still lingers in the air. He raises both hands and places them behind his head, then let’s out a guttural growl as he fists his hair.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and take two steps to reach him.
I’m so far out of my depth here. I have no idea what to say or do.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like seeing him after all this time or having a dad that’s in the headlines constantly.
The only time my dad ever makes the news is for the Nerdy Derby.
He participates in it every year and won first place last year. ”
Gavin lets his hands drop to his sides. His dark eyes soften as he asks, “Nerdy Derby?”
“Yeah, it’s like souped-up handmade vehicles.”
“I thought those kinds of things were for kids.”
“Oh, they are. Second place was a seven-year-old.”
He finally chuckles, and I can tell the release takes some of the weight off his chest.
“Don’t let him ruin tonight for you. Isn’t this supposed to be a fun night?” His friends certainly seem to be having a good time.
“I’m not hoping for fun tonight. Just survival.”
Honestly, same. Except the more time I spend with Gavin, the harder it is to remember that this is a truce, and not us picking up where we left off.
“We could move tables,” I suggest.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Maybe it’s juvenile, but I don't want him to have the satisfaction of feeling like he ran me off.”
“I get that,” I say.
“And as much as he pisses me off, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to some bullshit headline about us.”
“Your dad thinks I’m your girlfriend.” I lift one brow and then laugh. It feels weird to say the word. Even when we were together last year, we never put a label on it.
“Yeah, sorry,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I should have corrected him, but the less he knows about my life the better.”
“It’s all right,” I say. The air is thick with the tension surrounding him. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He’s lying.
“Try again.”
He smiles; a real smile that makes me hate his dad’s fake one even more. “I’m pissed right now, but I will be fine.”
“Better.” I tip my head toward the door. Another hour or two and we’ll both be free. “Shall we?”
He nods and falls into step next to me. “Too late to take you up on your offer of getting drunk and naked?”
My mouth falls open as I suck in a surprised breath. “You heard me?”
“It took a couple of minutes for it to register, or I would have immediately agreed.” He holds the door open for me, and something in his playful smile and dark brown eyes holds me captive as he says, “I always hear you, Violet.”