19. Violet
VIOLET
Professor Richards stares down at my design and then at the dress. Her mouth is pursed and one perfectly manicured finger rests below her bottom lip. Her expression gives nothing away, and if she doesn’t speak soon, I’m going to combust.
“I love the concept,” she says finally. “It’s risky and bold.
Two things you always do well, but I worry that it doesn’t say Penelope Hart to me.
It says Violet Johnson. If she were walking the red carpet or posing for a photograph then that would be okay, but on stage, her clothes need to sell her. ”
“That makes sense,” I say as dread pools in my stomach.
We chat for a few minutes on different options to make the design more functional, basically toning down all the things I love about it.
“Great job,” she says before she leaves. “I can’t wait to see the final piece.”
Dahlia comes over when Professor Richards leaves.
I flip to a blank page in my sketchbook, and her face pales. “You’re starting over?”
“Yep.”
“But your dress is gorgeous.”
“It’s too me.”
She scoffs and puts one hand on her hip. “Well, you are fantastic and so is that dress.”
I pick up my pencil and then tap it on the table. “She has a point. The dress shouldn’t distract from Penelope and her lyrics.”
“It won’t.” She rests both hands on the dress protectively. “The girl knows how to rock a designer dress. It isn’t going to swallow her. If Jane can pull it off, so can Penelope.”
That’s true. Still, I worry as I look around the room and see the other pieces. This is such a big opportunity, and I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
“Don’t be afraid to be you. You’re the coolest designer I know.”
“Thanks, Dahlia.” I smile at my friend. “What’d she say about yours?”
“Basically, the opposite advice she gave you. Less comfort and more va-va-voom.”
“Together, we could rule the world,” I say, and take a seat.
“Something tells me you’re going to do just that without any help from me.” Dahlia heads back to her table and I stare at my dress.
Do I stay true to my original vision or start over? When class is over, I still haven’t decided.
Since Dahlia is going to the library after class, I walk home alone. I’m deep in thought, head warring with indecision, when Gavin calls my name from the front porch of his house.
He lifts a hand in a wave and jogs toward me.
I have spent every minute since I saw him last, since he freaking kissed me, trying to forget the hum of electricity it sent through me. I haven’t told a soul about what happened. I’m still trying to make sense of it. How can I still want him even after he crushed my heart?
As he reaches me, he flashes a charming smile with a hint of nerves.
“I’m glad I caught you before I left.” The sleeves of his T-shirt fit snug around his biceps and the athletic pants hug his thighs.
“Late practice?” My voice wavers with anxiety at making idle conversation with him. We’re in this weird place between hating each other and being friendly.
“Film review.”
I nod slowly and wrap my hands around the straps of my backpack.
“I’m sorry again about last night.” He pauses and then adds, “For kissing you.”
“It was a weird night. A lot of emotions and pretending to be together.” I wave it off. “Already forgotten.”
No chance in hell I’m ever forgetting it.
Gavin clears his throat as a muscle in his cheek jumps. “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about us all day. I can’t take back what happened in the past, and I know you might not be able to forgive me, but I really like being around you. Maybe we could… hang out again or something?”
He sounds so hopeful it pulls at the part of me, the very large part, that wants nothing more than to forgive and forget. If only it were that easy.
“I had a lot of fun last night, Vi, which is saying something considering my father was in the same mile radius.”
I did too, at least in moments, but I can’t bring myself to admit it to him.
“Anyway, in the spirit of wanting to be friends, I was hoping you might be free tonight?”
What? The question must be written on my face because he keeps going.
“We’re short a bowler tonight. Actually two, but Daisy already agreed to take one of those spots. Any chance you want to be our fourth?”
I’m thrown and unable to form words. “I…”
He smiles. “Trying to think of an excuse?”
“What?”
“You’re not a very good liar. You trail off and get this wide-eyed look.” His eyes widen until I don’t think they can get any bigger.
“I do not look like that.”
“You do.” He chuckles and rubs his hands together in front of him.
“If you don’t think you can spend any more time with me, without wanting to tear all my clothes off, then I’ll completely understand.
” His words take me by surprise, but then he grins playfully, and it finally breaks the weird tension between us.
If we’re not fighting, then we’re too nice and polite, tiptoeing around each other. I don’t know what to do with that kind of relationship with Gavin, but cocky and taunting? I know how to handle that.
I fake gag. “You wish.”
“Prove it then.” He walks backward. “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
At five ’til seven, Daisy and I walk into the bowling alley, followed by Dahlia and Jane. In other words, I brought reinforcements.
Gavin and Jenkins are waiting for us. Jordan and Liam, the other members of their weekly bowling league, had a hockey team dinner tonight to celebrate the end of the season.
Gavin flashes me a smile that makes my stomach flip, then tosses me a team shirt that smells faintly of him.
I pull it on and go to find a ball. Jane falls in next to me and reaches down to pick up a fourteen-pound bowling ball. “How about this one?”
Gavin steps up beside me and takes a blue ball off the rack.
“Fourteen pounds?” He nods to a lighter one in bright pink. That cocky smirk that makes my pulse quicken is etched on his face. “Maybe stick to something you can get all the way down the lane.”
I know he’s goading me, but it works.
“Don’t mansplain bowling to me. I’m perfectly capable of choosing my own ball.” I swipe the one Jane is holding. Holy crap, it’s heavy.
Gavin watches me struggle to hold it with amusement. “Perfect. See you over there.”
I hand it back to Jane as soon as he walks off, and unlike me, she doesn’t seem to be having any issue with it.
“Something seems different between you two.” She looks past me to Gavin. “What happened with you two last night? You didn’t say much when you got home.”
She focuses her attention back on me and narrows her gaze. I don’t like this level of scrutiny from my friends. I always cave and spill everything. I don’t know why I’m so hesitant to tell them we kissed, but I want to hang on to it a little longer.
“Nothing.” My voice is entirely too high-pitched. “I…”
She gasps. “It did. You just did that bug-eyed thing.”
“Seriously? I don’t do that.”
“You totally do.” She steps closer and whisper-screeches, “What happened between you and Gavin?”
When I walked in the door last night, my roommates were waiting to hear how it went. They saw us arguing but missed the kiss before that. They assumed we’d spent the entire time fighting. Fighting would have been less complicated.
“Nothing,” I try one more time, careful to keep my tone even.
She waits, brows raised like she knows I’m not telling her everything.
“He kissed me.”
“What?!” she yells so loudly we get a few stares aimed in our direction.
“It lasted for a second. It was barely a kiss. It didn’t mean anything.” I take the ball back from her. Seriously, how is she holding it so easily?
“Okay. Wow.” She blows out a breath. “We need to loop in Daisy and Dahlia.”
“We’re about to start, and if we tell them, they’re going to spend the entire night gawking between me and Gavin like you’re doing now.”
She tears her eyes off Gavin and gives me an apologetic smile.
“I will tell them when we get home. Okay?”
Jane blows out a breath. “Wow. I was sure hell would freeze over before anything ever happened between you two again.”
I nod my agreement. “Nothing is happening between us.”
“If you say so.”
Once we’re all ready, we begin. Jenkins starts us off with a strike, and then Daisy walks up to take her turn with concentration radiating off her.
“Care to make things interesting?” Gavin asks as he takes the seat next to me.
I arch a brow. “You play every week. Are you trying to hustle me? Because I already know that you can beat me.”
“I am pretty amazing.” He flashes a wide smile. “No hustle. I’ll play left-handed to even the playing field.”
“Why do you want to prove you can beat me so badly?”
“Just trying to make it more exciting.” He rubs his palms together. “I thought you’d be eager to show me up.”
“Fine, but you have to throw left-handed and turn in a circle five times.”
“O-kay.” He chuckles as he says the word.
“And whistle while you throw.”
“Anything else?”
I shake my head. “What do I win when I beat you?”
“What do you want?”
“You first.”
“If I win, you have to buy me a drink when we’re done.”
“Oh,” I say. I expected something… more.
Daisy calls for me to take my turn.
“That works for me,” I say as I stand. “Loser buys the other a drink.”