The Certainty of Violet & Luke(2)

‘Yeah, I’m positive.’ I throw back the rest of my bee from the plastic orange cup with pumpkins on it. Halloween is a few weeks away and everything seems to be about orange, pumpkins, and scary at the moment. I’ve lost count of how many of these pumpkin decorated cups I’ve drunk. ‘I’m not ready to go home yet …’ I scan the living room that belongs to the guy hosting the party, looking for God knows what – something that will get me into trouble probably. It’s littered with beer bottles and trash, the air laced with cigarette smoke, music throbbing from the speakers, people dancing, flirting, making out in corners. A couple of months ago, I’d probably have been here dealing for Preston.

Fucking Preston.

Dammit, why can’t I just get over it and move on! Just let something go for once!

‘It’s just that we have class tomorrow,’ Luke reminds me, bringing my attention back to him, his brown eyes so full of concern as if he’s afraid I’m going to break apart right here in front of him. But I won’t. After the incident in his truck where I had a meltdown, and then again at his father’s house, I promised myself never again would I break apart again like that. ‘And we’re both still trying to get caught up from those two weeks we took off.’

We’ve been back at Laramie and the University of Wyoming for almost two weeks since we took off to Vegas then to his father’s house. The amount of schoolwork we returned to is overwhelming and I should be back at the apartment, studying hardcore for the Chemistry exam I have on Friday, which I should plan on attending, considering I’ve been warned about my attendance. But I can’t study right now, I’m too restless, my mind in overdrive as I keep thinking about the same sequence of things over and over again.

Preston.

My parents.

Luke’s mom.

Preston.

Who am I anymore?

This broken girl?

Confused.

Lost.

Seeking something she probably won’t find.

‘How about you head back,’ I tell Luke, crushing the empty cup and then tossing it onto a nearby coffee table. ‘And I’ll come home with Seth.’

His frown deepens. ‘Yeah, that sounds like a disaster in the making.’

I feign being offended. ‘Hey, we’ve been getting along better,’ I say, then start dancing again because sitting still is impossible. What I said is true, too. Ever since we’ve gotten back, Seth, one of my roommates who I’ve had a rocky history with – probably because he thought I was a hooker at one point – has been nicer to me. I think it’s more pity than anything else. Pity because my parents were murdered. Pity because Luke’s mother played a part in their deaths. Pity because the only true father figure I had turned out to be a creeper who has been stalking me since I was younger. Everyone seems to feel sorry for me, and in their own ways are trying to help me heal. But I’m healing in silence, at least that’s what I tell myself. During the rare times, though, that I admit the truth to myself, I know that I’m just shutting down and avoiding everything. But I can’t seem to do anything else, otherwise it feels like I’m going to break, and when I feel like I’m going to break I push myself dangerously to the edge and test potentially irreversible boundaries.

Although, it’s kind of hard to do anything when I’m constantly being watched. At night there’s a cop car that parks in front of my apartment, thanks to Detective Stephner. During the day I’m supposed to be with someone. And Luke, it seems, has taken on being that someone because he hasn’t left my side since that conversation at his father’s house. I feel bad. I mean, he had a life before he met me and I feel like I’ve taken that away from him. As sad as this story’s going to be – the story of us – I know that eventually all this shit is going to wear him down and he’s going to send me flying away, just like everyone else in my life. I used to be fine with that; used to be able to flip my middle finger at them and soar away with my wings spanned wide. But now I’m like a bird with a broken wing who’s going to crash, which kind of makes me hate myself because I’m so vulnerable and weak. I miss being the strong, badass Violet, but I don’t know how to bring her back.

Luke puts his hands on my hips, stopping me from moving. I realize I’ve drifted more into the center of the crowd and am surrounded by sweaty people dry humping each other as they grind to the beat of the song. Luke and I did that once, but that was back in the past.