The Destiny of Violet and Luke(90)

Violet hasn’t been talking to me much, spending half her time at work and the rest in her room. I try to let her be because it’s clear that’s what she wants but I’m starting to wonder if what she wants and what she needs are entirely different things I can understand to a certain extent wanting to be by myself, but she’s completely secluded herself from everyone, always alone. I’ve tried a few times to make conversation with her, just to have her back in my life and hear the sound of her voice, but she only gives me one-word responses.

I’m still sleeping on the couch, but it’s getting uncomfortable and I haven’t even unpacked my boxes yet, simply because she always has the door locked. I want to barge in there and claim my territory, but then I picture the look on her face when she opened the door after I found out about her parents and I stop myself, shut down my aggravation, reminding myself that it’s not about me and what I want.

For the last week, I’ve been on the phone with my mother every other day. I was ignoring her calls, but after the thirty-something messages cramming my voicemail, I finally started picking up. She’s in one of her moods, where she thinks someone’s after her—a neighbor, the mailman, the police. She did this a lot when I first went to college, calling me to tell me I needed to come home to protect her. She’d toned it down over the past few months, but I think when I told her I wasn’t going home for the summer, she decided to start up again. I’ve been doing my best not to ram my fist into something, reminding myself that I have a place of my own and I can do whatever I want. But every time I hear her voice it reminds me of the past, then the nightmares start up, and more anger floods me.

Friday night, Seth and I decide to throw a party to celebrate our new home and I’m glad because I really need a break from the stress of my life. Violet and Greyson are still at work, we got a living room full of people, music playing, an endless amount of drinks and week-or-so-old pot brownies Greyson made that Seth and him occasionally munch on. I asked him where he got the weed and he said from a friend, but I think Violet gave it to him, which makes me worry she might be going back to that douche. But I’m not going to ask her about it. If she’s that stupid, then she’s that stupid. Not. My. Problem. At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself, but as always I can’t help think of my past and what drugs and dealing did to my mother—what it turned her into.

I put beer, chips, and some weird fruit platter Seth picked up out in the living room, but keep the hard stuff in the fridge for my own personal use. Then I get a game of Texas Hold ’Em going at the table, milking my lucky streak for all it’s worth. I’ve got a little too many shots of vodka in my system and the kings are starting to look like queens, but I won’t stop playing or drinking, because I’m too f*cking relaxed.

There are five other guys at the table, including Seth, who’s not very good at cards, but has fun playing. One of the guys, Jonah something or other, has a blond with really bright red lips sitting on his lap, wearing this tight leather skirt and white top with no bra. She keeps giving me these looks and I’m debating whether I want to hit on her. Jonah said they weren’t dating, just friends, but it’ll still be kind of be weird if Violet walks in and I’m still not sure if I could fully go through with it and get what I’m seeking—a much-needed f*ck, one where I’m in control over the situation. Then again, I shouldn’t even be thinking about Violet. We’re not together. We kissed once. So f*cking what. It’s time to move on. Get over a girl that has no interest in me… a girl that’s been controlling every one of my thoughts for weeks, at least this is what I tell myself.

As I win the next hand, my intoxication blurs my thought process, and I start working my magic, flirting with the girl across from me, who tells me her name is Kenzie. After a few smiles and compliments, I get her to leave Jonah’s lap and come over to mine.

“You have gorgeous eyes,” she whispers in my ear, thankfully not giggling as she runs her fingers through my hair.

“You better not hurt her,” Jonah says with a laugh as he takes a sip of his beer and studies his cards.

Hurt her, no. Fuck her, yes. I wind my arm around her back and she wiggles her ass a little, settling into my lap, and it feels nice, but not as good as it usually does.

“Ante up, *,” Jonah says to me, tossing a handful of blue chips to the center of the table.

Shooting him a warning look, I reach for my chips, but pause when his eyes dart to the door. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite f*cking person in the world. What are you doing here, beautiful?”