The Destiny of Violet and Luke(96)

I want Violet more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I want everything I’ve been avoiding since I turned sixteen and I no longer care that I’m not thinking just about myself. I want Violet so bad it burns under my skin fiercer than the alcohol burns at my throat.

At the end of the seemingly endless swallow, I still feel the overpowering urge to go back to the room—to her—so I do. I climb into the bed and nuzzle up against her, holding on to her, lying beside her, like she asked me to do. But I’m not even sure who I do it for.

I sleep with a girl for the very first time and the surprising thing is I enjoy it for a moment until I shut my eyes. Then, as usual, the past catches up with me.

*


It’s dark outside, really late, but I can hear the boom of fireworks going off as they sprinkle the sky. My room is dark, but I can’t sleep because I can hear my mom banging around in the kitchen. I’m about to get up and see what she’s doing, because she’s been acting really weird lately, taking all these pills and snorting things up her nose. But then I hear my door creak open and someone walks inside.



“Lukey, I need you.” She strokes my head as I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. “Wake up.”



I open my eyes to the moonlight glowing through my room, the sounds of fireworks exploding in the distance, and my mother sitting on the edge of my bed.



“What do you want?” I ask, rubbing my tired eyes.



She stands up and wanders over to the window, staring outside at the backyard. “I think we’re being watched.”



I sit up. “What?”



She turns around and holds her hand out to me. “Come with me, sweetie.”



I shake my head and let out a frustrated breath, but finally, I get to my feet. She sometimes acts weird like this and it’s annoying, but tonight she seems more intense, her breathing really loud, her hand gripping mine too tightly as she hauls me out of the room. She drags me into the living room and we sink down onto the couch wrapped in plastic. I wait in fear for what she’s going to do next, noticing the blood on her shirt and hands for the first time. Finally, she wraps her arms around me and starts to cry.



“I did something wrong,” she sobs, rocking back and forth.



“Please, just let me go, Mom,” I practically beg, because her grip is hurting me.



“Lukey, I can’t let you go. I need you.” She hugs me tighter and there’s blood on her clothes. It’s warm and feels wrong as it seeps into my clothes.



“Mom,” I say, my voice trembling as I feel so weak inside because I don’t want her holding me right now but I’m not strong enough to get away. Everything feels wrong. Her. Me. The blood on her clothes. “Why do you have blood on your clothes?”



She sobs hysterically, pressing her cheek against the top of my head. She starts singing under her breath, one of the songs she wrote for my dad when he was leaving her.



“Lean into me. Lean into me. Take. Help me. I need to understand. Help me. I can’t do this without you.” She sings it over and over again, all night, refusing to let me go, and I feel smaller and smaller with each word until I’m so small I barely exist.





Chapter 15



Violet



I wake up the next morning, not gasping for the first time, but my head is throbbing and my dry throat burns with the need to hack. I start to get up to go to the bathroom, when I realize I’m weighed down by an arm. I roll over and find Luke sleeping beside me in the bed with his arm draped over me. Well, this is… interesting.

I sift through my memories, wincing at the protesting pain, and slowly it comes back to me in sharp images. I wince at one in particular, Luke’s fingers sliding inside me, but then as I remember how it felt, my stomach somersaults, and I remember how content I felt. I could try to blame it on the alcohol—it wouldn’t be the first time—but with the positive way my body responds to the memories, I’d only be bullshitting myself.

Lying beside him isn’t so bad, either, which is confusing to accept. All these years, never letting anyone get that close to me, never feeling anything for anyone on a deep level. I don’t know what to do with myself. Give in to the feeling or bail out.

Carefully, I lift his arm off me and duck out from under it. Then I climb over him and leave him sleeping in the room. I need to clear my head. Breathe. Think about what all this means and decide what I’m going to do when he wakes up.