Violet Sunshine

Chapter 3: The Accused and the Guilty

I snorted. "Yeah."

"I don't know how you kept it together so well with Ethan and the principal."

I shrugged. "There wasn't much I could do, and I didn't want to make the potential punishment worse. Ms. Dunham is set on getting one of us to 'fess up so she can blame it on someone."

"That's so unfair." Willow shifted on the bed next to me, putting an arm behind her head. "I'm writing an angry letter."

I laughed despite myself, and Willow cracked a smile, too. She's only thirteen, so we're four years apart, but sometimes it feels as though there's no age gap between us at all.

"If it makes you feel any better, I got called a skank today," Willow continued, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice is strained.

I turned to look at her. "Is this because of the same girl who started some bogus rumor that you have four boyfriends?"

"Yeah." Willow's voice sounded weak and far away. "Which is very funny, because I don't remember ever having even one."

"Willow, it's not funny at all," I said, propping myself up with one elbow as I looked down at her. "You need to tell someone about this, or it'll never stop."

"I am telling someone about it," she said, smiling faintly. "I'm telling you." She rolled her head on my shoulder, using it as a pillow.

I sighed, stroking my hand on her hair. It's times like these that the four-year age gap between us becomes more obvious. We were home-schooled for a long time before being sent to public school, and Willow never really managed to find her footing there, being shy and withdrawn around strangers after years of only having me around. What started as teasing climbed to full-scale bullying, and I know Willow is trying to make it seem not as bad as it actually was, but sometimes she came home down in the dumps or pretended to be sick to avoid going to school altogether.

"Sounds like you really like this Jackie woman," Willow said from under my arm. "Especially if she's into older music like you are."

I sighed. "I know. And I do like her. Something about her presence..." I drifted off, mostly because I didn't know how to put what I was thinking into words, and my thoughts tangled together in a hazy mess once again.

"But Will getting in trouble would mean him and Jackie moving away from Oak Point." Willow mulled this over for a few moments. "Then again, you don't want to get suspended for something you didn't do."

I turned my head to face her, and her hazel eyes meet mine. "So what are you going to do, Vi?" Willow questioned.

I bit my lip for a moment, then lept off the bed, heading over to my desk, Willow's eyes following me. On the desk lies a record player, the headshell silver and gold knobs lining the left side of the turntable. Stacked between two tall, rectangular black speakers — one speaker with a pair of headphones on top of it — are my most prized possessions: my records. I thumbed through them to find the one I was looking for, then carefully slid the vinyl out of its cover and onto the record player, placed the stylus gently on it, and turned around as music began to play.

"I think I'll shut my brain off for a little while."

I flopped back onto my bed next to Willow, back-first this time, and we both lie there as Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys fills the room. I smiled faintly as I remembered Jackie telling me about Live Aid, and tried for a moment to imagine what it would have been like to hear this song performed live. I closed my eyes and let the lyrics wash over me, drowning out my confused thoughts:

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older?

Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

And wouldn't it be nice to live together