COMMON ROOM: A Short Story Anthology

Attachment by Julia (Wattpad username: afterlightt)

            He handed her a fork, and she knew she was as good as dead. It was impossible for her to know, but she felt that he was the only person she’d ever seen who made her want to scream.

            “What’s your name?” she asked under her breath as they stood drying utensils and throwing them into a bin.

            “Three of Spades,” said the boy, keeping his eyes glued down at his hands.

            “No. I mean your real name.”

            The boy startled at her words. The fear in his eyes made her want to unwind herself until she was a pile of humiliated string on the floor.

It was frightening how badly she wanted to know this boy. She wanted to hear him laugh, to hear him say her name. Her real name. She wanted to know his hopes, dreams, and fears, his favorite food. And she had no idea why.

            “I don’t think—” the boy started.

            “I’m sorry,” Violet said, shaking her head. She was being stupid. It was forbidden to know a person’s real name. No wonder he thought she was out of her mind.

            The boy twisted the towel in his hands. Violet took a deep breath. She wondered what he was thinking. She wanted to know what he thought about everything . . .

            She was so frustrated with herself that her fingers tightened on the handle of the hot knife in her hands until the metal burned her skin.

            Unwillingly, she winced. The boy, Three of Spades, turned toward her. “Did you burn yourself?” he asked stiffly, like he was required to, which he was, come to think of it.

            “Yes,” answered Violet truthfully.

            “Do you need—”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “You do know it’s illegal to interrupt, right? You’ve done it twice in a span of a minute.”

Violet was growing impatient. She must have been wrong about him. He was just another card in the deck.

            “Yes, I know that. Are you going to report me, Three of Spades?” she said, irritable.

            He shook his head vehemently before dropping the cluster of utensils into the bin in front of them. “I’m finished.” He stole a glance at Violet’s pile of wet spoons. “Have fun with that.”

            And he left.

#

She didn’t see him again until the next night, when they were back in the washroom drying utensils together. Except tonight, the room wasn’t as quiet as it had been the night before. The students were abuzz with chatter concerning the party taking place later that night . . .

            Violet couldn’t put her finger on it, but a voice in the back of her mind murmured that this happened every year. The first Friday after Shuffle, the students gathered in a secret place on the Outside when all the Reformers thought they were in bed.

            “So,” she said as she handed Three of Spades another spoon to put away. “Are you going to the party tonight? We’re going to the Outside.”

            “Of course not!” He snatched the spoon from her grasp.

            “Why not?”