"Are you going to finish that?"
Louis' eyes are glued to the half-eaten scraps left on my plate, his expression wildly attentive. I raise an eyebrow at him. "Haven't you already had seconds?"
"Third times a charm, right?" he smirks and inches his finger towards it.
"Louis, as much as it was amusing, I doubt anyone here wants to see you hurl again," Marlon pointed out quite literally. Brody nods in agreement by his side.
"What am I supposed to do, huh? Leave a perfectly good meal to waste? That's absurd! Right, Omar?"
Omar, a reserved boy with a mane of coils, doesn't bat an eye to the conversation. He's too occupied with collecting the group's cutlery to return to the kitchen. I only met him a few moments ago when he served us at the food counter. He's not as expressive as everyone else. He masks a straight face and his voice sticks to one octave. Despite this, he seems genuine and considerate; making sure each stomach receives an equal helping. Not to mention he is a talented cook. If I knew pasta could taste this good I wouldn't have put up with anything else.
"I'd prefer you not to ruin everyone else's experience," he finally concedes, picking up the last dirty fork.
"I haven't already? That's good enough for me!" Louis declares. Before I can react, the rest of my dinner is gone. He gobbles it up, not leaving room to savour it at all. Omar dodges the unpleasant sight and leaves with the dishes.
Dinner at Ericson's is much more active than lunchtimes. It feels as if the enrolment rate has doubled since then. After we brought studying to a close, Brody and I struggled to find anyone. We read textbooks and highlighted the thesis until there wasn't enough time to change out of our uniforms. Thankfully, it made it easier for the boys to spot and guide us to their claimed picnic bench.
Louis burps vastly and sighs, rubbing his stomach with satisfaction. His face screws up as if his brain is racketing a thought. He suddenly lights up and looks around. "Wait, where the hell is Vi?"
Brody chews the side of her cheek. I don't even know what to say. My first introduction to Violet was messy. It could have gone much better than it did. She didn't even shake my hand. She stared straight through it, straight through me like I was nothing but water. I cannot seem to dismiss the thought of it as much as I want to. I care about it when I shouldn't. I don't give a shit if someone doesn't like me. I prepared myself for this and yet I'm here pulling at my sleeve in discomfort. Louis sighs at us.
"Oh god, what on earth happened now? Is she covered in glitter again?"
Brody gawks at him. "G-Glitter? What? No! Don't even remind me of that catastrophe."
"Not even the part when the vacuum broke and shot the glitter back out again?"
"Okay, what?" I interrupt before the conversation can escalate any further. Louis releases a laugh and claps my back.
"Forget studying. There are so many stories you need to catch up on. The glitter incident for starters, maybe Violet could tell you all about it."
Brody sniffs. "If she stops being so moody."
"Oooh, you're dealing with Vicious Violet. Yikes."
"Vicious Violet?" I question, raising both my eyebrows. That does not sound promising.
"Mmhmm," he starts. "There's also Virtuous Violet, Vexatious Violet, Victory Violet..."
Louis lists them off his fingers one by one. Brody eventually gives up with him and turns to vent to Marlon instead. The two of them break off and engage in a world of their own. Louis rambles on of all possibilities that alliterate with Violet until a boy emerging from the crowd causes him to trail off. With such little time, I have come to learn that he has the attention span of a puppy. He waits until the slender boy is just about to pass us, then he shockingly seizes him into a headlock. "Woah! Where are you going?"
The stranger squeals, grunts and claws at him. "Louis, seriously, get your fu-"
He notices me and stammers. Louis ruffles his hair playfully.
"Clementine, meet my big fun-loving bestie, Aasim!" he beams.
"I thought Marlon was your bestie," Aasim responds and rolls his eyes. Well, I think he rolled his eyes. Half his face is hiding behind Louis' bicep.
"Aye! You said bestie! I thought that term was incorrect," Louis says teasingly, twirling the tips of Aasim's hair.
"Can you please stop being a douche bag and let me go?!" he demands. Louis lingers on the idea before setting him free. Aasim's body jolts forward trying to regain his balance. He gasps and splutters, palming his throat angrily.
"Where are the teachers when you need them?" he grumbles.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
He glances down at me in surprise. He stops for a brief moment as if he's slowly processing the question to himself.
"He's finnne, he's just being dramatic," Louis insists, spinning to face Aasim. "Both of your legs are still working, right?"
"You are unbelievable!" He seethes, anger sizzling off him. He shoves his clenched fists into his pockets and marches away.
"A goodbye would have been nice!" Louis calls after him.
"Your share of the bargain better be finished by Friday!" he yells in return.
Louis swerves back to me. "See? Told you, dramatic."
He tries to play it off light-heartedly but his cheery tone falls flat. It's the first time I've seen him somewhat upset. In a fidgety manner, he yanks a deck of cards from his own pockets.
Marlon straightens his posture. "Is it time already?"
"Nope, Clementine has to head back and unpack," Brody interjects.
"Aw, come on! She can stay for one game," Louis insists, impressively shuffling his cards with one hand.
"No, she can't," she says assertively. Louis crumples a little more from disappointment.
"Sorry," I say, reversing from my seat. I wanted to stay but Brody is right, she firmly advised me it would be better to do it now before my assignments pile up. "I'll see you guys tomorrow?"
"Of course," Marlon grins. "Goodnight"
"Sleep tight; don't let the bed bugs bite your ass!" Louis adds.
Brody punches him in the shoulder playfully before nodding to me. "I'll catch up with you later."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I stroll back to the dorms after taking a shower. I usually take them in the mornings but I was itching to cleanse the day away. Leaving dinner early was a good call as the majority of the stalls were empty. I even had time to wash my hair free from any complaints. It would happen all the time after baseball practises, always scowled at by teammates to hurry up. Our team captain was the worst of them all. She ordered everyone relentlessly; her attitude sliced through people with no mercy. Still, she was sickeningly adored and got away with it. She was a bitch. One good thing about transferring here is that I don't have to see her anymore. She's probably over the moon about it.
I hold a bag of toiletries in one hand and my worn uniform in the other. It's a relief to finally rid myself of it and slip into something I'm more used to. I've selected a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized shirt as pyjamas. The pants wrap around my heels instead of my ankles where they should. They are still comfy otherwise.
I stand still at room 224 and I make sure to knock. There is no way I'm going to take the chance of walking in on someone naked. That'll surely be the cherry on top of such an eventful first day. A muffled voice rises from inside, granting me access.
I unlatch the door with my elbow and discover Violet leaning over her bed. I haven't seen her since the little outburst from this afternoon. Now I'm shutting myself in a room with her. Alone.
"Hey," I say carefully.
"Hey," she mumbles, acknowledging me before continuing to fold her clothes away. She takes them from her suitcase and handles them neatly. I scurry to my luggage and begin to do the same.
Ongoing silence stretches between us endlessly. It's awkward but I would much rather this then to be insulted or ridiculed. I observe her from the corner of my eye to see where she moves to place her stuff so I don't get in her way. She's in her pyjamas too. Satin sleep shorts with scattered stars and an unfitted bland tee that drapes across her shoulder.
There are containers tucked underneath the bunks for student storage. There's an empty one reserved just for me. I pile an arrangement of shoes, jeans and sweaters in it noisily. I thought Violet was looking at me for a moment but when I glanced to see she wasn't.
I scoop my uniform where I left it and search for a coat hanger. I expected to find one in the closet but they're all occupied. I locate one on the dresser instead. When I collect it, I spot the purple pin, the one that Violet wore today. At this distance, I'm finally able to see what it says. It reads 'Camp Paya' with a soft acrylic rainbow.
"I like your pin," I say.
She cracks her head at me, her lime green eyes startled. Much like when she burst in here hours ago. "Um, thanks, I guess," she murmured and then automatically goes back to her chores. I hang my clothes while my gut suddenly urges for discussion.
"So, was there a room swap?"
She perks her attention towards me again. "What?"
"Well, I know you're not new, that's for sure. I saw your bag and thought..."
"Oh, no," she says, folding clothes like it's her job. "I was kicked out of mine."
"How come?"
"I was caught making out with my girlfriend."
I pause for a second too long and she scoffs.
"What?" I ask, annoyed.
"Nothing. I understand that it's not your lifestyle or anything."
"Bold of you to assume I'm offended by it," I remark.
She pauses as if I just slapped her across the face. She drops her head down, speechless. Changing the subject, I point at the shelf floating in the corner. "Can I use this?"
"Yeah," she coughs, composing herself.
The shelf grows higher when you are right underneath it. I stretch my arm trying to place my belongings. I balance on the tip of my toe, hopping with much effort only to end up stumbling over. Watching from afar Violet sighs, dropping her clothes.
"Oh my god," she groans and tramps over. "Here."
She takes my books, straightens her posture and slides them onto the shelf effortlessly. In doing so, she has suddenly grown an inch taller.
"Thanks. I didn't realise how tall you are"
She shrinks back to my level, pursing her lips while her cheeks tinged a hint of red. Any attempt I make to shear the awkwardness seems to be a hit and miss.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," I faltered.
"No, sorry, it's just..."
She sighs again and crosses her arms. "I'm not good with people," she says, but then cringes and shakes her head. "Ugh, I mean-"
"Hey, no worries," I assure her in an effort to stop her flustering. She is the most reserved person I have met as of yet. She's distant, not inviting. I think back to what Sophie had said about Violet and I both experiencing a rough day. I don't think getting kicked out and forced to move in here hasn't been easy for her.
"I'm not," she deflected, her arms falling to her side.
I give her a small smile. I didn't think she would return it but the corner of her mouth curls upward. We sort of linger in each other's gazes for a moment. I wipe my clammy palms onto my pants. She shifts slightly, gaping to stay something, then stopping and then trying again.
"Um, about earlier..." she begins. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for-".
Brody explodes into the room. "Hey, guys!"
Violet shutters and curses. "Jesus fucking christ on a shitty canoe, Brody!"
"That's a mouthful. You know I should be reporting you for that, right?"
"You wouldn't."
Brody stands back from us and smirks.
"What's that look for?" challenges Violet.
"Nothing. Glad you're in a better mood now, Vi."
Violet retreats to her bed, kicking her suitcase underneath it. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Brody begins to prepare for her own shower. "I'll be awake for a little while longer if you're thinking about staying up."
"Definitely not, I'm exhausted," I yawn.
"You can say that again," Violet muffles from her pillow.
I smile to myself, slipping under my covers and sinking into my mattress. It's comforting to know Violet and I are mutual. It makes me feel she hates me a little less.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I am stuck. Thick glass panes are concealing me into a tight rectangular box. I'm like an artefact on display where people can look straight in and I can look straight out.
They pass me dressed in their blazers, their bags and their ties. An emblem sewn onto their pockets to remind them where they belong. All I wear is my own clothes from home and my dad's old cap. It's always been a perfect fit. Now it feels too big.
I don't know where I am. It's bright and blinding, it's just a room coated with an endless sheet of white, too pristine to be real. There's no beginning or end I can see. What is going on?
A shadow appears through the crowd and looms towards me. It grows and develops fine details of blonde hair and green cat-like eyes.
It's Violet pushing a wheelbarrow.
She's struggling, stopping for student traffic and going again. The wheelbarrow is rusty, worn and squeaks while it travels along. Her nails engrave into its rubber handles. As she gets closer I realise there are bricks piled in it.
She kneels down, takes one, places it below my feet and presses it against the glass. It locks into place magically. She then grabs another and stacks them together, building what seems to be a brick wall around me.
"What are you doing?" I call. She doesn't answer. She doesn't even acknowledge me. Can she even see me?
"Violet?" I raise my voice and knock above her head. She flinches in response, but she keeps going. The tower of bricks continues to rise.
"Violet?!"
But she doesn't listen. She keeps going, not missing a beat. Nausea simmers in my stomach.
"Stop! Please don't!" I cry, hammering my fist against the glass. I throw all my weight onto it desperately, trying with all my strength to grasp freedom. The chances are slimming like the oxygen that remains. My breath catches in my throat. Why is she doing this? What did I do wrong?
A blood-curdling scream rips from within me. "STOP!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I jump so violently I almost smack my head against the bunk frame. I gasp while chills crawl up and down my spine. My heart is throbbing in my ears. Sweat is swept across my body. My skin tingles as if I've just bathed in needles.
I search around in the darkness frantically. I see the outlines of beds, the dodgy dresser and magazine snippets. I'm back where I last closed my eyes.
Violet is curled up. She's turned away facing the wall, her shoulders rising and falling softly. There is no sign of a wheelbarrow or bricks.
I hear Brody stir above me and then lay as still as the silence.
I bury myself with my quilt neck deep.
I don't think I've ever had a nightmare like that before.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hiya! I'm going to try and add little drawings for each chapter. Thought it would be kinda cute.
~ Ash :)