All the Different Ways

by R. J. Lee

  An angry growl sounds from deep in Cullen’s stomach, rattling his ribcage.

  “I guess I shouldn’t have distracted you from your sandwich.”

  “I’d skip anything to be with you.”

  “Nuh uh, stop,” my eyes practically roll back in my head.

  “Ok, well maybe not football. An NCAA game for sure.”

  “Ugh!” He escapes me trying to tickle his sides. For being superhuman in size, he’s astoundingly quick on his feet. Grabbing his shorts and shirt, he retreats, laughing, through the living room to what I assume is a bathroom that I missed seeing when I snuck in like a criminal.

  “I’ll get you back for that, Metz!” I pull on my own clothes, smiling to myself.

  The events of the morning are fading away the more time I spend here. Claire and the others who kept bringing up Anden have taken seats in the shadowy places of my mind where I don’t have to see them or even acknowledge that they’re there. I don’t even care anymore to ask Cullen if he ran into Claire again. Standing, I determine to move forward, not let the shallow ignorance of others bother me. I’m a new Violet—strong, capable.

  Cullen rounds the corner unexpectedly and I jump. I’ve got to get used to his stealth; he didn’t make a sound on the hardwood floor.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He reaches for my hand and leads me into the kitchen. I sit at the island while he starts pulling sandwich fixings out of the fridge and pantry. His kitchen is very tidy—not bare, just clean. If I didn’t already know how organized he is, I’d ask what cleaning service he uses.

  “I just startle easily, I guess. It comes from my past, no biggie.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really, it’s fine.”

  “You can talk to me, Violet. I’m here for you like I said before.”

  “I know, thank you.”

  He’s paused in making his sandwich to look at me. I avert my eyes to his creation on the counter. He has ham, real ham that smells amazing, resting in his hand, ready to place on a mound of lettuce and cheese. My mouth waters. He follows my gaze.

  “Do you want a piece?”

  “Yes, please? I think I worked up an appetite.”

  “A good fuck on the stairs’ll do that to ya.” He winks when my mouth drops open and puts some ham on a plate for me. “Do you want a sandwich or just the meat?”

  I laugh, “Just the meat.”

  “Violet,” he makes a “tsk tsk” sound with his tongue, “so determined.”

  Taking the plate, I give him another good eye roll. “Do you like my name or something?”

  “Why?”

  “You say it a lot. Just curious.”

  “I love it. It’s sexy, like velvet. Soft and light one way, dark and unexpected the other way. Sometimes both at the same time. It’s beautiful just like you.”

  All I can do is stare at him. There’s a hurricane of amazement, awe, pleasure, desire, and disbelief storming inside my chest. Is he serious?

  A quick brush of his lips over mine snaps me out of my trance. “You ok there?”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s just not what I expected you to say. At. All.”

  He finishes making his sandwich with some mustard and the last piece of bread. “Blame my mom. She’s an English professor, so I get my ‘lyrical drama’ from her.”

  He uses air quotes for emphasis. It’s very sarcastic.

  “Really?”

  “Yep, you’ll have to meet her sometime. She’ll get a kick out of your logical, spirited side.”

  “Is that the light or dark velvet?”

  Out of a chuckle, Cullen takes our plates and strolls towards the couch. It looks soft and cushiony, just what I need after sex on hard, unforgiving wooden stairs.

  He mischievously responds, “It’s where the two blend together.”

  ***

  It’s late, but I’m home. Cullen has practice the rest of the week, so starting with my workday tomorrow, I’ll have time to focus on getting students started up and motivated for the school year. I’m bummed, though, that after some possible hit-or-miss encounters tomorrow, it will be a few days before Cullen and I can spend actual, quality time together again.

  Washing my face, I consider that some separation might be good for us. I need to think. Cullen should know the truth about my former life, what it was like with Anden, why there are times when I space out, flip out, and have nightmares. He’s just not going to want me assaulted, damaged, and essentially worthless. The “dark velvet” he thinks he sees is darker and rougher than he wants, I’m sure of it. Sometimes I can’t even deal with it.

  My sheets are fresh, clean, and missing the scent of my favorite sculpted Social Studies teacher. I grumbled the entire time I had to switch the linens for new ones. A little frustrated about it and a lot tired, I snuggle down into my sheets and bury my face into my pillow, sucking in a deep breath, hoping for a tiny draft of his clean soap or that undefinable scent of man Cullen carries around with him.

  Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Again, with the emotional teenage shit. His students probably sniff their shirtsleeves the same way after brushing by him in the hallway. That thought has me laughing and now I definitely feel like a crazy person, giggling alone and snorting pillows. Flustered, I turn on the TV, eager to eventually drift off to the Late, Late Show.

  Cullen

  I want to show Violet around, give her a tour of my house. She’s so content tucked into my side, though, with her head resting on my chest. My feet are up on the coffee table, and I’ve got a first rate view of the warm, smooth curve of Violet’s neck where it slopes into her shoulder. Staring at it for the last few commercial breaks, the pull is too strong to resist any longer. As if acting on its own drive, my hand lifts from where it is resting on her hip to draw lightly along the skin of her hairline. She shivers and I watch goosebumps pebble up along my path. She sinks farther into me. I feel her appreciation vibrate through her throat into my chest. She must like the sensation. I trace the outline of the back of her ear. She shifts and arches with a shiver.

  Violet leans back and looks up at me with big, round eyes. “Are you trying to get me off of you, Metz? Have you got something better to do? Football plays or something?”

  I grin at her, “Nope. Why?”

  “Cuz you’re tickling me!”

  Gasping, I cover my heart with my hand and try to sound astonished. “What? No, I’m innocent. You’re laying here on me, teasing me. What else could I do?”

  She sits up, narrowing her eyes at me, “Teasing you? With what? My neck?”

  I nod innocently.

  “Cullen Metz. You and that big-eyed, sweet little boy expression are full of shit!”

  She’s cross-legged on the sofa facing me with a rumpled tank top and crazy hair. From laying on my chest, her cheek is the color of the pink cotton candy found at the fair on a hot summer night that I lick off my fingers till the sticky is gone. My mouth starts to water. Violet’s eyes sparkle in amusement. I love it when she wars with me and teases me back.

  I bend my elbow and ruffle my own hair, then I rest my hand on my palm so I can just look at her. She’s fucking beautiful and she doesn’t even know it.

  I must stare too long because Violet’s smile fades and she squeezes my thigh, “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, I was just thinking.”

  “That it’s late and I should leave you alone?” she worries.

  “No, not at all. You can stay as long as you want. I don’t know how it will go over with you wearing those same clothes tomorrow, but who gives a shit, right?” I smile at her and she rolls her eyes.

  “I’m sure you and Roarke would have a great conversation about that on the field. And I bet Claire would just love it.”

  Her shoulders sag and she rolls back on her hips. Instantly, the glimmer in her eyes becomes dull and she starts biting her lower lip.

  “Hey,” I draw out the word as I sit forward and use my thumb to re
scue her skin from her teeth. “Elliot and I don’t talk about shit like that. I wouldn’t ever give him details about us, Violet, ok? And Claire? I told her that you’re my girlfriend and she needs to back off. She’s fine with it. That crush she had is over.”

  Her jaw rests in my palm. She looks up at me and nods once, “Ok, I trust you. I do have to go, though.”

  She gives me a little smile and presses her fingers into my wrist. I feel like my sternum caves in a little with the pressure. She’s the first woman I’ve hesitated to let leave. I think I’m in trouble.

  THIRTEEN

  Violet

  I’ve got the Top 40 rocking through my earbuds while I plan for the first month of AP Bio. I’m holed up in my room for our workday, relaxed in my black stretch capris and a t-shirt, tapping my flip-flop to the beat of “Strip That Down” when Claire walks in. I pull my earbuds out with a sigh but don’t stop typing. I’m in a zone and need to get my thoughts out for this research.

  “A little far from the Social Studies wing this morning.”

  “Thought I’d see how you are.”

  “Thanks, Claire, I’m fine. How are you?” I do my best not to sound bored and dismissive.

  She flips her wavy hair over her shoulder and looks around my room while I take a second to shake my head at her two-sizes-too-small top. I feel like I need to take her shopping to show her the difference between appropriate and whore.

  “Oh, I’m fine, too,” she scans my classroom. “It’s so…organized…in here.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Everything that belongs in here has it’s own place. No place, it gets thrown out.” My voice drops a little on the last sentence to emphasize my point. And she needs to get to hers soon.

  Her eyes flick over to mine. I can’t help but move this along, “Is there something I can do for you? This is the first time you’ve been in my room since I started teaching here and only, what, the second time we’ve talked? I’m far from stupid, Claire, but I am very busy.”

  She folds her arms, puffing out her chest a bit. It’s comical; she reminds me of a peacock but clearly, smirking will only piss her off, so I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself.

  “Cullen came to see me yesterday after our kickoff meeting.” I wait, expressionless. “He said you two are ‘together.’”

  She makes quotes with her bony fingers and now I’m pissed. Air quotes are a close equivalent to spitting on someone, in my opinion. They’re sarcastic, like Cullen attempted to portray last night. They’re also dismissive and I’ve had my fill of being treated like that.

  I release my cheeks, the humor I felt a minute ago is gone, and clench my jaw.

  She continues, “I’m just wondering if that’s kind of fast. I mean, you’re whole world just got turned upside down a few months ago. It can’t be healthy for you to add the stress of a new relationship on top of your husband dying and moving and a new school year starting. I’d just hate to see you or Cullen get hurt from this fling going bad and then having to see each other every day at school. Don’t you think that would be just awful?”

  At this point, I say a prayer of thanksgiving to the heavens above for the shit I’ve been through because if anything, it taught me restraint. I momentarily consider all the different ways I could lose my shit on Claire right now from stapling her face to tossing her down the stairwell. Fortunately, I know the game she’s playing and although I’m super pissed, I feel kinda sorry for her. My chair creaks as I lean back and fold my hands in my lap.

  “You seem awfully concerned with my business. And Cullen’s.”

  “Just trying to be a friend.” There’s the haughty smile I was waiting for.

  “Well, we have plenty of friends, but thanks. What we do need is some space and a Social Studies teacher, so if you can manage that kind of multitasking, everything should be fine.”

  She stares me down a second, then shrugs and starts to walk out.

  “Whatever. But think about it, Violet. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart smashed because you’re trying to forget that yours hurts.”

  “Yeah, ok, thanks for that,” I holler as she exits my room and saunters down the hall.

  What the hell? Is that what people think? I’m just with Cullen to get over my own heartache and because he’s fun and delicious? Does he think that?

  I’m staring at my computer screen, concentration broken. Renee appears in the doorway, “Wanna get lunch? I gotta get outta here. Second day back and my skin is already crawling. What the eff happened to you?”

  “Claire.”

  “Oh shit, now what?” Renee stands with her hands on her hips.

  “She made a good point.”

  “I doubt that. What’d she say?”

  “Besides that I’m under a lot of stress and shouldn’t be in a new relationship? That I’m only with Cullen to distract myself from my wounded heart, and he doesn’t deserve me breaking his.”

  “Wow, jealous much? That’s bitchy. How is that a good point?”

  “She’s right. He doesn’t deserve a broken heart.”

  “Are you planning on breaking it?”

  “No, but no one plans that shit.”

  “Are you using him?”

  I shake my head but then blow out a long breath. Renee sits down on one of my lab tables, folding her arms. “What aren’t you telling me, Violet?”

  “Ugh, I can’t do this,” I mutter as my head flops forward and thuds on my desktop.

  “Spill it, right now.”

  “Fine,” I tell the desk. “Remember that one week back in May when I kept coming into work looking like fucking shit? I was tired and ragged? Right before Anden died?”

  “Yeah, you’d had sleep deprivation torture and some shitty arguments.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “Oh my god, Violet. What did he do?”

  I sit up and look at Renee. Misery overwhelms me at having to confess to my best friend the horrible truth behind that entire week.

  “Sleep deprivation started it, but Anden went kinda crazy after that. The next night he… he woke me up in the middle of the night again but not for another lecture.”

  I close my eyes, but I can see everything clearly. I smell Anden’s tangy sweat, his stale breath rebounding off my neck. I hear my shorts ripping and the springs of the bed groaning with his weight as he climbs on. I feel my body go still, lifeless and dull, allowing it to happen as my mind wanders far away. I see the ugly walls and the even uglier picture of me, laying there, taking it.

  Renee’s arms wrap around me because she knows it’s something awful, something shameful and horrific, but I’m incapacitated. She swipes at my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I find tears between us. Surely, they’re not mine. I don’t cry.

  “He forced me to have sex, Renee. I said no, but he ripped off my clothes and stuck it in anyway.” She wipes my face again. Shit, they are mine.

  “He fucking raped you, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, was it really rape? Can you rape your wife? It’s my fault anyway. I’m difficult and uncooperative and suck at making him happy and…”

  “If you say you deserved it, I’m going to throw this stapler at you. And yes, a spouse can be raped. No means no, Violet.”

  I give her a weak smile, “Yeah, well, there’s more. The next day—“

  “When you had all the bruises and shit?” she interrupts.

  “Yeah. I went home and was really pissed, so I started working on the mulch beds. You know how I clean when I’m mad? Well, Anden came home and we got into an argument. The one that killed him. I killed him, Renee.”

  “Oh my god, Violet. There is no way this is your fault. Of course you had a fight after what he did to you. And it was his dumb ass that didn’t fix the fucking porch! Did you shove the rake in his back?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then there you go. He did it to himself. It was karma, fate, whatever getting back at him for all the evil shit he’s done t
o you.”

  “I’m still a horrible person, Renee.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Why?”

  I look at her wide-eyed, “I nearly giggled when the officer told me he was dead. Giggled! And I haven’t even been to the gravesite since the funeral.”

  Renee’s expression softens, and she holds my hands, clutching them tightly. “Of course you haven’t, honey, and that’s ok. You have every right to not visit that son of a bitch.”

  I lean forward to give her a hug, and she pats my back. For whatever reason, I needed her permission to make it ok.

  “Does Cullen know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Any of it?”

  “No,” I pull back.

  “Why?”

  “I have to work through it alone and he’ll think I’m disgusting and pitiful and he’ll run.”

  Renee folds her hands in her lap. “Don’t you think he’s got more invested in you than that? He’s liked you for, ummm, I don’t know, forever. Shouldn’t there be more hope for your relationship than that?”

  “Hope is bullshit, Renee. It’s imaginary. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I sniff and clear my throat after rolling my shoulders. If there’s anything I believe, it’s that there is no hope.

  “When you say ‘I hope so’, what you’re really saying is ‘I fear it won’t’, so hope is really just fear in disguise. I don’t want any part of that, so I don’t believe in hope. It doesn’t exist. I make my own way, so if I ignore all this shit and just move forward, a little at a time, eventually it will all fade into nothingness. It’s logical, right?”

  Renee studies my face thoroughly and knows she’s not going to get any further with me. My mind is made up; Cullen can’t know any details about Anden.