by Bria Leigh
I knew where to find Wilder. At the principal's office. He was sitting when I came in, and I took the spot next to him.
“Where’s Winston?”
He shrugged. “They sent him home.”
“Of course.” Winston was the nephew of the principal. He got away with murder.
I didn’t know what to say. I was used to the failed attempts at socializing with people our age. I think Wilder was too.
“He’s an ass, Vi.” He always reminded me of this whenever someone got to me. He didn’t want to see me cry. And he knew I would.
“How many more assholes can there be?” And the tears started to fall. Wilder put his arm around me. “I don’t know why she even made me go.”
“She just wanted you to have fun.”
“Well, this isn’t fun.” I wiped at my nose.
The principal stepped into the office. He laid eyes on us and sighed. “Wilder and Violet. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“He ripped my dress,” I said right away, defending Wilder was the only thing on my mind. “Just because I wouldn’t dance with him.”
“We don’t put hands on people at this school, young man.” He didn’t care what I had to say.
“Yes, sir.” Wilder agreed.
“I will be calling your mother in the morning,” he said. “Now get home both of you.”
“What about Winston?” I asked. Wilder grabbed me by the arm, pulling me toward the door. “That’s not fair, Mr. Young, and you know it.”
“Vi, let’s go. It doesn’t matter.”
“He’s going to call your mom,” I told him, refusing to leave the office. “Wilder was only protecting me.”
The principal brought his hands to his hips. “I could suspend him. I’m only calling his mother.”
Wilder wouldn’t let me say anything else. He got me out of there. When we were alone in the hallway, he yelled at me.
“Stop trying to get them to understand.”
“None of that was your fault. I’m tired of you always getting blamed for everything.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he argued.
“Yes, it does, Wilder.” It mattered because he was the best person I knew. And as I watched him kick the trash cans on the way out of school, I knew that this boy that protected me since we were six was amazing. He never shied away from being amazing the entire time I knew him. He got better every year.
He shielded himself from my emotions the same way he did since we were six, behind his brown hair. Only now he was different—he was transforming into this adult version of himself. He was handsome now. I could only imagine what a few more years would do for him.
We were growing up and going through a whirlwind of emotions and changes. Things weren’t so simple between us anymore. Wilder was a guy. I know he noticed that I now had boobs. I wasn’t the stick-thin brat I once was. I was turning into a woman.
Not only were we changing physically, but we were tangled up in problems, we didn’t even know how to address as kids going into their teen years. Would it even be the same? Would Wilder still want to hang around me when all I did was cry all the time and need rescuing? Would he want to hang out when the sight of my body caused him to get a hard-on? I didn’t know.
I was afraid of losing the only friend I ever had.
“Why does it matter, Vi?”
He wanted to hear me say the words. Words we both soundlessly thought our whole lives. “Because you’re the best person I know.”
He ran a hand through his hair, mowing over what I just said. “That’s pretty lame if I’m the best person you know. I’m not that great of a person.”
“Yeah, right. You’re the best person I know.”
“Shut it.”
“Seriously. You’re the best.”
He laughed. “Thanks. You’re pretty rad yourself.”
He did something we hadn’t done since we were kids. He grabbed my hand, tangling my fingers with his. And we walked the whole way home, holding on to each other.
No need to say anything else. We both said all we needed to say.
Wilder
“I DON’T THINK HE IS going to be able to walk out of here,” Saint laughed, watching as I downed the next beer and took the two shots sitting in front of me. The beer and liquor had done its job, fucking me up and walking out that would happen because I was a professional party boy. I never met an alcohol that could defeat me.
“He’s on his sixteenth shot,” Joel announced to the party-goers all there for my twenty-first birthday. The plan was to make it to twenty-one shots before the night was over, and I was well on my way.
I slapped a hand down on the table. “Bring em on boys. I have all night.” I eyed the brunette playing pool, admiring her ass in her shorts. She noticed and smiled back.
“I have to piss, and I will be back for the rest of these shots,” I announced to the room, standing up.
“He’s going to puke. Somebody watch him,” Saint said.
I made it a few steps. “Fuck off. This guy doesn’t puke.”
All my friends rolled their eyes. They all knew that wasn’t true. One time I puked on a girl I wanted to hook up with. That night didn’t end well.
I made it to the bottom of the stairs and started climbing. I kept a hand firmly planted against the wall, so I didn’t fall on my ass, trying to get upstairs for the bathroom.
When I got to the top and reached for the handle, the door flew open, and I fell face-first into the tits of some lucky lady.
Only she didn’t see it that way, and she screamed. She screamed because her best friend’s face was buried in her tits — not a place for me to be. We’d talked about it before. Violet couldn’t imagine us ever sharing an intimate relationship. Sure, we made out a couple of times throughout the years, but it was more for the hell of it than anything serious. She was afraid of falling in love—or loving anyone. So, when she told me I was her favorite person, that meant a lot, and I took it seriously.
She was wearing this off the shoulders yellow dress with sunflowers on it, and her hair was pulled high up on her head with a white scrunchie, the curls loosely spilling all around her like a crown that highlighted just how beautiful and perfect she was.
And she smelled like coconut body spray, the same damn spray she used since we were fourteen. Everything I owned held a hint of Violet when we were kids. But now that she left for school, I could only wish for things to smell like her again.
“You’re drunk,” she pointed out, eyeing me. Her green eyes were happy to be looking at me even if I was drunk.
“And you’re back.” I pointed out. After many growth spurts, I now towered over Violet. We were no longer face to face when we spoke. I was a strapping six foot four, and she a measly five-foot-two give or take a quarter inch that she liked to argue about whenever she got a chance.
With puberty came attention over the years. It wasn’t a secret most women loved me. Violet admitted how much it bothered her our freshman year when she overheard some girls talking about me in the bathroom. I assured her it would be fine. I wasn’t looking for a serious girlfriend.
“Yep. Here I am. Happy birthday.” She pulled me in for a hug and I obliged, squeezing her tight. I lifted her off the ground, relishing having her back in my arms again. She was my other fucking half since day one.
Growing up did a number on her as well; if it was possible, she grew even more beautiful than she already was. She bloomed into this whole person—a woman — a walking talking angel sent from some magical place. Violet made me nuts. I wanted Violet in every way a man could want a woman.
We’d been friends just about our whole lives, and she was the only person who never did anything to disappoint me. She was perfect.
And she only let me kiss her twice. I never forgot either kiss. Or the way her lips felt. I imagined doing it again every night for years, and then I gave up and started hooking up with other girls to get her out of my head—it didn’t work that well.
When Violet told me she was going to college away from home, it broke my heart. We had been inseparable our entire lives. She knew everything about me—the good and the bad. Sure, I made new friends. Guys that understood how to have a good time and find chicks. But there was only one Violet. And she was standing in front of me right now.
“What are you doing here?” We made our way into the kitchen, and I watched Violet collect empty red solo cups and locate a trash bag under my sink. She didn’t like messes.
“It’s your birthday,” she insisted. I knew that wasn’t true. She missed my birthday last year because of school and the funny thing about birthdays. They fell on the same day every year.
“What’s up?” I watched her focus on cleaning and less on my words. And I used the counter to hold my massive frame up. I wasn’t about to fall over and prove I was a pussy to everyone downstairs.
“Why does something have to be up for me to want to see my best friend?”
“Because I know you. And going to college has always been a big deal.”
“That’s not true. Your birthday is a big deal.”
I shook my head. “I’m not buying it.”
She made a face sticking her tongue out at me.
Saint interrupted before I could retaliate. “Violet Kidman. In the flesh. Did you come to party?” Saint wrapped his pervy little arms around her inhaling her hair. He shot me a look, a big grin on his face.
“No, I didn’t come to party.”
Saint raised his red solo cup. “What’s one drink between friends? It’s Wilder's birthday.”
“Herpes,” she suggested.
“Ooh. Someone just got owned by Vi.” I high fived her, busting a gut at Saint’s expense. He was used to it. Neither one of us ever let him get over on us easy. He was a sleaze, and everyone knew it.
“Hey, I’ll take that as a compliment coming from her.” He grinned, taking a drink. “You know you never talked to me, not even once in high school?”
I dropped my gaze at the mention of high school. Violet was treated like shit by the entire school. She didn’t have to do anything to deserve it. And I know she didn’t like bringing it up.
“That’s because you were too busy laughing at me to deserve me talking to you,” she shot back. She looked at me. “Wilder, I think I want a drink.”
I pushed off the counter and went to the refrigerator opening it up. “Beer?”
She shrugged. “That’s fine.”
I handed it over and watched her crack it open. She brought it to her shiny pink lips. I loved it when she wore lip gloss.
“I decided to drop out of school.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“This is my cue to leave you two alone,” Saint headed for the door.
“Don’t act so shocked. People drop out of school.”
“Not you. You don’t drop out of school. What’s the fucking problem?” I tugged at my hair, frustrated that she was letting her dreams slip away so quickly.
“What’s your problem? You have been partying every weekend. Mom says, you hardly show up to help with the lawn anymore.” She was making this about me because she didn’t want to talk about her.
“I don’t have a problem. I’m doing just fine. It’s my birthday.” I stumbled back into the counter, and she nodded at her assumption of how wasted I was. “I’m not wasted. I slipped.”
“Whatever Wilder. You have way more going for yourself than this. You should be in college, not drinking your life away and sleeping with anything that bats their eyelashes at you.” She glared at me.
“I thought you said you didn’t care who I slept with?”
“I don’t care.”
I smirked. “Funny. Because that look on your face, you only get when you’re fucking annoyed.”
She sighed. “You need to do better.”
“You need to do better,” I countered. “College has always been your number one priority. What changed?”
She looked away from me. “Forget I said anything. I thought you would be the one person who was happy about this.” She chucked her beer in my sink and headed for the door.
“Vi,” I called after her. What the fuck was her problem? Since when was she so sensitive?
The basement door opened, music spilled into the kitchen. And Saint yelled at me. “Come back to the party, bro. Five more shots to go!”
I should have gone after Violet. But I was drunk, and it was my birthday. Whatever she was angry about, it was probably better she got some time alone to think about it. Sometimes things didn’t seem so awful the next day.
Violet
I HEADED DOWN THE STAIRS of Wilder’s house, fighting the tears. I wanted to cry, but I wasn’t going to until I was home. I didn’t want to be caught out in the middle of the night, sobbing like some stupid idiot. I cried my whole life—I was sick of it. It didn’t change anything. I’d cry when the kids at school made fun of me—they still made fun of me the next day.
I was dropping out of school because the truth was, I couldn’t handle it. Just like I thought, the world was a cruel fucking place and without Wilder, it made little sense. I couldn’t figure it out. I hated my roommate. I hated the way my professor looked at me—because I knew he wanted something I wasn’t willing to give. I hated taking cabs everywhere. And most of all, I hated that I wasn’t just across the street from my best friend anymore.
Wilder was my everything, and it wasn’t how I wanted things to turn out. I avoided falling in love like criminals avoided the police. The universe put Wilder in my life when I needed him the most. If not for Wilder being there, I wouldn’t have made it.
And that made me feel pathetic. I couldn’t survive without another person. I wasn’t strong enough to take what life handed to me. That wasn’t the person I wanted to be—but that was who I was.
How did I explain that to Wilder or anyone? Why couldn’t he get it? He didn’t even act like he missed me anymore. Whenever I checked Instagram or Facebook, all I saw posted were pictures of him partying with Saint and the rest of the guys who stopped trying for anything better after high school. Saint had his parents to fall back on. Wilder didn’t. He had to work for everything he had. Seeing him happy working a shitty construction job, not going anywhere angered me so much. He could do anything he wanted. Why didn’t he want anything?
I darted across the street to get back to my mom’s house. And I practically ran right into the front of a speeding car. The horn blasted, and I jumped back just in time. Saint’s face was pure white. He had almost hit me.
“Vi! What the fuck.” He pulled over and climbed out. “I almost ran you the fuck over.”
I knew he wanted an answer. What was I going to say? I was so upset that Wilder didn’t welcome me home with open arms that you almost hit me with your car. Of course, I wasn’t going to say that.
I waited for him to tell me how stupid I was.
“Why’d you leave the party?” He met up with me on the sidewalk in front of my house.
“It was a long drive. I’m tired.” I lied.
“You came back for him, didn’t you?”
What was it to him? It was none of his business.
“Saint, mind your business. Go drive into a tree or something,” I snapped.
He chuckled. Not because it was funny but because he saw me the same way they all saw me. As the butt of the joke, the girl that was easy to pick on. “That’s no way to talk to Wilder’s best bud.”
I cringed at the thought of it. “Yeah, okay.”
“What, you thought while you were in college he would sit home and pine after you?”
“No. I didn’t think that. Why are you such a dick?”
When he noticed he was getting to me, his blue eyes lit up. Just a little more, and he would have Vi crying just like old times. “He’s back there right now, banging some blonde in the bathroom.” He jerked his thumb at his shoulder for extra emphasis.
“Great.” I looked at my house. Mo
m left the living room light on for me. She knew I would be home late. “Anything else?”
“But if you want to come back over later just shoot me a text, I’ll let you know when they finish up.” He patted my back and climbed back in his car with his stupid grin and sped off down the street.
I climbed the stairs to my house and went inside, slamming the door in anger. I always ran to Wilder and told him when I was upset. But not tonight. He was busy fucking girls in his bathroom.
Mom was already asleep. I plopped down on the couch and snapped on the television, grabbing the bag of Cheetos she left on the coffee table. My phone dinged next to me. I licked Cheeto dust off my fingers and picked it up to see who it was. It was Wilder. He wanted to know if I got home okay.
I tossed the phone back on the couch and went back to the Cheetos. Mid fuck he wanted to ask me if I made it home alright. If I was safe, I was just fine without him.
I wasn’t going to be the friend who ruined her friend’s birthday over her issues. For once, I was going to deal with my problems on my own.
Violet
I DROPPED THE LAST of my things on the floor in my bedroom and let out a sigh. I was back at college, living with my roommate. Back to the life I didn’t want.
I walked into the living area. And Kat looked up from her computer. “Hey, Violet.”
She was so indifferent with just about everything, a total wacky bitch. Some days I didn’t know if she was going to cut me in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. I told myself she just had a lot on her plate with college. And to give it time and she would ease up. But half the school year came and went, and we were hardly friends.
I never told her I dropped out and was never coming back, so it was a lot easier to come back again.
“How was the trip home?”
“Great. Saw my mom, saw Wilder, and then I came back.” I left out all the parts where I balled my eyes out for three days in my bedroom and dodged Wilder on my way back.