Chapter Nineteen
From Within
unexpected shivers
become a fragrance
kissable
sometimes it escapes
but you still know
it’s there
embrace your inner beauty
be ORIGINAL
be YOURSELF
be
YOU
^^^
I planned on going to the Annual Poetry Festival with Jesse. I even picked out a gorgeous dress to wear, and we were going to skip the fancy dinner and have a more intimate one. Since we’ve broken up, Janna offers to go as my plus one, so we make a girl’s night out of it.
After a quick dinner at a local restaurant, we make our way to the hall the awards ceremony is being held. Once inside, we leave our jackets near the entryway and go into the hall. It’s amazing, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. We find our name tags and the spot where we are sitting.
We’re at a table with Professor Howard and his wife, I assume, and a few others from my class. The second my butt hits the chair my nerves take over. I can’t believe I’m here. What if I lose? Or win? If I win I have to go up on stage, accept an award, and speak in front of all these people. I wrap my hand around the glass of cold water in front of me and take a few gulps. No. I’m getting ahead of myself.
“I’m glad you could join us, Ms. Duncan. You, too, Ms. Melton. I’m surprised you didn’t enter the contest.”
“You?” I don’t think she’s in any creative writing courses. She’s not once mentioned writing in all of our conversations. How does Mr. Howard know she writes poetry, and how do I not know?
“Yeah. I dabble. Sorry, I never told you.”
“I’ve known Janna since she was a wee little girl. My wife works over at the community library and Janna would come in almost every day. Some days she’d sit and read for hours, others she would draw, and those few days in between, she’d write. I couldn’t convince her to take my class this year. Maybe next year.”
“Maybe.” Janna smiles at him, and I’m glad I’ve learned something new about her.
The ceremony begins shortly thereafter, and I’m delighted as I watch winners accept their awards. No one is giving a speech, only walking on stage and accepting the award and sitting back down. My body can relax knowing I don’t have to talk back to an audience of people judging me.
We’re close to intermission and they haven’t announced my category yet. I need to use the bathroom, and I don’t think I can hold it much longer. “Excuse me, but I have to use the ladies room.” Janna offers to go with me, but I’ll be fine.
I walk out of the room into the hall. I haven’t been in this building before and have to search around for the bathroom. Once I find it, I swing into the first stall and don’t waste anytime relieving myself.
Mid-stream, the main bathroom door flies open and I hear someone race to the last stall, slam it shut, her breaths fast and heavy. She’s practically panting.
I finish up, exit the stall, and wash my hands. I should say something. But I don’t know this person so maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t think she’s crying. She’s upset, though. That much is obvious.
What if I were in that stall, afraid and alone? I think back to all those times in school I locked myself in a stall crying. The people on the outside of the door didn’t think to say anything to me. A simple acknowledgment of my pain may have changed my life. Someone showing concern could have had a profound effect.
Screw it. I’m doing it.
I approach the stall with caution as though any minute she could come flying out the door and tackle me. I put my hand on the cold, tan door, and take it off right away. Instead, I cross my hands over themselves. “Are…are you okay?”
“Go away. I’m fine.”
I press my lips together and turn around to walk out the door. The woman sucks in so much air she cries out.
“You need help. Please, let me in.”
“No. I’m fine.”
She’s not okay. These aren’t the noises of someone who is okay. She won’t let me in, so I don’t have a choice. I kick off my heels, stick my face close to the cold, hard floor, and push myself under the door. Squished in between the toilet and the side of the stall is Olivia.
“Olivia, you’ll be fine.” I unlock the door and swing it open so there’s more space. “What’s happening?”
“I’m having a panic attack. I’ll be okay. Just leave me alone!”
She won’t look at me. Her eyes are closed and her head is against the wall. Her hair is wet from all the sweat. I pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1.
“What are you doing? I’m fine!”
I ignore her. I don’t care if she says she’s fine or not. Nothing is happening to her on my watch. I don’t care who it is in front of me, enemy or not, I’m not letting a person who is hurt sit there in pain.
“I’m staying with you until help arrives.”
“Why?”
“Why? So you don’t have to be here alone.”
She doesn’t say anything back. She’s breathing in and out like she’s in a Lamaze class. Should she keep breathing like this or should I talk to her and try to calm her down?
“I’m surprised to see you here. Why are you at this event?”
“My friend Erin was nominated for an award. Funny enough, she’s up against you.”
“Oh?” I didn’t even bother to look at the nomination list. Erin is in my class and we’ve spoken a few times. If I had to guess Erin’s friends, Olivia wouldn’t be on the list. Erin is one of the nice ones. I think anyway.
“Yeah. And she hasn’t shut up about her nomination since we arrived.” She pushes herself back up against the wall since she’s fallen a little. “It’s like if she wins this award she’s automatically better than me. Just because I have won nothing in my life doesn’t make me a loser, right?”
I swallow—loud—as I listen to Olivia spill her emotions onto me, and with every sentence, she’s panicking even more.
“Right?” She yells at me, her eyes closed.
“Yeah, right. It doesn’t.” Olivia needs someone to take her side. This is why she does the things she does, to make herself seem more powerful. This is different though. She’s in this bathroom sitting on a hard, dirty floor, and she’s not trying to push me down to bring her up. The way her friend is acting is causing her pain. I don’t want to see her—anyone—in pain.
“Are you okay?” Her cheeks have reddened to an alerting shade, and when she opens her eyes, they’re rolling back and forth.
“I’m a little faint.”
Okay, if she passes out, she’s at least against a wall right now. So that’s safe, right? She could fall to the right and then hit her head. I crawl over and sit next to her.
“Why are you almost on top of me?”
“There’s not a lot of room here. If you pass out, I want to be next to you so you fall on me instead of slamming your head against the stall next to you. That seems like a good idea, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
The next thing I know, her head falls onto my shoulder.
Moments after Olivia passes out, paramedics arrive. They take her off to the hospital for observation. Someone needs to call Jesse, and that someone seems to be me.
I hold my phone in my hand, unsure if I dial his number, will he even answer? Olivia said that day she was blocking my number so I couldn’t even attempt to call him anymore. Well, I won’t know unless I try. I scan through my contacts until I find his name and press the call button.
I put the phone to my ear slowly.
It’s ringing. With every ring that goes unanswered, I worry. Someone has to get the message to him. If needed, Janna will do it for me. She’s waiting in the car for me as I stand out in the cold making this call. I don’t know why but calling him in front of her is something I can’t do.
“Hello?”
I almost drop the phone on the ground when I hear his voice, scared of how he’ll respond when he realizes it’s me. “Jesse! Don’t hang up! It’s important.”
“Violet.” When he says my name I close my eyes, imagining myself sinking into him, his touch erasing away any pain, any fear, any doubt. “I’m not hanging up. I knew it was you.”
Of course, he did. Olivia didn’t block my number, and my name came up on the screen when I called. He picked up knowing it was me. Even though he didn’t want to talk to me, to hear me out, something within him told him to answer my call. Maybe there’s still a chance. Maybe I haven’t lost him.
He repeats my name, snapping me out of my daydream and back into this reality where I tell him the news about his sister. The person he loves. The person I hate.
“Jesse, Olivia is in the hospital.” My voice cracks as I tell him this, and for a moment I think I may cry.
“She what?”
“Don’t worry. She’ll be okay.” I need to reassure him she’s not in any danger. “She had a panic attack and passed out. I was with her the entire time.”
“You were?”
“Of course,” I whisper as if there should be any doubt I’d do anything for him, even help his sister.
“Thank you for calling.”
“Of course.” Is that the only phrase I can say to him? “You should go see her.”
“Yes, thanks. I’ll do that now.”
I give him the information and disconnect the call. Just like that, he’s gone again.