Chapter Six
Silent Observer
There you are again leaning over my shoulder
observing every move I make.
You see my slightest twitch,
hear my stomach begging for food,
smell my delicate perfume.
I wonder what you’re thinking.
You’re able to read everything I write,
you see every mistake I make.
I hear you laughing at me in your mind.
I know you sense how nervous you make me.
I’m sure you enjoy making me shake
with fear of what you think of me.
I’d love to watch over your shoulder
watching every move you make,
mocking your slightest twitch,
laughing at your hungry stomach,
smelling your raunchy perfume.
I’d read every word you write,
correcting every mistake you make,
laughing at you in my mind,
making you nervous.
I can’t do that, though, and I won’t.
See, I’m different than you,
and refuse to stoop down to that level.
Deep down I wonder
if you’re crying out for help,
wishing someone would come to your aid.
So you can watch me, mock me, say what you may.
I’ll observe in silence and hope
you’re able to find yourself one day.
^^^
The ball whips past Janna’s head seconds after I slam the paddle against it. I cover my mouth for a second, only laughing once I realize she’s okay.
“Watch it, girl!” She flicks her head aside the moment it’s about to hit her.
“Sorry.” I giggle as I slide my paddle across the table. “I think I’m done.”
“No fair! You’ve won every game. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“I gave you plenty of chances. You just suck.” I stick my tongue out playfully as I make my way to a big beanbag chair and plop down. “I still think they were good games. You came close a few times.”
I’m not good at any sports, but I can sure kick butt in Ping Pong. My dad and I used to play a lot when I was a kid. Over the years he stopped being so active and our games were tossed to the wayside. I still love to play, though, and sometimes butt the table up against the wall to play myself. You do what you need to in order to be happy in this world. That’s what it takes in mine.
“I have to ask,” Janna says as she squeezes in next to me. “Any run-ins with Olivia lately?”
“Surprisingly, no. She’s been okay, giving me the silent treatment, which is better than what she was giving me. I’d rather she never spoke to me at all so this is perfect.” I think it’s been a week since she said anything to me. I’ve taken to changing in the bathroom or under my covers to avoid anything like last time. When we do see each other, we don’t speak a word.
“I still think you should have confronted her.”
“No. No way. I don’t know where I would end up if I did that. She seems pretty crazy. The post is long gone, so who really cares.” Well, it’s not gone, but it’s so far down on the page that I’m sure no one is taking the time to scroll through it. No one has said anything since those girls so I assume I’m in the clear now. I still feel bad for those whose photos showed up to push mine further down the page. The Olivias of the world won’t give up until everyone who doesn’t live up to their standard of pretty is hurt.
“There’s a party again this weekend. This time at Lance Meier’s place.”
“You’ve been to like four parties in the past six days.” Not that I’m keeping track or anything. It seems like every day, though, she’s asking me if I want to go with her. After that first party I’m not sure if the scene is right for me. Besides, I don’t want to end up drinking again and with everyone around me doing so, it makes it difficult to resist.
“Don’t judge me. So I like to have fun. I don’t stuff my face in a notebook writing poems all day.”
“You know about that?” She knows I write poetry, but I never realized she knew about my notebook, my three subject spiral one I carry with me most of the time. When I’m off campus, I hide my small notepad in my back pocket.
“Of course I do. I’ve seen you in the Quad before writing. Hey—I get it. Your poetry is to you what my art is to me. But get out there. Live life. You have to be low on material.”
I don’t know what she means by that. Writing daily doesn’t require me to be in attendance at a party every day. I’ve written a poem a day for years now. Gosh, I must have been in second grade when I wrote my first one. The daily entries began in high school. My poetry helps me through, allows me to forget about the people with negative things to say about me, taking me into a world only I know. I may not be Emily Dickinson, Maya Angelou, or Sylvia Plath, but I’m not trying to be them. I only want to be me, my words on the page helping me accept who that is.
“No one wants me there anyway.” I mean, we’re both thinking it I’m sure. I lucked out that Jesse wanted to even converse with me. But it was only him. Janna even left to hang out with Paul. If I go, I’ll be by myself again.
“That’s not true. I want you there.”
She may think she does. We’re friends, after all, and I’m so grateful to say that. Tina probably was the closest I came to a friend, and even then we didn’t spend time together. I bring Janna’s fun meter down, though. She wants to drink and smoke pot. I’d rather stay in the corner where I belong and observe. She’s pleading with her eyes, though. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Do.” She emphasizes the word do, slapping me on the knee. “Besides, I think Jesse is going to be there.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“What does that have to do with you? Come on, dude is hot and he’s into you.”
“No, he’s not.” I doubt anyone of Jesse’s caliber would ever be interested in me. Besides, I’m already on Olivia’s bad side. She wants me to stay away from Jesse, and that’s easy since we have no classes together, and I’ve only met him a handful of times. I’m not throwing myself into a situation that can make things worse.
“Whatever you say.”
Janna is crazy. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “You’re going to nag me until I go, so I might as well give in now.” Being the doormat is something I’ve gotten good at. They should sell copies of me at Target. I’d probably be a bestseller.
“You’re damn right. You’ve made a good decision.”
I hope so because so far everything that could go wrong has.
Lance Meier rents a nice place for a college student. Janna says his parents are loaded and pay the rent for him. I want to comment about how nice it must be to have that capability but stop myself. It’s easy to forget that even though this Lance guy may be set for life, his actual life may not be perfect at all.
I recognize many of the people from the last party, but most I’ve never seen before. A lot of them look a lot older than college-aged, too. How does Janna even hear about these parties? “Stay with me, okay?” I don’t want her going anywhere.
“Are you going to make me hold your hand, too?”
“Maybe.” I wink at her to let her know I’m joking, though part of me does want to hold her hand. I’m not a fan of parties. The music is too loud, I can smell people smoking pot, and overall I’m out of place. I don’t expect Janna to understand that though. Everyone flocks to her. She’s not the most popular girl, but she’s not eating lunch in a bathroom stall, either. She’s Switzerland. Completely neutral. Everyone likes her. What’s not to like? She’s funny, pretty, and though she may miss a lot of class because she’s sleeping it off, she always hands her stuff in on time and pulls out decent grades.
“Oh look, there’s Paul. We should go say hi.” She jiggles next to me.
“Are you two together?” I wondered this since the last party, and I’m really curious to know.
“If you mean is he my boyfriend, no. I’m not into using labels. If you want to know if he and I like to have a good time together, then the answer is yes. Isn’t there anyone you ‘spend time with’?” She puts air quotes around spend time with. “I mean, I would think it would be Jesse, but you seem pretty against that idea.”
If Janna only knew. Not only have I never slept with a guy, but I’ve never even kissed a guy with tongue. There was my dad’s best friend’s son, Brian, who I kissed in the seventh grade on the lips once. Then there was Craig Vaughn who kissed my cheek when I was nine. Unless my aunt’s dog slobbering on me one time counts, I have a lot of catching up to do. “Let’s just say I’ve never had a bunch of guys lining up to go out with me.”
“Stop it. I don’t believe that for one second.”
“You can’t be serious.” It’s obvious I’m not the belle of the ball. Of all the things I’ve considered myself in life, never once did I consider myself beautiful. “You’re lucky. With that hair and those eyes, I’m sure you always were dating someone in school.”
“Nope. Just Grant and then Tyler. After Tyler cheated on me, I decided I’m never going to date again. Flings. That’s it.”
So that explains who Paul is to her. A fling. Casual sex. I can’t say hooking up with someone is something I would do since I’ve never been given the opportunity, but I don’t think it is. The chance would never arise, anyway, so I don’t think about the outcome too often.
Paul didn’t wait for Janna to approach him, bouncing over to us as soon as he laid eyes on her. “Hey, girl! I’m glad you made it. How are you today, Violet? Should we put an air mattress in the bathroom?” Janna punches him in the arm and tells him to be quiet.
“No, thank you. I plan on staying sober tonight.” Is this the impression people have of me now? Have I been labeled that girl? Even if I did end up wasted in the bathroom again, why is it anyone’s business? I don’t like everyone guessing what I’m going to do or how I’m going to act.
“That’s what you said last time,” Janna calls my bluff. Except I plan on keeping my promise to myself this time. Drinking again will only lead to another situation, and people making more assumptions of me. Janna can dance on the table top with everyone recording her with their phones and posting online and she couldn’t be happier about it. One incident that hardly qualifies as an incident happens and like that my naked body is everywhere for everyone to judge. If I drink, I’m sure I’ll find a creative new way to humiliate myself.
“We’ve got some of the good stuff in the back. Care to join us?”
Janna pouts her lips at me. She knows me well enough already not to invite me. I may be prissy to some, but I’m not drinking, and I’m certainly not going to do any drugs. Janna wants my permission though. If I ask her to stay, she will. I don’t doubt that. That’s enough for me.
“Go ahead. Have a good time. I’ll be fine.” I almost doubt myself, but I’m a big girl. I can people watch if that’s what I have to do to get through the night.
I grab a hold of her arm before she walks away. “Find me later. I’ll be sober and will take us back to the dorm. If you need me, I’ll probably be sitting on the couch over there all by myself.”
“Oh stop it. You will not be by yourself. I’m sure that Jesse will join you.” I wish she’d drop it already, but I’m quite certain that’s not going to happen. “Go. Have fun.” Paul takes Janna’s hand and they disappear to the back of the house.
I flow through the traffic of college students, glancing at everyone I see, trying to put names to faces. I almost approach a girl I think I know, but quickly realize we’ve only passed each other on campus. I don’t want to make a fool of myself trying to chat with someone like I know them if we’ve never even had a conversation or even exchanged a hello.
Finally, I recognize a face from one of my classes. I struggle with the name. It begins with an S, I’m sure of that. She’s tall with dark, curly hair cut just below her ears. Her cheeks are always rosy, and a smile never seems to leave her face. Out of nowhere her name comes to me.
“Stephanie!” I approach her, toning down my smile so I don’t look creepy. She’s in my English class, and we’ve had a few conversations. She doesn’t come across as someone who goes out of her way to make people feel bad. My first impression is she’s a nice person and wouldn’t think to do the things Olivia does. She gets an A in my book for that.
“Violet, right?”
I nod, happy she’s remembered by name. Even though she doesn’t know I struggled with hers, I’m embarrassed I almost forgot it.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
Her comment throws me off. What does she mean? Is she referring to my lack of popularity and the fact someone invited me to a party? Or is she considering me someone so focused on schoolwork that I don’t attend parties? What is her impression of me? I think about this too much.
“My friend Janna wanted me to come along. She’s off with her boyfriend.”
I know he’s not really her boyfriend, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to call him. Is she with her friend with benefits? The man she sleeps with from time to time? A fuck buddy? Boyfriend is so much easier.
“Want a drink? You don’t have one yet.” She points to my empty hands.
“No. I’m the designated driver tonight.” I will be every night. For the rest of my life. Better safe than sorry.
“I love this song.” She points her finger to the ceiling as Shawn Mendes comes on. With her drink in her hand, she sashays to the music, and I admit I look kind of silly standing there while she dances. I move my body to the right, and then to the left. I do this a few times before I realize I look like I’m learning how to dance in sixth-grade gym.
As the chorus comes on, Stephanie jumps up and down and yells with the music. Some others join her, and before I can even say goodbye, she’s lost in a group of people dancing.
“I’ll dance with you.”
I spin around to see Jesse. His hair is tied back in a bun, his sparkling eyes pulling me to him, his lashes going on for days.
“I don’t dance.” And I’m not making a fool out of myself in front of him.
“Well, I know that. What you were doing wasn’t dancing. You gave it a good shot though.”
“I’ve never been much of a dancer,” I tell him as I lower my head. I went to a few dances in middle school but didn’t attend any in high school. Prom night I went to the movies by myself. I had a better time there than I would have at the dance. At least I tell myself that.
He touches a finger to my chin, and I lift my head up. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment I forget how to breathe. “You can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t you ever forget that.”
He drops his hand from my chin, and I’m afraid my head will fall down again, but I keep it up. “The only dancing I’ve ever really done was during gym class or the privacy of my own bedroom.”
“Well, if that is how they taught you to dance in grade school, it’s a wonder how you’re even in college.”
He makes me laugh, and comfort washes over me. The music slows down, and a slow song plays. “This is more my pace.” I don’t need to think too much or learn choreographed moves.
“Well, then, shall we?” He reaches his hand out, and I hesitate for a moment before I take it. I hope he can’t tell I’m sweating. He lifts my left hand to his right shoulder, and I keep a small gap between us. I don’t know how close he wants me to be. Or how close I want to be. I can feel his heart pounding against his rock hard chest. I wonder what it looks like underneath the shirt he’s wearing. My entire body is throbbing, and I feel as though I am floating outside of myself. We are the only ones in the room, it seems, and I’m able to drown out everything in the background. It’s me, Jesse, and John Legend. I don’t think I can ask for more.
In a moment, Jesse’s hand is across the small of my back, and he pulls me closer to him. My breathing quickens when we’re pressed together. I look up, and he looks down at me. We make eye contact, and before I know it, he’s leaning into me, his lips on top of mine. I gasp as they touch me, every part of me exploding. His tongue works its way between my lips into my mouth, and I’m surprised how easy it all comes to me. I wrap my arms around his neck and take a hold of a few loose strands of his hair. I don’t want him to stop kissing me. Ever. I’ve waited my entire life for a moment like this. Is it too much to ask for it to go on forever?
For that minute, I forget everyone around us. I embrace this moment and everything it is. A boy is kissing me, I’m kissing him back, and this isn’t a joke. Jesse presses harder against me, but I end the kiss, pulling away from him.
This can’t happen. As much as I want it—and I do want it—Olivia taps at my brain, her words of caution, or perhaps threat, ever so present in this moment.
“What’s the matter? Was it a bad kiss?”
No. It was the most perfect kiss in the whole world. “No. It’s your sister.”
“My sister? What about her?”
I’m silent, not sure how to tell him. Not sure if I should tell him. Would he even believe me? I have no evidence she took the photo of me though I can one hundred percent say she confronted me about him. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to come between siblings.
“What did she say to you?” His voice deepens as his words lengthen. Through gritted teeth, he pleads, and then demands, for me to tell him.
“Well,” I hesitate, wondering how much to say. As much as I want to call her out for the photo, I’m not going there. “She told me to stay away from you.” That’s enough information.
He covers his mouth with his right hand and slides his hand down as he shakes his head. “Damn her!” He paces in the small area we danced in. “Screw my sister. I have news for you—she doesn’t make my decisions.” He stops pacing, touching the side of my face before kissing me again. I want to pull away, afraid Olivia may see us, and at the same time not caring if she does. She can’t hurt me more than she already has. At least I don’t think so.
“Jesse.” I whisper his name, knowing he can’t hear me over the music. I say it again, louder this time. “Jesse, what if she does something?”
“What’s she going to do? I like you, Vi. A lot. I’ll be damned if I’m letting my sister stand in my way of being with you.”
If Jesse’s not worried, I shouldn’t be either. I’ve let worry consume me my entire life. I’ve allowed the things people have said, thought, and did affect me too much. The time has come for me to spread my wings and emerge from the chrysalis. I’m tired of hiding away from the world, scared to show myself. Am I going to live my life afraid of the Olivias of the world?
I press my lips against Jesse’s again, ready to prove myself, yet I find my eyes open and still on the lookout for Olivia.