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“But it’s not fair to you. You do an act of kindness for me, who has treated you in the worst way, and all you get from it is an argument with your father and a sudden moving to the other side of America,” I explain, furrowing my brows and pinning my arms to my stomach.
“The argument between me and my father isn’t your fault, Violet. He went through my phone without my permission, that’s what he did wrong. And I don’t expect anything from you because of those messages. I did it because I wanted to, not to use it later on for some favor. I don’t want you to think of it as something against you.” The last sentence is said in a more deep and genuine voice. Another wave of warmth flows through my body. “Why are you so worried about me leaving anyway?Wouldn’t it be better for you if my dad and I were farther away?” Elias grins, although cracks of sadness still mark his face.
“Uh, Aurora.” I make up some excuse. “Aurora would be affected by this, and as her friend, I want to help her. Plus, if you leave, we won’t get to finish our small reading contest. I would have no opportunity to show you that I’m better than you think,” I joke, and a quiet laugh leaves his mouth. My lips curl upward at the change in the mood.
“Well, not at your pace, we won’t. You need to have the book out first to start reading.” I look around me to notice I haven’t taken my book out yet. I open my bag and pull it out, showing it to him.
“It’s here. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, shrugging my shoulders.
“Oh yes, of course. I must not have seen it.” He smiles again. I know that I’m not going to sit around and do nothing. It doesn’t matter if I trust Elias yet or not, it’s not his fault he has Roland as a father, nor that Roland is stupid. I’m going to, at the very least, try to stop him. But, in case that doesn’t work, I can work with these days as if they’re Elias’s last.
Lorenzo and I sit on the couch, looking up at the standing woman in front of us. My mother. She stands at the other side of the table, with her arms crossed. Her fingers are tapping on her arm sequentially as she stares at us, thinking about the whole situation.
“I don’t see the problem with Roland leaving. It could make my life so much easier to be honest,” she finally says, and Lorenzo straightens his back.
“Come on, Ms. Hart. This isn’t about Roland; this is about Elias. You can hate Roland all you want, but Elias doesn’t deserve this,” he states. She sighs, dropping her hands. She shifts her gaze toward me, widening her eyes in gesture.
“Ma, come on. He’s moving because of me. Because Roland thinks it's okay to insult anyone who isn’t as successful as he is. You said it yourself, Roland is arrogant, and now he’s directing it toward his son. We can at least stop him from doing that,” I tell her, and her face relaxes slowly. She looks down, taking slow breaths. She presses her lips into a thin line, her eyes softening. And I suddenly realize what I said. No. God, what’s wrong with me? I stand up and walk to her.
“Mom, I didn’t . . .” I try explaining, holding both her hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I just . . . Elias doesn’t get to choose who his father is. And although he might be untrustworthy, he shouldn’t have to deal with Roland controlling him.” She rubs her thumb on my hand, tilting her head to the side.
“Do what you want, okay. If you want to help him stay, I’ll support you. It won’t matter to me as long as I don’t have to see Roland. Because this doesn’t change the fact that the day I see his face is the day he’s going to lose it,” she clarifies. I nod, smiling at her. I can deal with that.
“Just take it as us trying to ruin Roland’s plan. He wants to insult middle-class people, and we’re trying to stop him,” I tell her, letting go of her hands. She squints her eyes.
“Roland is not moving because he thinks badly of middle-class people,” she mentions, and I raise my eyebrow. Of course he is. It’s the whole reason he and Elias had a so-called fight.
Lorenzo speaks for me however, “What do you mean?” He’s still sitting on the couch, and so I turn around slightly to face him before turning back to my mom again, waiting for her answer.
“I mean, he probably does think badly of the middle-class, I don’t doubt that. But if it was driven by that, Roland would have locked his son in his room for the rest of his life. This is not because of your class,” Mom explains. I mean, it makes sense. Roland wouldn’t just move to another state because Elias is surrounded by people every day. But they don’t know about the messages. They could’ve looked suspicious to him, like they meant something else.
Regardless, I ask to see what her thoughts are. “What is it about then?”
She drops backward and onto the couch, sitting one leg on top of the other. Her hands cross again, like it’s a natural state of hers. Her gaze continuously switches between me and Lorenzo.
“Roland opens his son’s phone, which is a violation of privacy for one, and finds the saved contact of a girl named Violet. You cannot tell me, knowing what Roland is like, that the second he knew someone called Violet was talking to his son, he immediately got angry.” Lorenzo looks at her, confused for a while, but I get what she means immediately. It makes more sense now.
“Wait, why would he have that reaction? It’s just a name,” Lorenzo points out.
“Exactly. A name he hates. A name that brings back what I like to call ‘name trauma’. He cannot look at that name like it’s nothing anymore,” she notes. Lorenzo shapes his lips into an ‘o’, finally realizing what Mom meant.
“Same thing. Not my name. So, he’s judging Elias over something that isn’t there.” Mom let out a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m just imagining Roland knowing that his son is hanging out with a girl named Violet.” She excuses herself. She lowers her head to stop laughing, then looks back up. “Sorry. Notfunny, I get it. Anyway, sabotaging Roland’s plans sounds like a great idea. How are you going to do it, though?”
Lorenzo now stands up, dusting off his clothes. “I have a suggestion,” he says, standing up straight. We both turn toward him, waiting for him to explain. His legs move him around the table and toward us as he begins to explain, “April Williams. She has some type of control over Roland. It would surprise you how much he values her opinion. You can ask her to help you, or to give you some tips,” he suggests, finally getting to us and standing next to me. I realize he means April Miller. She didn’t take her husband’s last name; I remember someone telling me. But he makes a good point. Aurora did say that her mom was the one who got Elias to go to the school. But this could be different.
“It’s Miller. And you’re right, she does have some type of control over him. You also said that Aurora is affected by this, so I’m sure she’ll help,” Mom confirms. Lorenzo looks at me now. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But then I’d have to talk to April. April has a photographic memory, and she’ll probably know what I look like, especially if Aurora likes me as much as Lorenzo says she does. I’m risking my identity here.
“Why can’t you go talk to Roland?” I ask Lorenzo. “You’re Elias’s friend, and your dad’s great business partners with him.”
Instead, he gives me an offended look. I raise my arms and flip them upward, gesturing in confusion. What did I do wrong? “Roland hates me. Didn’t you hear what Elias said when I asked if he told his dad about you being my friend?” he reminds me. Oh right.Do you want to know what he said when I told him that?I don’t think that means he said anything good. I sigh, nodding my head.
“Okay. I’ll go talk to her. I’ll see when I can visit Aurora,” I say aloud. Mom locks her hands around my shoulders.
“Be careful. If Roland threatens to hurt you, he’ll have me to deal with and, believe me, what I do in return will exceed hisexpectations,” she threatens. I laugh, rubbing her arm with my hand. I look at Lorenzo.
“I do not doubt her,” he states. He’s seen what my mom can do. He knows what she means when she threatens someone.
