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I should have never let myself get that close to Violet Demure.
In the quiet of the kitchen I pour myself another shot. It burns all the way down in the best way possible, washing away all the shitty thoughts that constantly live in my mind. “You know my father hates parties,” I say cheerfully to nobody in particular.
My father hates parties. Which is the only reason I love them.
Seven
Dee
It’s getting dark outside. Not so dark that I don’t still see glimpses of the setting sun peeking through the dense trees. But dark enough that the street lights flicker on and I find myself hurrying between the shadows of their glow just to get to the next well lit spot.
In my hands I swing my slightly broken in loafers. You would think I would have nice callused feet after wearing shoes that were too small for me for so many years but I guess my body will never learn. I’m hoping my blisters heal up over this weekend enough so that I can keep my shoes on when walking home from now on.
It’s not my home, I remind myself.
I hiss as a sharp rock jabs the pad of my heel, pulling me from my thoughts. I can see the driveway of the Reyes estate. I paused, blinking as I see people walking around in the landscaping that surrounds it.
Are the boys outside waiting for me?
Wow, that sounded pathetically hopeful.
I’m late getting home. I spent too much time at the library just trying to get away from them for as long as I could. There isn’t much difference between the horror that is Mournmount Academy and Knox’s house these days.
After being gone for hours, maybe they feel bad…
Again, pathetically hopeful.
Continuing to the house, I realize as I get closer that I don’t actually know these people who are stumbling around in the dim street lighting. It’s only eight o’clock and someone is already drunk on the lawn?
Talk about childhood memories coming to life.
Damp grass slides along my feet when I leap over the guy face down in front of the bushes.
Shit. The thumping sound of music meets my ears and realization hits hard. Those asshats threw a party.
Probably celebrating how miserable they've made me for five days straight.
The rocks at my feet look mighty interesting as I pass the people out front. I don’t pay anyone any mind or act as if I hear them at all as a few of them giggle and sneer, “It’s Venereal Violet.”
A heavy breath pushes from my lungs. If one day could pass where I didn’t hear that name, that would be fantastic.
I just want a night of quiet. A moment of peace from this hell that has become my first week of school.
That’s become my life now.
There isn't a need for me to open the front door since it’s already wide open, showing off the throng of people dancing to the music blasting from the radio and sipping out of red plastic cups. Through the entryway, just before the living room, I can take the stairs and escape to my bedroom…. Knox’s bedroom.
I can lock myself away and hide until they pass out or leave. What if I call the cops on the party? The thought passes through my mind but I quickly dismiss it. I’m not a narc.
That’s one thing my mother always said over and over again. Demure women are not narcs. I don’t know why she always said that like it was our family motto.
A terrible motto if you ask me.
I kept my mother's endless secrets for so long it's like not giving away too much is permanently ingrained into my personality.
I shoulder past sweaty people without an apology. These people have likely done this or worse to me this week already. The stairs are also littered with familiar faces but I weave through easily enough, getting to my bedroom in a matter of seconds.
Dim light is shining from underneath the door and I twist the cool metal knob with a prayer that they just left the lights on for me when I got home. Unlikely, I know.
