Entry #520336, added on 07-10-07 @ 1:16 pm EDT
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"So, what are you majoring in?" Christian asked. He and Violet lied on the hood of his car in the parking lot of the Dairy Queen down the street from Tinsletown. She didn't feel bad for not hanging out with Drake like she normally would have. After all, he was the one who had said he was surprised she hadn't just ditched him last time.
"Creative writing," she answered proudly.
Christian turned his face toward hers, surprise lightly his eyes. "You write?"
She nodded, smiling at his expression, then looked back up at the stars that were becoming more visible as lights around town went out. "Yeah. Drake makes fun of me because I have a thing about reading stories that don't have happy endings."
She could feel his gaze on her as he asked, "What do you mean?"
She sighed, thinking of how she would answer. She put her arms out in front of her and faced him. "The way I see it, we read books to escape reality, right?"
He didn't answer.
"At least I do," she added.
"Oh!" Christian exclaimed, realizing that he was supposed to agree with her if he felt the same way. "Right, so do I."
She laughed and went on. "Well, if we read books to get away from the real world, why give books a sad ending? It's too realistic. If I wanted sadness I would just hang out with my family, not open a great book that should end with everyone happy."
Christian watched her for a moment, surprised at how he could relate to what she was saying. "Yeah. See? I don't think that's dumb. I think you're right." He smiled. "Now I know I can read your books and expect a happy ending."
She shrugged. "Drake says that makes stories too predictable."
Christian rolled his eyes. "I don't think you should be listening to Drake anymore."
She blinked and wished she could tell him that it didn't work that way, that Drake was all she had, the only one she could really talk to.
But wasn't this talking?
She'd been opening up to this guy all night without really realizing it. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the fresh night air. She hadn't felt this good in a long time, not since before her father became a workaholic. Her mother was convinced that he had changed in some way. She could tell. But that wasn't it. He was just working too hard. Way too hard. And it was making him cranky.
She wished that her parents could be happy again, and that she wouldn't have to get Pacey away from the fighting all the time.
Without really thinking about it, Violet checked her watch.
Then she bolted up into a sitting position. "Christian, it's after midnight!" She said, jumping off the hood of his Jeep and rushing to her car that was parked next to it.
Christian sat up, confused. "Yeah? So?"
Violet yanked open her door and started to climb in. "So? Christian my curfew is ten thirty. If my dad finds out about this, I'm dead."
Christian looked troubled now. "I'm sorry," he said, and Violet could tell he meant it. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble."
Violet paused with her key halfway to the ignition. She sighed. "It's okay, Christian. You didn't know."
He gave her an unconvincing smile. "Well, if you're not grounded tomorrow, can we hang out?"
Violet nodded. "Sure." She waved goodbye to him, then hurried home, hoping that everyone would be asleep when she got there.
Maggie was dozing off when the headlights on Violet's car swept through the dark living room. She had turned off the light half an hour before so that she might try to sleep. It had been a success. She waited as she heard a key being fit in the lock, then the deadbolt sliding away from home. The door opened.
Violet gasped loudly when she saw Maggie sitting the darkness of the house. She clutched her chest and rasped, "Mom!"
Maggie put her hands out in front of her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She watched as Violet slowly turned and shut the door behind her. Violet thought she was in trouble, Maggie could tell.
When Violet turned back around, she braced her hands on the door behind her back. "What are you doing up so late?" She asked Maggie.
Maggie's legs still dangled over the arm of the sofa and she leaned forward to rest her chin on her knees. "Just waiting. Where were you?"
Violet let out a breath, explaining quickly. "I was out with a friend, and we weren't paying attention to the time, but when I finally saw how late it was, I hurried home as fast I could. I'm so sorry. I never meant to stay out so long." Maggie could see her brace herself for something horrible.
Maggie sent her a coy smile. "Who were you with? Drake got home long ago."
Violet's eyes slid closed in desolation. She hadn't wanted Maggie to know who it was. Maggie wasn't sure whether or not to feel offended. Her eyes opened again and met her mother's. "A boy named Christian Brite. We went out for ice cream and hung out a little, that's all."
That's all Maggie wanted to know. She stood from the couch and went to her daughter, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Pacey is waiting for you in your room. You go to bed. I won't tell your father that you were out late."
Violet's face held a puzzled expression, but she didn't question her mother. She simply walked past Maggie, down the hallway, past her parents bedroom, and into her room.
Maggie didn't hear the door close behind her. She walked down the dark hallway and looked through the small crack between the door and the frame. She watched as her daughter undressed and slipped into a T-shirt and a pair of boxers that most likely belonged to her best friend at one time. Violet slid into her bed next to a sleeping Pacey who barely stirred at his sister's presence.
She sighed and backed carefully away from the door, back into the empty hallway. As she turned to head to her room, she came face-to-face with an old family portrait. There sat her and her husband, arms around eachother, with Violet placed in on a stool in front of them, a much younger Pacey in her lap. The picture couldn't have been more than four years old, but yet everyone in that picutre, with smiles plastered on their faces, seemed much happier than they were now. Maggie sighed and wished that she could go back in time to when her family was happy. If she could just remember a time when she and her husband were happy, she was sure that the happiness of their children would fall right into place.
She took a steading breath to keep herself together then turned and slipped into her room, where her handsome husband slept in their queen-size bed. Oh, how she loved her husband. There was not a force in the world that could tear her away from him, yet she felt that he was being torn from her, and she didn't know how to stop it. |
© Copyright 2007 GryffindorGurl (UN: magicfreak11 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
GryffindorGurl has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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