When To Let Go (9 page)

“Nope, too personal and intimate. In the beginning I did, until I found out they'd do it without it.”

“Why me then?”

He stared at her for a long time not answering, and just as he was about to respond, Peter poked his head in, “You sure you're staying in?”

“Yeah,” Parker answered, turning his head to his roommate.

“All right,” Peter responded, shaking his head, not understanding why one would stay in on a Saturday night. “Later, jailbait!”

That was Peter’s nickname for Violet when he found out Parker's best friend was under eighteen and in his words, “the most gorgeous thing to ever grace his presence.” Parker had kneed him in the balls, telling him it would be far worse if he ever touched her.

“Eight more months, birdie. Be ready,” Peter shouted down the hall. He'd been on official countdown since her seventeenth birthday.

“Birdie?” She questioned Parker.

He was scowling at the door, “I'm guessing it's short for jailbird.”

Violet laughed, “I don't think he understands what that means.”

That got him to grin, “Are you surprised?”

“Not at all. His brain size is probably equal to his penis, small and unable to work hard before it can't handle the strain and explodes, then going days before it can function again.”

Parker threw his head back and laughed, “You have to let me tell him you said that, or better yet, we need to find a way you can say it to his face. I'd pay big money to see how he responds.”

“How much?” She dared.

They began negotiations on how much she could potentially earn, coming up with a point system on what needed to be said and how many points she got if certain people were there, as well as the location. It had them laughing and plotting for the next hour, until Parker's cell rang.

By now they were both lying on their backs, so Parker had to lean over Violet to reach it on his nightstand. He rested far more of his body over hers than necessary, resting a leg between hers, making them hip to hip. Parker answered, remaining in that position, their faces inches apart. He stared down at her the entire conversation.

Violet could hear Peter trying to convince Parker that he needed to get over to The Recovery Room, that “there's pussy overload and he needed his wingman.”

Parker didn't seem to be listening, too focused on her. She squirmed a bit under him, causing a low groan to vibrate his throat.

“I'm busy. Don't call back.” He practically growled, hanging up and placing it on his nightstand. “Quit it.”

“I was getting more comfortable.”

He rolled off her, “Right. I don't think best friends are supposed to make out.”

She shrugged, “Probably, but it sure makes things more fun.”

He turned his head to smirk at her, “Can’t argue that.”

They laid in silence for a long time, staring at each other, Violet trying to understand the different emotions that would swim across his clear, blue eyes.

His phone rang again, making her jump.

He laughed at her as he rolled back over to answer, staying on top of her again.

She could hear Peter shouting into the phone, “Dude, you have to get down here. Those twins from last month are back and asking for you! Fuck man, they're even hotter than I remembered.”

“Tell 'em to come back next week. I'm hanging with Vi tonight,” with that, Parker turned the phone off.

The phone call twisted Violet’s insides. Maybe Parker was right about no more kissing. It only confused her, making her want things she knew he could never give her.

Parker was still over her, examining her, “What's that face about? It's killing me.”

What she was about to say was going to kill a little part of
her
, “I agree with you, about not kissing anymore.”

He let out a long breath, closing his eyes and expelling a, “Yeah, okay,” as he rolled to his back.

She stared at the ceiling, not able to look at him for her next statement, “I also want to find a date for the dance, maybe someone I like.” She didn't know if it was possible, but she couldn't be Parker's lip-locking buddy forever. That would be pathetic.

He cursed under his breath, tugging on her arm so half her body curled over him with her head on his chest. That was new and made the moment sting even more. A part of her wished he never did things like that. It never felt fair; it didn't mean the same to him.

He stroked her back.

“My little Violet’s growing up,” he muttered as he kissed her head, leaving his lips there.

That's not what she wanted him to say, but it didn't surprise her either. It was a good reminder why she needed to let the part of her that secretly longed for him go, and just be happy she had him as a friend who shared parts of himself only she got to see.

No matter how hard it was, she'd eventually get over never having all of him.

A loud banging and some shouts had a groggy Violet reluctantly opening her eyes. She took in a deep breath, freezing when she smelt Parker's familiar scent. She quickly looked to the clock on the nightstand.

Two o'clock.

She was supposed to be home by midnight.

She jackknifed up, knowing exactly who that pounding was.

“Hold your fucking horses!” Peter shouted from outside the room, answering the door.

Her heart had never beat so hard in her life.

This was bad. This was very bad.

Parker sat up next to her, and when she glanced over she knew from his wide-eyed, panicked look he knew who it was too.

“Violet!” A deep male's voice shouted, stomping into the house with such a force that the walls rattled.

“Fuck,” they both muttered at the same time, right before Parker's bedroom door flew open.

Noah Baxter stepped into the room, dominating it with his size and fury that seemed to displace all the air from it.

When he spotted Parker and Violet on the bed all his veins seemed to pop out. For the first time in her life, Violet was scared of her dad.

“Get in the fucking car!” He roared.

Violet didn't move, in a state of shock from seeing her dad this way. He took a step closer, hands balling into fists.

Parker’s hands shot up, “This isn't what it looks like, I swear.”

“We fell asleep,” Violet rushed to explain at the same time.

“What the fuck were you doing in a bed?” Noah seethed, barely containing his rage, “Is this how you two 'hang out' when you come over?”

“No sir,” Parker replied. If the moment hadn’t had Violet shitting herself she would have laughed, never thinking he would use the word ‘sir’ to anyone. “My roommate came home with a bunch of people to party, so we came in here.”

“You expect me to believe it's that fucking innocent? I'm not blind, I see the way you two look at each other.” His anger focused on Violet. “Get in the car. Me and Parker need to have a chat.”

No way was she leaving. For the first time she believed Parker when he said her dad would kill him. She'd never seen this manic look dilating his pupils before.

To Violet's relief her mom was there, hidden from view behind her father's massive size.

“Honey,” Lily spoke, placing a hand on his arm. “They're fully clothed on top of the sheets. I don't think they're lying about accidentally falling asleep.”

Noah didn't take his eyes off the two, “I told you to wait in the car.”

“She's my daughter too. I have just as much of a right to be here, and don't you dare tell me otherwise!” Lily practically shouted. “Let’s go home so you can cool off.”

He wiped his palms across his face, “Fine.” He pointed a finger at Parker, “This isn't over. On Monday we’re going to chat about this. Got it?”

Parker nodded his head.

“Let's go,” he demanded, gesturing for Violet to leave.

Violet scrambled off the bed, peering at Parker over her shoulder on the way out. He had both legs bent and his head hanging down, shaking it. Everything would be different now, she knew it. She wished life would give you a warning sign before it changed courses.

“Later, jailbait,” Peter called out as they passed him in the living room.

Her dad stopped dead in his tracks. Violet couldn't see his face, but she could see Peter's, who went ghost white.

“I know a hundred different ways to make sure your body will never be found. For half of those, you'd be begging for me to finish you.” With that, her dad left.

Violet gave Peter an apologetic half-smile as she scurried after her father, completely mortified by his behavior.

“No more spending time alone with Parker,” her father mandated once they were all inside the car.

“That's not fair!” Violet protested, not understanding why he wouldn’t believe her or at least listen to her like he had in the past. “When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me besides tonight? We make one fucking mistake and you act like a jerk.”

“Violet,” her mom began to scold, never liking to hear her children swear.

“No mom, it's not right and you know it,” Violet cut in, not wanting to hear another lecture. “This is about me growing up and him not liking it. Well guess what Dad, one day I'm going to find a boyfriend and we'll eventually have sex. Lots and lots of sex. And there's nothing you can do to stop it!”

“Violet, don't test me,” he warned, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “You're too young to be thinking about sex, especially with someone like Parker.”

“Parker has no interest in me, Dad,” she left out the part about her not being too young. She knew that wouldn't go over well.

He made a snort of disagreement.

“He's had plenty of opportunity to try and he's not once attempted it. Not once.” Kissing to her was nothing to get worked up about.

“I don't care,” her father blew out, clearly trying to control the anger that was still pulsing his veins. “You two need to take a break for a while, at least until I feel you can both be trusted.”

“You're being unreasonable.”

“I'm being a parent.”

“Whatever,” she huffed, storming out of the car when they got home, slamming every door all the way to her room.

Wesley walked Ava to art class with the same sour look on his face that he’d had on for the past couple of weeks. It seemed to be getting worse. She didn't understand what was making him so moody.

What was dampening
her
mood was that the school's football team was having their worst year ever, so now everyone had focused their attention on the basketball team. Especially their two key players, and that meant so did the girls.

Wesley never gave her a reason to feel jealous, but it didn't mean she wasn't. She wished she had the confidence to boldly let them all know he was hers and to back off; instead, she stood to the side and watched them fawn over him.

Before she entered the art room she stopped to say goodbye, but he was staring at something over her shoulder with his jaw clenched.

“Everything alright?” She softly asked, touching his arm.

He didn't look at her, still fixated on something behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. All she saw was others heading to class or chatting with friends.

“Do you have to wear a dress every fucking day?” Wes grumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me?” She asked, thinking she hadn’t heard him correctly. Wesley had never talked so crudely to her before.

He scrubbed his face, letting out a deep puff of air, “Nothing.”

She swallowed the mammoth lump that formed from his words.

She didn't remember ever not wearing dresses, it was her thing. If he had stopped liking that about her, what else was there? She took in a shaky breath, not wanting to cry and draw attention to herself.

Dakota was at Ava's table like she had been every day since the first day she sat there.

Ava didn’t mind though, it was nice having a friend (if that's what she was) that wasn't a Baxter.

“Hi!” Dakota greeted cheerfully.

Ava gave her usual small smile back. She liked that Dakota didn't care that she was shy and quiet. It worked out well for them since Dakota loved to talk, reminding Ava of Maggie, but where Maggie was funny and interesting, Dakota liked to mostly gossip, which Ava wasn't a big fan of.

Ava set her backpack down and got the paint she needed, along with the baby doll bed she was painting. Erick kept bringing her more things to paint every time she finished. This time it was for his three-year-old niece.

She never minded. He was always so appreciative and excited that it made her feel good about it. The art teacher was beginning to get annoyed that she didn't do anything else and threatened she'd only get a C if she didn't try something different, but Ava didn't care. She wasn't going to college; she'd barely survived school since kindergarten. She was only trying to make it to graduation.

“Let me get an apron on and I’ll help you,” Dakota volunteered.

Ava watched her grab what she needed, admiring her clothes. She loved the way Dakota dressed. It was a bohemian/hipster look that only the right person could pull off as sexy. Dakota had the kind of confidence to pull off any style. She was really rather stunning.

Dakota helping meant whenever the teacher walked by she picked up her brush and made some strokes on the wood until he passed. Ava had yet to see her do any work. Eddie did all her “real” work. She was getting an ‘A’ because of it.

“Do you know if that Wesley guy is taking anyone to the dance?” Dakota casually asked, examining her nails.

Ava paused mid-stroke, about to say herself, but Wes hadn't asked her yet. In fact, it just dawned on her that Wesley had never brought her to a dance.

“It's not really his thing,” she guessed (more like prayed, since he had yet to go to one himself and she knew he hated dancing).

Dakota frowned and cocked her head, perplexed, “Doesn't he have to go? He's like royalty around here.”

Ava shrugged, trying to think of another topic to bring up.

Dakota spoke up first, “Do you know what kind of girls he likes? I can't tell.”

Ava said the first thing that popped in her head, “Me.”

“
You?
” Dakota responded in complete disbelief, eyebrows as high as they could go.

She nodded her head, overly concentrating on her work.

“You mean, you hope it's you? Do you have some silly little girl crush on him or something? Because not to be a bitch,” Ava noticed Dakota said that right before she cut a person down, “but he'll flirt with anyone and he's completely platonic towards you. You'd be better off crushing on someone like Eddie.”

Ava's stomach knotted, “Why don't you think he could like me?”

“No offense, but you're kinda chunky and boring.” She tugged on the end of Ava's braid, “And who french braids their hair past the age of nine?”

Ava didn't necessarily take offense to her words, but it didn't mean they hadn't stung.

When class was over, Dakota walked outside with her. Wesley, of course, was waiting there. This time with two other girls.

“Pathetic,” Dakota muttered, “A word of advice, Ava: never throw yourself at a guy, get them to come to you.”

“How?” Her mouth eagerly asked, eyes glued to Wes and the two girls.

Dakota straightened her shoulders back and gave her a stealthy grin, “I'll show you.”

A senior walked by and Dakota gave him a long appreciative glance, meeting his eyes with a seductive smile.

The guy stopped in his tracks, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Dakota breathed out, her eyes sparkling.

He didn't try to hide the way he leered down her body, “You new here?”

Dakota turned to Ava with a satisfied smirk, completely ignoring the guy, “See? High school boys are so easy.” She peeked over at Wesley, “Except for the rare exception that takes more work.” She winked at Ava, “Those are the fun ones.”

Ava wasn't really listening, feeling awkward with the boy standing there gawking at Dakota, who was acting as though he wasn't still there.

“Can I take you out sometime?” He asked, not clueing in to the fact that she wasn't giving him any more of her time.

“Grow taller and we'll talk,” Dakota responded, turning her back on him to face Ava.

Ava gave the guy an apologetic half-smile. He shrugged and walked away.

“I prefer my men tall,” Dakota explained as Wes came to join them.

“Who was that?” Wesley asked in a tone Ava didn't recognize.

“Just one of Ava's admirers,” Dakota explained, giving Ava another wink. Why she did that Ava hadn't a clue. “I'm Dakota, by the way. Ava's new best friend.”

“Mm,” Wes grumbled, not paying her any attention, staring at the back of the guy who had just left. The hardened look of his eyes lately was starting to grow into his features.

“You ready?” His lips barely moved when he asked.

Wes didn't give Ava time to answer and began walking in the direction of her next class.

She waved goodbye to Dakota, who was watching Wesley with a look Ava couldn't decipher, not knowing her well enough. Maggie got that same kind of face when she was calculating a way to sneak onto the racetrack for a run.

The tension during the car ride home that day had Ava's stomach knotting getting worse. Wesley was in the worst mood she'd ever seen, as was Violet. It had been over a week, and Ava's brother wasn't faring any better. He seemed drunk all the time, which worried her. She had to slip gum packs into his pocket when she saw him, hoping he chewed it and didn't have the smell on him at work. Mr. Baxter was still pissed at him, and she didn't want him to have a reason to fire him.

“Drop me off at the gym,” Wes told Maggie.

He went there almost daily now, even without his dad.

“I thought we were hanging out?” Ava blurted, wishing she hadn't. She had vowed to never be clingy like her biological mother had been, always encouraging Wes to hang out with Xavier or the basketball team, but she didn’t like this growing distance between them.

His face softened a tad when he looked at her, “I really need to work out.”

She tried responding with understanding, “Okay.”

“Want to come with me for a ride?” Maggie suggested, loving to get lost on desert roads.

Ava happily agreed. Riding in a car with Maggie always scared the bejesus out of her, spiking her adrenaline and making it so she couldn't think about anything else, which was exactly what she needed right now. Violet decided to come too, not knowing what to do with herself since she wasn't allowed in the garage when Parker was working.

It ended up being a fun afternoon with lots of laughing and ended with them getting ice cream (that Ava almost refused, remembering Dakota's comment about her being chunky, but her trying to deny sweets was like the Pope denying God).

Wesley seemed in a better mood the next day, relieving some of the knot in Ava's stomach that hadn’t gone away.

It got worse again during gym. Every day she was forced to watch the girls in his class compete for his attention. She tried ignoring it as best as she could. Eventually, the pull became too great and she had to glance over. To her relief, his class was at the gated tennis courts and his one and only partner was a male. As though sensing eyes on him, Wes looked around, landing on Ava. A slow, lazy smile spread across his lips. That was another one of his smiles she loved and hadn't seen much of lately. It always made her stomach dip.

He waved to her and she waved back. His partner followed who he was waving to. He came over to Wesley, mouthing something close to his ear, peering at Ava in a way that made her uncomfortable. Before she had a chance to register what was happening, Wes had pushed the boy up against the caged fence, making the metal clink and drawing attention. His forearm pressed into the guy's neck, locking him in place.

Gasps fell from various areas, surround-sounding the outdoors. Students moved in closer, hoping a fight was about to break out. Ava remained rooted in her spot. She had never seen Wesley become violent before. He was always so laid back, making everyone around him the same. Even from her spot on the football field she could make out how red he had become, veins bulging from his skin. She knew he had muscles, but the stance he had taken made them look massive. He was tall like his father, yet she had never noticed that he was quickly becoming just as big. It was a little frightening.

Wes was saying something to the guy that had him apologizing between his gasps of air.

A male teacher had to pull Wesley off. The boy dropped to the ground, sucking in air. His fists were balled up at his sides, turning white, his chest heaving from anger. The teacher was informing him to calm down.

“I'm cool,” he stated, though his clenched jaw told otherwise. “I just need a minute.”

He took long strides towards the gym, pushing open the doors with a heavy thrust, letting them bang shut behind him. It was dead silent for a fraction of a second before excited chatter filled the air. Nobody knew what had happened, but it didn't stop them from conspiring over why.

Ava still hadn't moved, her eyes glued to the door Wes had exited. A part of her wanted to check on him. The other part didn't want to see him until he had cooled down. Much to her relief, he was waiting for her afterwards, although he didn't look happy.

“Ready for lunch?” He asked with absolute dullness, his normally carefree features still tight and withdrawn.

Ava nodded, taking his hand, “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.”

Sarcastic Wesley was never good.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

They remained silent all the way to the cafeteria. Ava hated it. It wasn't like him to be closed off. He was usually the one encouraging
her
to open up.

Maggie waved Ava over to her table. Wesley was taking her the opposite way, towards all his basketball buddies.

“I'm going to go sit with Maggie and Vi,” she informed him, dropping his hand. She didn't like eating lunch with his teammates, she didn't fit in.

He dropped her hand without a word or a glance and kept walking to his group. He still brought her to every class that day, remaining distant in a way he had never been before. She wanted a chance to talk to him; unfortunately, she had tutoring after school. She was barely able to concentrate on it, which was a bad thing considering school was hard enough, and this was the only thing that helped her get through it.

“You, okay? You seem distracted,” Erick inquired during an equation she was taking forever to figure out, too flustered to use the techniques she had learned to stay focused.

“Sorry,” she sighed, feeling guilty for wasting his time.

“Is it about the fight Wes got into?” Erick knew they were together. Some days she had to take a quick break and they'd share about themselves.

“You heard about that?”

“The whole school has.”

“Did anyone mention why?”

“You don't know?”

She shook her head.

With a sympathetic smile, he patted her hand, giving it a squeeze and leaving it there, “Still acting strange?”

That simple caring gesture had Ava holding back tears. All she could do was nod.