I reach over and turn the music down. ‘Well, I was working on a Calculus assignment, but I started seeing numbers everywhere, so I took a break.’ I lift my cast that’s covered in drawings, some my own, others from Greyson and Seth who have took it upon themselves to turn my arm décor into art. ‘I really do hate math.’

He closes the door behind him and slips off a shoe. It’s late in the evening and from his sporty attire – drawstring shorts, a tank top and running shoes – I’m guessing he’s just gotten back from the gym. ‘Then why did you take Calculus? You know it’s not a requirement for a General Studies major, right?’

‘Yeah, but I had nothing better to take and I like a challenge.’ I recline against the headboard and stretch my legs over the mess of textbooks and assignments, frowning at the Calculus book. ‘It’s not like it’s hard, just not fun.’

He laughs as he kicks off his other shoe. ‘Math never is … although, can I point out that most of your classes are higher course levels then most sophomores take, and they come easy to you, so not only are you smart, but you might want to rethink that General Studies Major and do something else, like Physics or something.’

‘Physics? Really?’ I question with skepticism. ‘That’s what you see me doing?’

He shrugs as he removes his wallet and some spare change out of his pocket and drops them on the nightstand. ‘You’re good at science and math.’

‘You are too, so maybe you should major in it.’ I kneel up on the bed and slip the hoodie off that I was wearing because the bedroom is getting too warm for jackets. ‘And how do you know I’m good at science?’

‘Because I took Chemistry with you,’ Luke replies as I throw the jacket on the bedpost, adding more chaos to the room. Luke and I used to be so neat and orderly but we’ve gotten kind of turned into slobs over the last month, too busy with other things I guess.

‘That was before we were dating, though,’ I say. ‘Were you watching me or something?’

He pauses, then clears his throat several times, confirming my accusation. ‘Maybe, but that’s not how I know you got an A. It was because the Professor posted finals on the door.’

‘Just because I got an A, doesn’t mean I’m smart. I could have cheated.’

‘Yeah, you could of.’ He positions himself in front of the edge of the bed with his hands in his pockets. ‘But you’re smart enough that you don’t have to.’

‘So are you … And stop calling me smart.’ I’m getting uncomfortable with the compliments about my allegedly wonderful mind. In the past there’s only negativity when people brought it up. Crazy. Erratic. Unstable. Disturbed. Psychotic. That’s what I’m used to and it makes it harder to listen to the positive. It occurs to me then that Lana might have been onto something today and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Not wanting to think about that stuff and how it makes me feel, I aim for a joke. ‘If you keep giving me compliments, I’m going to start glowing.’

His mouth curves to a smile as he chuckles. ‘Oh really? Is that what happens?’

I nod, sitting down and bending my legs so I can rest my arms on my knees. ‘All compliments and no negativity makes Violet a glowing girl.’ I wink at him, all suave.

He laughs even harder, wrapping his arm around his taut stomach, and I kept help but let a smile grace my lips.

Then his elation fades and unexpectedly he’s leaning toward me. ‘It’s good to see you smile,’ he says, grazing his finger across my cheek and letting his fingertips linger at the corner of my lips.

I keep on smiling, but it’s becoming complicated with the feel-goods that he’s giving me and I don’t know how to deal with those except for panic and run. I grow quiet, battling to keep myself calm and not bolt out the door. Try to be different. Try not to be that girl, the one he asked me to be in the truck.

Moving away from me, Luke tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor, fleetingly veering me away from my thoughts and toward his muscular abs and chest painted with symbols, sketching, and beautiful sayings. ‘You look more muscly lately,’ I admire absentmindedly.

Unbuttoning his jeans, he cocks a brow. ‘Does it turn you on?’

I thrum my finger on my lips and pretend to think about it really hard as he slips off his jeans. ‘That’s a really tough question to answer. I may need to see more to come to an accurate conclusion.’

He chucks his jeans at me and they hit me in the face. I playfully throw them back at him, but he ducks and I end up missing him and knock over an empty soda can on the dresser. He laughs while I flip him the middle finger.

‘I’m more muscly because I’ve been taking care of myself and working out more with Kayden,’ he says and as if proving his point that he is indeed taking better care of himself, he picks up his case that carries his stuff for his diabetes to check his blood sugar level.

‘I know you have been.’ I collect a pen from the bed and lie back down on my stomach, trying not to think about how easy this conversation is. How simple. It’s been so long. ‘It’s good that are.’

After pricking his finger, he wanders to the dresser to get some clean clothes, but pauses and turns to look at me. ‘You should come with me sometime.’

My gaze flicks up from one of my literature papers. ‘To the gym?’ When he nods, I snort a laugh. ‘Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I’m not athletic. At all.’

He grabs a pair of pajama bottoms from the dresser and then flops down on the bed with me. ‘You don’t have to be athletic … Callie comes with Kayden a lot.’

‘Good for Callie.’ I flip the page of my textbook. ‘If I went to the gym, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself.’

‘It would get you out of the house.’ He slides my books out of the way so he can scoot closer to me then slips his fingers through mine, causing me to drop my pen. ‘I worry about you … you haven’t really left the house since … Well, since you went to the station a couple of weeks ago, nor have you talked about it … and I’m worried.’

‘You’ve said that twice,’ I say then give a heavy sigh. ‘And it’s hard when there’s a mob always waiting around for me.’

He rotates onto his side and combs his fingers through my hair around his finger, gazing off with great contemplation. ‘You can’t let them control your life. And besides, I’ll punch them in the face if they come too close.’ The corners of his lips tease upward.

But I frown. ‘No punching anyone in the face. I don’t need you going to jail.’

‘Please just come with me.’

Clearly this is important to him, although I don’t know why. And if I’m being true to myself about trying to get my acted together, heal all my brokenness besides the bones, I need to start attempting to make up to him for everything I’ve been taking lately. ‘If I go, I’m just going to sit there.’

‘You can do whatever you want.’ He inches closer and his body heat engulfs me and puts me into this temporary state of high where I swear to God I’m floating. ‘Although there is a kickboxing area. Seems like something right up your alley. You could take out your anger aggression on it.’

‘Anger aggression? ‘I narrow my eyes at him, but it’s more playful than annoyed. ‘Are you saying I have anger problems?’

‘Maybe … I mean, you have every right to be angry, but I think it would be good for you to try finding a healthy outlet.’ He glances down at my cast then I catch his gaze flicking to the other wrist where there’s a mark on my flesh hidden beneath a leather bracelet; a mark I put there when I cut my own skin hoping that maybe if I made myself bleed, my emotions would bleed out with the blood.

There’s also a questioning in his eyes, and I get what he wants to know – needs to know.

‘I haven’t done anything since that day.’ I fidget with the leather band self-consciously. ‘I’ve been trying not to.’ But it’s been a rollercoaster of difficultness. Up and down. That’s what I’ve felt like every second of every hour of every day.

‘I know you have,’ he says. ‘I just want you to find something that might help, so maybe won’t have to do it anymore … so maybe it won’t be so hard not to try.’

It’s crazy how much he gets it and how much I want to stop for him and kind of for myself. But if I’m being honest, I can’t picture my life without my reckless behavior and that makes me wonder how long I can go on like this. It’s been so long that it doesn’t even feel possible; even though I never want to have that helpless feeling I had in the water again. And I don’t for one second believe that going to the gym is going to help get rid of my problem, but he’s looking at me with hope in his eyes, so I agree.

‘Fine, I’ll go.’ I force a smile.

He grins from ear-to-ear and it makes agreeing worth it, despite the fact I’m going to look like a dumbass trying to beat up a bag. ‘Good, we start tomorrow at seven o’clock,’ he says.

‘In the morning?’ I give him a disgusted look. ‘What the hell. I don’t get up that early.’

He laughs at me then gives me a kiss on the forehead before sitting up. ‘Yeah, it’s early but I have to pick up my dad and Trevor from the airport and noon and then we’re going to dinner later, remember?’

Honestly, through all the stuff going on the past couple of weeks, I’d forgotten about it. ‘I kinda forgot they were coming,’ I admit, sitting up and reaching for my Calculus book.

‘That’s understandable.’ He heads for the door with the pajama bottoms in his hand. ‘You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.’

‘You’ve been sounding like a psychologist lately. So either Seth’s been wearing on you or maybe that’s what you should major in.’

He releases a cynical laugh. ‘Yeah, that’ll be the day. Me sitting behind a desk, listening to other peoples’ problems and trying to fix them.’

‘You’re better at it than you think.’ My words carrying more meaning than meets the ear.

Luke gives me a thankful smile that chips at my ice-cold heart just a bit, but his happiness quickly turns to hesitancy. ‘So how was the therapy thing today?’ he asks as indifferently as possible, but I can tell he’s worried about asking me.

I shrug, not wanting to talk about the fact that my head is officially being examined. ‘Not too bad I guess.’

‘Do you have to see them again?’ he wonders, his fingers wrapping around the doorknob.

I nod, wondering if I’m going to go through with it – keep going and let Lana dissect me. ‘Yeah, next week.’

‘Until when?’

‘Until the unforeseeable future.’ I shrug, then shrug again, not sure what else to say. Lana never mentioned how much I’d have to go there. What if it’s a really long time? Sitting in that chair, talking about stuff I always avoid no matter what the costs. Can I handle it?

‘Oh, okay.’ Luke drops the subject and opens the door.

All this talk about our futures, I’m reminded of who I am. Like me, Luke has no declared major, but he still plays football and has hobbies so he’s at least got that, unlike me. I don’t have any hobbies, other than my extreme lack of people skills and my adrenaline junkie addiction. I have nothing really.

Maybe Luke’s right. Maybe I do need to declare a major, get out of the house, do something. But I don’t even know where to start. All my life, I’ve felt like I was drifting, drifting through homes, jobs, even classes, passing them but never really getting into anything I was being taught.

Drifting.

That’s all I did – do. My thoughts always stuck in the past.

But now the past might get its justice – my parents might get their justice. And that leaves me with facing the future, whether I’m ready to or not.

Chapter 14

Violet

‘I saw you, Violet. Saw you in the water.’ A whisper fills my head. It comes in the middle of the night. A voice, floating from somewhere in the dark house. ‘You wanted to hurt yourself.’

‘You’re not getting off that easy.’

Did it come from the bedroom? I’m not sure, but they sound so close … wait where am I?

I’m startled from my sleep then smothered by the darkness around me. It feels so heavy, so crushing that I can’t breathe.

I’m alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

In the dark house.

Only I’m not alone.

A stranger is here with me.

‘Wake up.’

This time I know I heard something for sure and I reach for Luke and feel his warmth beside me. ‘Luke, wake up.’ I give him a hard shake, my eyes frantically scanning the room. But there’s no one there. ‘I think I hear someone … out in the living room.’

It takes him a second to come out of his sleep, still dreary eyed as he flips on the lamp and looks at the clock. ‘It’s two in the morning … what’s going on?’

‘I hear someone in the living room,’ I hiss, sitting up and straining to hear the noise as I grip tightly onto the blanket.

This can’t be happening.

Not again.

No.

No one is here.

Thud … thud … thud …

A second later, Luke is out of bed and on his feet, chucking me the phone. ‘Get ready to call the police.’