Violet is Blue (Hothouse series) (7 page)

I rubbed a hand over my stomach to ease the fluttering, but it didn’t help. In fact, it just enticed me to go even further. I unbuttoned my jeans, and slid my hand inside my panties, which were damp.  With a franticness that surprised me, I rubbed at my sex until I was panting and squirming and unable to stop even if I wanted to.

I knew Ms. Wright was waiting for me. I knew Devon could be standing right outside the washroom door listening to me, but I didn’t care. I had to slake the fist of desire that pounded at me, slammed inside me over and over again.

Closing my eyes, I moved my fingers so fast and hard that my legs shook, until finally I couldn’t contain it any longer. I gasped as the sensation rushed through me like wildfire. I bit down on my lip as my body convulsed.  Oh God, I’d never felt that before. It was hot and wet and intense. And I thought my heart was going to explode out of my throat, it was pounding there so hard.

I pulled my hand out of my jeans, and took in some deep breaths, trying to calm down, trying to slow down my breathing and my heart rate.  I went out of the stall and washed my hands, then splashed cold water onto my flushed face.  I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was in disarray, and no matter how much cold water I put on my cheeks, they were still red. My pupils were even dilated.  Ms. Wright was going to know what the hell I was doing in this bathroom. It was written all over my face, all over my body. I was dirty horny girl.

Damn Devon for making me feel this way. For making me do this to myself.

After I fixed my hair, I straightened my shirt and left the washroom. I found Ms. Wright waiting for me at the front counter.

“Everything all right, Violet?”

Without looking at her, I just nodded, and grabbed my jacket and my purse. I followed her out of the library and waited for her to lock up.

“You look flushed. Are you getting sick maybe?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. It was just hot in there, that’s all.”

We crossed the parking lot together toward our cars.

“Did you paint your car?”

I squinted and noticed that she was right; there was something different about my car. But as we got closer I realized what it was.  I stopped dead in my tracks and gaped in stunned silence.

Desecrated roses covered my entire car. I could barely see the blue paint job between the delicate splotches of crimson.

“Are those flowers?”

I noticed there was a piece of paper under one of the wipers.  I reached for it, gingerly picking it up. There was writing on it.

You should never throw something away that is just starting to bloom
.

“Is it from your boyfriend, Jordan?”

I looked at her. “Why would you say that?”

“I swore I saw him earlier.”

I shook my head.

She touched my shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you want me to phone someone?”

“No, I’m fine. This is just someone’s idea of a joke.”

“Then how come you’re not laughing?” She squeezed my shoulder. “Do you want me to stay with you? I can call your mom.”

“No, really, everything’s fine. I’m okay.”

She dropped her hand, and pushed the button to unlock her car. “Okay. I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Yup, I’ll be here.” I gave her a brave smile although deep inside I was shaking like a leaf in a tornado.

I waited until she was in her car and had it started before I frantically wiped at the flower petals on my car. By the time I was done, angry tears streaked my face. I opened the car door and slid inside.  Ms. Wright had driven off with one final wave to me.

The moment she was gone, my cell phone rang.

I dug in my purse to answer it. “Hello?”

There was no answer. I couldn’t hear anything, so I disconnected. Maybe someone butt called me.

The phone rang again. I looked at the screen. Unknown name. Unknown number.

I answered it.

“Did you get my message?”

I got out of the car and spun around, searching the parking lot for another car, for someone watching me. I was alone.

“I got it,” I hissed.

“Great, then we can start over.”

“I don’t want to start over. I want you to leave me alone.”

“I heard you in the bathroom. I heard you fingering yourself. Were you thinking about me?”

I ended the call, and got back into my car. I locked the doors, and started the engine. Without looking, I backed up and raced across the parking lot toward the main road. I had to get home.

I sped all the way, lucky I didn’t get pulled over. When I reached my house, I screeched to a stop, got out and ran for the front door. I fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Finally, I managed to slide the key in and open the door. I locked it, dead bolting it behind me, and then raced upstairs to my bedroom.

Once in my room, I locked that door, and also made sure my window was locked. I drew the curtains, and then sat on my bed.  I didn’t know what to do. It was late, and I didn’t want to wake my mom.  I still didn’t know what I’d say to her. What would I tell her?  How could I tell her? I was already too embarrassed to even say anything to Dahlia and Ivy. I’d let it go too far, and now I had to deal with it.

Maybe he would stop. Or I could get my phone number changed. But to do that, I would have to tell my mom. Maybe I could tell her I lost my phone, and we’d get a new one and a new number. It would be a hassle but it would be worth it.

With that decided, I grabbed a pillow and hugged it tight. I was too scared to go to sleep. So, I reached for my iPod, plugged in my ear buds and blasted some music.  At least for a while I could forget about everything and just get lost in the sound.

––––––––

“I
don’t mean to be a bitch, but V, you look like shit.”

I barely looked up at Dahlia as the three of us made our way across the quad to the school doors.

“I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately.”

Ivy dug into her purse, and then handed a small tube to me. I looked at it. It was hemorrhoid cream.

“What’s this for?”

“It helps get rid of the black and baggage.” She pointed to my eyes.

I put the tube in my pocket for later, when I could get to the washroom.  We kept walking, but I sped up a little when I noticed that we would be going by the boys. I put my gaze on the ground, but I still couldn’t stop seeing Jordan with his nose taped. Devon must’ve busted it.

Nick was waving our way and I expected Ivy to go rushing over to him. But she didn’t. She turned her head and looked everywhere but at Nick.

Dahlia waved and Isaac gave her a little finger wave and grinned.

“What’s with you two?’ Dahlia asked Ivy.

“It wasn’t working,” she said.

“You were only going out for what, a week?”

She put her hand up to her mouth and whispered. “He’s got a really small dick.”

Dahlia and I burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe you already know that,” I said, shaking my head.

“Hey, I like to know what I’m working with right away. That way I’m not wasting my time.”

“Is sex all that matters to you?” I asked. There must’ve been a tone in my voice because both Ivy and Dahlia gave me a look.  Ivy actually looked wounded.

“No,” she said, “It’s just, it happens real quick for me.  How long was it before you slept with Jordan?”

“Seven months at least.”

“Oh.” She looked away from me and examined her nails. “I guess I just don’t have your amazing will power.”

I knew I hurt her, but I had to admit I just didn’t care right now. I had my own shit to deal with.

“Wow, Jordan’s nose still looks awful,” Dahlia commented as we mounted the steps to the main doors.

“I’m surprised Devon hasn’t bought it yet,” Ivy said with a snide little smirk.

“Has he even been at school?” Dahlia asked.

Ivy nodded. “I saw him in class yesterday.”

“When Jordan catches up to him, he’s hamburger.”

“I think Devon can take care of himself.” I didn’t like that they sounded as if they were defending Jordan. Devon had come to my aid. He had stopped Jordan from slapping me or worse.  Everyone should be giving him a medal instead of waiting for him to get the shit kicked out of him.

“You his big fan now or something?” Dahlia lifted her eyebrow in question.

“Well he did stop Jordan from hurting me, so yeah, kinda.”

“You’ve got the hots for him.” She poked me in the side.

“No, I don’t.”  I could feel my cheeks reddening, remembering that I had masturbated in the bathroom in the library over him.

“You get that look in your eye when we talk about him.”

“What look?”

“The one that says, fuck me silly.”

I sighed. “Let’s get off the subject, okay?”

“Sure.”

We entered the school.

“So we still going out tonight?”

I smiled. “Oh yeah. I totally need it.”

Ivy frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Patrick is taking Vi and me out tonight to some club,” Dahlia said.

Ivy’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t you ask me to go?”

“Aren’t you going to your dad’s for the weekend?” I said. “Or I would’ve.”

“Oh yeah, right.” She scowled. “I wonder if he’d notice if I snuck out?”

Dahlia laughed. “Probably.”

“All right. Later skanks.” Ivy rushed down the hall to hit her first class.

I was about to go right to my first class when Dahlia grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re handling it.”

“I’m good, Mar. I am.”

“Okay, I’m here. Remember that.” She hugged me close.

I hugged her back breathing her in. She always carried the smell of mint and jasmine and it always comforted me.  “I will.”

We parted ways, and I shuffled down the hall to my first class of the day, hoping it went by as quick as possible.

At eight o’clock I ran down the stairs to the front door before anyone could see me. I’d told my mom I was hanging at Dahlia’s, but I knew she’d question me, if she saw that I was wearing a short skirt, tank, knee high black boots and a lot of makeup.

I made it to the door and snagged my cropped jean jacket from the coat hanger, but didn’t make it out the door before Mark came around the corner and gawked at me.

“Where are you going?”

“To Dahlia’s.”

He eyed me up and down. “Is she having a party?”

“No. We’re just going to hang out.”

“You’re a bit overdressed, or underdressed for that, don’t you think?”

I was surprised by Mark’s comments. He was usually not one for disciplining me or questioning me.

My mom came down the hall from the kitchen. “Heading to Dahlia’s?”

I nodded.

“You’re going to let her out like that?” Mark asked my mom.

He must’ve taken her by surprise as well, because she frowned. “What’s wrong with what she’s wearing? She looks cute.”

He rubbed a hand over his face.  He looked frustrated. Maybe work wasn’t going well.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just feeling a little worn out.”

“You’ve been working too hard.” My mom put her arm around him.

“You’re probably right.”

“Go have fun, honey,” she said and smiled.

Slipping my jacket on, I opened the door and left before my clothes started an argument between my parents and me.  I really didn’t need that kind of hassle right now. Especially not when I was blatantly lying to them as it was.

The second I pulled up in front of Dahlia’s house, she came running out. I parked, and got out of the car. She hugged me and I could smell the booze on her breath.

“You’ve been drinking already?”

“Yeah girl. I have a flask in my purse, do you want some?” She dug in her purse and pulled out the silver decanter. She unscrewed the cap and tipped it to her lips, then handed it to me.

I took a sip and nearly choked on the burning liquid searing my throat. “What the hell is it?”

“Whiskey. Swiped it from the old man.”  She took another sip, then capped it and put it back into her bag.

Just as she did that, another car pulled up behind mine. It was an old beat up BMW. The door opened and Patrick stepped out.

I tried not to gape, but the guy looked hella different. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. His hair was a sexy mess of tawny waves. He wore jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket over it all.  He looked a lot like the 50 Shades actor, Jamie Dornan. I definitely approved.

“Jesus,” Dahlia said, while fanning herself.  “He went from Geek hot to Mr. Hottie Pants.”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward his car. “C’mon.”

“Hey.” He smiled, as he drew the hair from his eyes.

“Hey,” I said, feeling like a complete doofus.

“You look great.”

I blushed a little.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t I look great too, Pat?” Dahlia struck a pose, that had her butt sticking out and her boobs.  She looked constipated to me.

“Sure,” he said with a laugh, then he opened the passenger door for me, and the back door for Dahlia.

Before I got in, I said, “You know we really didn’t have to do all this cloak and dagger stuff. I’m sure Mark would’ve been fine with us going out.”

“Maybe. I just don’t want to take the chance.”

“Afraid he’ll fire you?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

I got a sense it was more than that, but I didn’t say anything, and just slid into his car. He shut the door and jumped into the driver’s seat.

When we arrived at the club, there was a bit of a lineup, but the bouncer let us in right away.  He and Patrick did some handshake thing, and he unhooked the velvet rope immediately for us. I couldn’t believe it. Patrick just didn’t seem like the clubbing type, especially not a guy who was well known. He was full of surprises.

The club was loud, wild and packed with all types of young people.  Patrick found us a table, and got us drinks.  Before I could even take a few sips, Dahlia was bouncing up and down to the music.

“I have to dance, or I’m going to die.”

“Then go dance,” I said.

Instead she eyed Patrick, like she was hunting.  “Dance with me.”