"…..Vivienna?" Successfully managing to mix up which name she was supposed to add an extra letter to, Violeta gave Gray a quizzical look. "Do we even have a Vivienna? Is that a name?" After a beat of silence, she sighed. "Why don't you just… ask her out, for god's sake?"
Gray groaned, running a hand through his hair.
“Fine,” he breathed out in annoyance. “I’ll ask her out. God, the answer is so damn obvious.”
"Great," Violeta answered as the triumphant smile returned to her face. "Let me know when you do."
“Violet,” Gray stopped walking and stood in front of her, locking eyes with her. It was a terrible idea. He shouldn’t be doing this. It would compromise everything he had built. Whatever that was slowly building. “That’s one of my favorite colors. The girl I like is called Violeta. Ironically, that girl is also in front of me, telling me to ask the girl I like out. So, Violeta, will you go out with me?”
His words struck her like a slap in the face.
For a single moment, Violeta's heart soared—–Someone's asking me out, someone likes me enough to ask me out—–but it came crashing back down before a second had passed. Hurt spread like a wildfire across her features, something wounded and vulnerable rising to her eyes. She took a small step backwards… and something inside her broke.
"I thought we were getting somewhere." Her voice wobbled dangerously, bitterness seeping into her tone. "I thought you were done with mocking me. But it turns out, all you care about is making me feel inferior. Well, congratulations, Gray. You tricked the stupid fat girl into thinking that someone could ever like her."
Gray thought he saw surprised and maybe happiness flash across her face. Until it was overtaken by hurt and vulnerability and plain disgust. It made Gray flinch.
And then her words. Bitter, harsh words. He thought he was mocking her? And—stupid? Fat? What?
“Hold on, what?” Gray stared at her wide-eyed. “I want to make you feel inferior? Where in the freaking world did you get that idea from? What in the world are you on about? Do you seriously actually think that lowly of me?”
He was lying to her again. Twisting her words and throwing them back in her face, trying to manipulate her. But four years of constant, ceaseless torture from most of her classmates had given Violeta a surprisingly tough, paranoid, and incredibly insecure shell.
“Four years, Gray,” she continued, but the anger and hurt trickled from her voice, leaving it exhausted and weary. “You know, I used to get really happy when guys flirted with me. Then I saw them running back to their friends to laugh at me. So it’s not that I think lowly of you, it’s that I’m sick and tired of being a target. Find another girl to lie to.. I’m not naive enough to believe you anymore.”
At first, Gray stared blankly at her. This girl—this wonderful, beautiful girl had people stab her in the back like that? This amazing girl, who felt nothing but love and loyalty, even for those she hated, was treated like that? Suddenly, he didn’t feel insulted anymore. He felt furious.
“Who were they?” He all but snarled, clenching his fists. “Do I know them?” Then he paused. “No, tell me that later. First of all, I’ll clarify something to you. Everything I said to you, it’s only ever been the truth. I’ve never lied to you. The first time I saw you four years ago, I thought you were the most beautiful girl and to this day, you’re still the most beautiful girl in my eyes. At first I thought I was just losing my mind. I didn’t know what was driving me crazy. Why did I always want to see you? Why did I always want to make you smile? And it drive me wild. So I took a turn to the worst. I wanted to get rid of this feeling because I couldn’t afford to have feelings for anyone. I knew the damage it could do to people. The flirting, the sleeping around—I started doing that more often. I thought it would get rid of what I felt for you, but it didn’t. It only made it worse.
“And I thought once high school ended, I wouldn’t have to see you anymore. This beautiful, wonderful, amazing girl—I’d finally move on from her. But I didn’t because surprise! You’re still my classmate. I’m still madly pining after you. I’m still crushing after you because every time you freaking smile, it’s like the whole world lights up. And don’t get me started on that laugh. I could hear it for years and still demand an encore. I would die to hear it again. And goddamn it, I’m always hungry for it to be directed at me. Your smile, your laughter, you.” Gray panted heavily, running an exhausted hand through his hair. “So no, Violeta. I’m not leading you on. I’m not lying to you. Whether you want to believe me or not, that’s up to you. But don’t you dare call yourself fat again.”
It felt a little bit like the world was crashing down around her.
Violeta just stood there, gaping at this mystery of a man, her brain short-circuiting as if failed to comprehend the mountain of emotions Gray had just dumped out over her head.
“I——What?” she breathed, her eyes wider than they’d ever been before. “You—That’s not possible.”
And it wasn’t. How could he, the flirty, ridiculously attractive guy who had always been on the popular side of the spectrum, like her? That much. It simply couldn’t happen. It was insane. The thought of anyone having half the feelings he had just described for her was absolutely crazy.
But the sincerity in his eyes was overwhelming. The pain etched into his face looked so real———how could anyone lie and act this well? Again, it wasn’t possible.
Which left her with an unsolvable enigma.
“Gray—“ Violeta forced out, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “You’re popular, in not. You’re attractive, I’m… I’m—fat. Disgusting. Unlikeable. What you’re saying isn’t possible.”
“What does popularity have to do with anything?” Gray demanded. “If I’m popular, it takes away my choices? If I’m popular, I can’t fall for you? Bullshit. And screw the good looks. Scratch that, let’s talk about yours. Your beautiful, dark eyes that I find myself getting lost into nearly every time we speak. Didn’t you ever notice how I never directly looked into your eyes? Or the fact that whenever we talked, I occasionally seemed to be lost in something? You could look at me with those eyes, tell me to stab myself, and I would do it.
“And those acne scars on your jaw. Do you have any freaking idea how pretty they make you? Then there’s your thick hair. I’ve always, always wanted to run my fingers through it, even if it was for just a second. And then your dimples. On everyone else, they look normal. When I see them on you, it drives me crazy. I keep wondering to myself, is this girl real? How can she be so damn beautiful? How can she do this to me without even trying to? And you know what? I think that’s what I like most about you. You’re modest. You don’t flaunt your beauty. You keep yourself in check. You’re honest and you’re you. I like that so goddamn much because I don’t even know who I am.
“And then your lips. Do you have any idea how long I think about them? How many times I’ve dreamt about them—about kissing you? Hell, I even day dream about them. Being near you is so exhausting and tiring and hard because all I want to do is kiss you senseless and make you mine. That’s how crazy I am for you.”
Violeta’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, and all of a sudden, she was afraid. She was terrified. She had spent years and years hoping and praying that someone would fall for her, and now, out of the blue, this enormous possibility was being shoved into her hands and she had no idea what to do with it.
“Gray—“ He couldn’t be lying about this. No one could lie that well. No one would go that far for a cruel trick. Violeta found herself taking a small step backwards, eyes round and wide. “Shit—I—I need some space to think.”
She didn’t need to, Gray realized. The fearful look on her face told him so. She was still afraid of him. It was worse than any wound inflicted on him.
“You don’t need to,” he said instead, looking away quietly. “I’m madly in love with you, Violeta. So goddamn much. But it’s okay. I never expected you to return what I feel for you. I never expected anything more, and I certainly won’t accept anything even now. You don’t need to think about anything.” He sighed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry. I should go. I’ll see you later. Maybe.”
Gray turned around to leave, and the burden that came with loving Violeta only seemed to double in its weight.
Violeta could only watch as he walked away from her, struggling to fit the pieces of the fragile thing she’d broken back together.
Shit. I messed up—
Her heart still pounded with wild abandon. Her cheeks were still tinted pink. And she wanted nothing more than to apologize until her throat was raw and bleeding.
I’m not afraid of you. I’m sorry—come back.
He didn’t.
“Gray? What are you doing here?”
When Gray left Violeta, he found himself in front of a classroom. Laura’s. He didn’t even know he was going there until he was in front of the doorway—until her voice interrupted him.
He turned around to look at her, his expression broken and helpless, and her furious one immediately melted.
“Gray?” She said this softly this time, and the taller male closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her and nearly causing them to tumble over. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Everything,” Gray mumbled into her shoulder miserably. “Everything’s wrong. The first person I think of as a friend, I mess up and she’s angry at me. And the girl I love—she’s terrified of me. She thinks my feelings for her are a joke. I’m tired, Laura. I’m so goddamn tired.”
“Hey, you’re going to be okay,” Laura murmured, wrapping her own arms around him and running her fingers through his hairs soothingly. “Everything is going to work out just fine. Maybe she needs some time to process things. She’ll realize your feelings for her are genuine. Come on, why don’t we get you all fixed up?”
“I’m sorry,” Gray mumbled. “For saying those things to you. I miss your stupid face.”
Laura laughed. “You’re forgiven, you idiot. And I missed your ugly mug, too. Now let’s go. I’m skipping class for you. Feel special.”
Violeta didn’t know how long she stood there, shocked to the bone, staring at the spot Gray had been standing in just minutes ago. She was frozen, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he had just confessed love for her——how was she supposed to understand that?
But, after a while, a hand settled on her shoulder. She glanced to the side… and her eyes clashed with Josh’s.
“Hey,” he greeted, concern lining his features. “You good?”
“Okay, you big baby,” Laura finished wrapping a blanket around Gray. The latter looked a bit irked at that, which made the pink-haired girl more excited in annoying him. “Tell me what’s wrong now.”
They were in Laura’s dorm after he went to her. He couldn’t bear staying at college. Not when he still had another class with her.
“She thought we were dating, and that it was you I liked—“ Laura pretended to gag. “But I told her it wasn’t you. We started playing a guessing game. She couldn’t guess who it was that I liked, but kept on pushing me to tell the girl. So I did. I told her I liked her. I confessed to her. And she looked at me like I was the dirtiest thing she had ever seen. Laura, you should have seen her face. She was terrified. And now I just don’t know what to do. How can I ever show her my face again?”
“No,” Violeta blurted before she could stop herself. “I mean, yes. Yes. I—I’m fine.”
Josh sighed slowly. “Violeta, you’re obviously far from fine. I saw you talking to Gray—what did he say to you? Is this his fault?”
She shook her head quickly, automatically.
Laura pulled the male into her arms, slowly running her fingers through his hair again, scratching the scalp soothingly as she did so.
“I think she’s just a little overwhelmed,” she said softly. “Give her time and space. She’ll give you her answer. I promise she will.”
“I’m lost,” Gray murmured. “Laura, what if she’s in love with that Josh guy? He nearly challenged me for her.”
Laura snorted.
“Him? Ugh, dude, he’s got nothing that you’ve got,” Laura shook her head. “You’re smart, funny, loyal, maybe a bit of a moron, and you’ve Laura Atkinson as your wing woman slash best friend—and yes, I am your best friend and there is nothing you can say or do about it. So really, he’s lacking. A lot.”
"I screwed up," she told him miserably, "And I've been screwing up for the past four years. And I don't know what to do. That's all I'm going to say on the matter." Violeta stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned away, fumbling around to find her earphones. Music—that was what she needed. Music fixed everything. She was going to get home, blast some Heathers, and paint until her hands fell off. Then she was going to curl up in bed and think until she knew how to fix this horrible mess.
Suddenly, she remembered her roommate. Blunt, tough, amazing Lillian who had hidden wisdom beyond her years. She would know what to do—right? But before she could make her escape, Josh was tugging her back.
"Hey, c'mon," he murmured soothingly, "Why don't I buy you some hot chocolate? It'll make you feel better, I promise."
But she shook her head, overwhelmed with guilt. "I–I need to get back to my room. I'm sorry."
Gray snorted, but didn’t contradict her.
“It’ll be hard if she did,” he murmured to her. “Like him, I mean. What if she and him are trying to make a fool off me?”
“She isn’t,” Laura assured him. “Now stop sulking and let’s watch a movie.”
Violeta practically ran back.
She fumbled with the key in the lock, stumbling into her room—and almost crashed straight into Lillian. The girl opened her mouth to complain, but paused when she took in the stricken look on her roommate's face. "Violeta?" She frowned. "What's wrong?
"I messed up," she breathed, pushing past Lillian to get to her bed. "Lillian, I messed up badly. And I don't know how to fix what I broke."
Lillian arched an eyebrow. "What did you break?"
Violeta hid her face in her hands. "Gray's heart."
“I don’t want to watch anything,” Gray whined. “I want to sulk.”
“You big baby,” Laura crooned, pulling on his ear. “I’m playing Big Hero 6. You like that, don’t you?”
Gray glared at, but didn’t say anything.
“… yes…” he mumbled after a while. “I like it.”
Laura beamed. “Great.”
Lillian stared at her for a solid thirty seconds.
"I knew it," she said after a moment, lips twisting into a grin. "I knew he liked you. I just didn't think you'd ever believe it. What did you do wrong?"
Violeta swallowed thickly. "It's worse than that…" she told Lillian quietly. "He said—He said he—He said he loves me. And I believe him because he asked me out, and when I sort of… broke, and spilled everything out and he understood why I had been avoiding him, he went on a two-minute rant on how beautiful and amazing I was. And I panicked and told him I needed space to think. And now he thinks I'm scared of him. And I'm not—I'm just overwhelmed and have no idea what to do. Basically, I screwed up."
Lillian blinked.
[TIME SKIP - the next day]
Violeta barely slept. All night, she tossed and turned, plagued with nauseating amounts of shame and guilt. The temporary peace that had come with her Comfort Music playlist and a bucket of paint had ebbed away, leaving her stressed and overwhelmed. Lillian's advice—to talk it out with him—had been good advice… but she didn't think she was ready for that. There wasn't really much she could do except avoid him until her hopelessly entangled thoughts had been sorted out.
When she arrived at her Studio Art class the next day, Violeta just grabbed an easel and went to the far corner of the classroom. She needed space to think, and with a huge project looming close, this whole dilemma with Gray was overcomplicating everything. "Create something that confuses you," the teacher had instructed the class, "This month's project is to create a series of multi-media art pieces… with the theme of riddles and mysteries. If you can capture confusion through colour and shape, you're doing something right."
It took Violeta thirty minutes to realize that she was painting Gray.
The moment the realization hit, she was reaching forwards to smudge the face of the man on the canvas. For a few minutes after, she just stood and stared at the painting she had begun, ogled at the deep blue and purple strokes, bold and abstracted, from which the familiar figure of a man emerged. For the rest of the class, she did her best to get lost in her music, continuing the painting but leaving the subject's face blank and featureless. By the time the end of the morning rolled around, it was nearly finished.
The second class ended, Laura slipped out quickly, knowing Gray would be there. She needed to do something, and she didn’t want him to know. He’d get upset with her. Again. She didn’t want that.
Laura was near the Art class when she caught sight of the girl in her friend’s heart. The girl who broke his heart without even knowing how fragile it was.
“Violeta?” She tilted her head upon reaching her. “Can we talk? Privately?”