The Boy Who Solved Crimes

Holiday Special

5 years ago...

Violet

"Aaron!" I called, "you left your backpack in the sink again! Why do you always do that? You can literally place it on the fl..." I groaned, grabbing Aaron's backpack, then deciding against it. It had become a habit of his to toss his bag into the sink when we entered my house. He had been doing it for a couple months now, thinking I wouldn't notice.

Instead, I opened it to check that there was nothing important inside— only to find that it was empty. I turned on the faucet, my heart racing as an evil smile stretched across my face.

I felt mischievous. His backpack filled with water quickly, soaking every burgundy corner.

"A, why do you even carry a backpack if you don't keep anything inside?!" I said, snickering softly to myself. Aaron entered my kitchen, a mischievous smile that mirrored mine on his face.

I eyed him suspiciously. I knew he might've heard my thoughts before entering, but his eyes never glanced at his wet backpack.

"What?" I asked, a huge smile on his face as I crossed my arms and turned off the faucet.

"Vy, you'd say we're friends, right?"

"Right," I dragged out the word skeptically. I didn't know what sort of tricks he had up his sleeves, but I could tell he was hiding something; he never smiled that wide otherwise. The smile never faded from his face.

"So— as friends, you wouldn't mind me staying over this weekend, right?" He asked, crossing his arms as I eyed him even more suspiciously.

"Actually, I do mind." I responded, "and keep your backpack out of my sink or I'll keep soaking it." I said, feeling my cheeks turn a bizarre shade of pink as I walked past him, his smell surrounding me as a pleasant scent filled my nostrils.

It had been a year since the craziness had happened in our town. A year seemed like a long time, but my mom still mourned for Ethan, Amy still mourned for Bailey, and the whole town, especially Stacy, still mourned for Jared. Tyler and Trina had disappeared and even stopped responding to Aaron's messages after a couple months. I wondered if they were okay, but I genuinely wouldn't have been fazed if I had found out that something awful happened to them. Everything seemed so surreal, I feel like I had just shut it out and decided to procrastinate processing what happened.

The fact that my dad was now in jail, the days I had spent in his basement, the way he had acted when he saw Joseph in my room. I still had nightmares, but I refused to think about these things. Holding grudges and hatred toward my past would only hurt me; it was the harder option, but I had decided to forgive and move forward. Why stress about something you cannot change?

"Wait, Violet." Aaron said and my feet were suddenly no longer on the floor. I looked down at my black suede boots floating a foot above the hardwood floor of my living room. The sunlight from my window left a strange-looking shadow in front of me as I pursed my lips.

"Aaron, put me down," I complained, "if you're going to sweep me off my feet, at least do it with your own hands." I crossed my arms.

He chuckled, still standing in the kitchen. I couldn't contain my smile as he laughed.

"I'd love to sweep you off your feet." Aaron said, slowly approaching me as I floated a foot above the ground, completely at his mercy. "I've been meaning to ask you this for a while, Violet." Aaron approached me as I remained floating in my living room. I crossed my arms as we now stood eye to eye and my heart hammered rapidly, skipping a couple beats. He seemed unfazed by how close we were, and I was thankful he couldn't hear what I was thinking as we stared into each other's eyes. He held one of my hands in his, intertwining our fingers, but his eyes never left mine. It felt strange to be at the same level as him, feeling taller than I had ever felt before as my breath hitched and my all my hormones were out of wack.