Finding Violet

Violet Van Dine

"I'm never going to see him again, Jenny!" I had balled, squeezing my pillow tighter. "How will I ever cope?" Jenny shushed me, stroking my hair as I closed my eyes. With my nose pressed against the soft fabric, I breathed in Warner's scent. It was his pillow, the pillow he had given me only an hour before. With tears brimming his giant forest green eyes and shaky hands, he had placed it into my arms. I always loved it, growing up, and still to this day; my seventeenth birthday. 

"Vi, he's not worth it, okay? You deserve someone who feels the same way about you!" I knew she was trying to help, but for some reason that made me feel ten times worse. I let out a loud groan before pulling up my bed sheets over my face. I heard her mumble 'shit' and let out a sigh. I felt her stand up. 

"I can't believe the Violet Van Dine is loosing control over some boy." Her voice was strong, no caution. I peeked out of the covers. She had her arms crossed and was standing over the bed, shaking her head. 

"You know, I knew this would be hard for you when you called me crying over the phone, but for god sakes, Vi. Get your self together!" She yelled. I rolled onto my stomach. "You don't understand, Jenny! I love him!" I pathetically wailed. She sat on the bed next to me and grabbed my shoulders, yanking and rolling me onto my back before sitting me up. "Are you sure you one hundred percent love that boy?" She asked me.

Sniffing, I nodded my head, not letting my eyes stray from hers. 

She stared straight back as she said, "Then you better get off your ass and go get him." 

I had no idea how I had gotten myself here, running through JFK airport. This is ridiculous, I thought, shoving my way through a group of people. I didn't even know why I was here, running after a boy I knew didn't have the same feelings for me as I did for him. How Jenny even got me to come here was a mystery to me, but I knew that if I didn't tell him now, I would regret it for the rest of my life. 

But what if he rejects me?

I shook my head. Not now. In the cab to the airport, Jenny had called to tell me that Warner's flight had been delayed, but only for an hour. My watch told me I had four minutes. 

I turned the corner, my feet sliding on the slippery tile. The terminal Warner was supposedly at came into sight and I saw that there were people still sitting there. I thanked God. The intercom came on, announcing the flight was ready for boarding. I cursed at God.

I ran. I ran until my lungs gave out and I couldn't feel my feet anymore. I wasn't controlling them. There he was, standing at the desk holding out his passport for the flight attendant to take.

"Warner St. Claire!" I yelled. The voice didn't sound like my own. It was someone stronger, someone weaker. 

He turned around, the mess of brown hair atop his head flopping in front of his eyes. He smiled, it was pitiful and I felt my stomach clench. I smiled wealky.

He had a picture in his hands, and tear stains down his cheeks. I whipped the tears with the pad of my thumb, took the picture out of his hands. It was us, maybe only eight years old. I was stealing his ice cream. Typical. 

I looked up, and my mouth went dry. I didn't even know what speaking was. How do you do it? I wouldn't have none. He had always stolen my breath away.

"I love you." It had taken a couple of times, but the flight attendant had gotten annoyed about the amount of time we were waiting. Thankfully, Ben was the last one in line to board. 

He stared down at me, before closing his eyes. He squeezed them shut.

As he opened them, his eyes were a brighter shade, rimmed with new tears. He shook his head. And Warner did the last thing I thought he would have. He did not kiss me. He did not hug me or return the words. This is not a movie. Warner St. CLaire handed the attendant his boarding pass and left.