Some Kind of Hero

Chapter 3

The next day, Saturday, Anya walked into the cafeteria to find Violet in line for breakfast.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Anya asked as she put a bowl on her tray and filled it with Peanut Butter Crunch.

Violet nodded.

"You speak all these languages. Where is your family from?"

Violet looked around to make sure no one else was within earshot. "My mother was German." She replied softly. "I never really knew my father."

"Did he leave?"

Violet shook her head.

"Do you mind telling me what happened to him?"

Violet took a deep breath. "If I tell you, you get to ask one follow-up question, and that's it."

Seeing how serious Violet was, Anya nodded. "Alright."

Violet looked her in the eyes. "My mother raped my father to have me."

Anya's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Can I hug you?"

Violet was visibly surprised, but she nodded and set down her tray, so Anya did the same before hugging her.

"I'm sorry, kid." Anya whispered. "I can't imagine what that's like, but I bet it sucks."

Violet closed her eyes and hugged back briefly, then she pulled away.

"Thanks." She said, picking up her tray.

"I'm looking!"

Anya turned to see Cassie digging through a wicker basket filled with single-serving cups of butter, peanut butter, jelly, and honey. After a moment, she pulled out two cups of creamy peanut butter and placed them next to the empty plate on her tray.

"There, happy?" Cassie asked, making her way to the waffle maker. "You saw what I saw. That's all that was left."

"Picky eater?" Anya inquired.

"Abby is, yeah." Cassie replied as she poured batter into the mold, closed it, and turned it over. "Loves peanut butter on waffles, but only creamy. She hates chunky."

"What about you?"

"I'm not a fan of chunky, but I don't hate it. Abby, on the other hand..."

"Gotcha." Anya poured milk over her cereal.

"Did Violet tell you about her mom?"

"Yeah."

"She doesn't tell a lot of people." Cassie grabbed an orange, smelled it, and put it back. "Do her a favor. Don't go telling everyone." She grabbed a different one, smelled it, and set it on her tray.

"Of course." Anya filled a cup with apple juice. "I don't have a perfect record for keeping secrets, but something that personal? I wouldn't dare."

"Okay, good."

"So what-"

Hearing something hit the floor, they turned and saw Decker standing next to the table where Barry was sitting. Based on the orange juice running down Barry's face, the tray laying face-down on the floor, and the bits of food on the table and floor, Anya was able to piece together that Decker had dumped his tray on Barry, though their facial expressions gave her no clues as to whether or not it had been intentional. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Okay, what the hell?" Barry asked, pushing his chair back and standing up.

"I slipped." Decker explained flatly. "It was nobody's fault."