We've spent the past week getting to know each other.
Her favorite color is blue, her favorite flower is a daisy.
Her room at home is the color of lavender, and is sparsely decorated.
She has two dogs, Milo and Lotus. She had a cat named Simon. He died when she was two.
Her mom and dad are both lawyers, rich, and live in Malibu.
Violet has two brothers and a sister.
River, George, and Rose are their names.
13, 19, and 16 years old.
Her last name is Porter.
And the real kicker?
She likes girls.
We share clothes most days, except that her shoe size is .5 of a size smaller than mine.
We've gone shopping twice together in one week, and I notice a lot of shop owners staring at her.
Female shop owners.
I asked her about it once, and she blushed and shook her head.
Tonight, we're in the city. We walk down to the club she's picked for tonight, Underbar, and both order martinis.
There are people everywhere. "It's so loud!" I scream to Violet. I'm not sure if she heard me, though.
She's already on the dance floor, sliding in step with another girl. I turn away, back to the bar.
{2b, Violet}
I'm dancing in step with a girl named Samantha. She is pretty, and drunk.
Really, really drunk.
And she's really, really, pretty.
But she's not Camille.
The songs that play send adrenaline through my bones, and I feel like I'm floating.
I've only had one drink, and I still feel drunk off my feet.
Camille and I meet up, and catch a taxi home.
We arrive at the dorm, giggling.
The night proved to be longer than I had expected, considering we remained at the bar for the better part of 5 hours.
I wonder how Camille stomached that. I watched her spend the night at the bar, glancing at her watch every other minute. I almost asked her to dance with me.
"Camille?" I asked, my eyes shining with drunken happiness.
"Violet?" She retorted, and I giggled. Why is everything so funny?
"Tell me about Jordan." I demand.
{2c, Camille}
"He's my boyfriend." I shrug. "He never gels his hair, he wears beanies and flannels and jeans. He drives a Honda. He listens to rock music, like Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins. He reads novels. He's 22."
"An older man." Violet adds with a giggle.
I roll my eyes. "He wears reading glasses, and always smells like cinnamon. He plays soccer, and gives the warmest hugs." I smile fondly as my mind travels down memory lane.
He runs up to me in the pouring rain, holding out his umbrella. He stands half underneath and half in the rain, giving me the handle. He leads me into our favorite coffee shop, and orders my favorite drink. He comes back and kisses my cheek, and I smile.
Violet stands up, and I follow suit. "Why are we standing?" I ask, confused.
"I'm going to give you a better hug." Violet says, and wraps her arms around me, picking my up off the ground and spinning me around as if I am weightless. I let out a shriek, and she sets me down gently.
"I don't know... Close second." I say, and grin.
"Please." She scoffs. "That's just because you've slept with him."
I gasp, swatting her arm. "Vi!" I reprimand, and she laughs. She shrugs, with a wink.
We collapse into a fit of giggles.
And I feel the adrenaline coursing through me,
as we each collapse into our beds,
even as I close my eyes.
