violets are blue

seven

I'm not too sure where I am in the house, exactly, but the door has a lock and there's a clean-ish bed, so it can't be too bad. Plus, it's quiet here, and I want some time to myself. My first party - and this is how I'm spending it.

God, it's such a cliché.

"Violet, it's me," I hear Emme say. I'm curious as to how she found me, but I also don't really care. "I'm sorry about fighting with Ruby. Can I come in?"
I sniff. Maybe it would do me good, to have some company instead of moping. I get up, unlock the door, and open it.

Emme's eyes are shining, and she still has the red solo cup in her hand. "I shouldn't have acted out," she says. "It just- it irritates me, seeing her act like you getting a boyfriend is paramount to having a social life. I know you love her. I just hope you can understand why I was annoyed."
"I'm not sure if I love her after all," I whisper, and Emme's head snaps up.

Here's the thing; before Emme, Ruby was my sun, my moon and my stars. I had no other friends, no other company; just Ruby and my sisters and, very occasionally, my mother. It's easy to grow blind to a person's flaws when there's no other viable alternative. But in the past few weeks - I don't know. There's more diversity to the people in my life, and now little things about her (the list, the way she talks about my sisters) are bugging me. Ruby is still my best friend. I just don't think I love her so deeply anymore. Maybe I wasn't all that in love with her in the first place, although I definitely did love her, and maybe even still do. Tonight, I saw a completely different side to her, and I think it was too easy to pretend like it never existed when deep down, I always knew it did.

"Don't say stupid things," Emme says. "You're pissed off right now, I get that, but you don't just get over people that quickly. This isn't a romance novel, Violet. This is real life. Feelings don't turn on and off like that."
"It's not like that," I shake my head. "I can't explain it. Ruby will always be my best friend but....right now, I think maybe I'm coming to terms with the fact that that's all she'll ever be. It doesn't mean what I felt for her wasn't real, and it doesn't mean my time on her was wasted, but I'm not so blind anymore. You've made me see that."

Emme bites her lip, and says, "Please don't be mad, but I kind of want to kiss you."
I figure maybe I should be scared, or shocked, or whatever. I don't feel like that at all. I'm not sure how I feel, but I don't want her not to kiss me, so I say, "Kiss me, then."
Emme's eyes are a black sky devoid of stars. We both hesitate in the doorway for a moment, before she leans forward in her stupidly high platform heels and kisses me, chaste, on the mouth.

Every love story says you feel sparks and fireworks after your first kiss. I don't feel any of that. Instead, I feel Emme's warm mouth on mine, her pulse thrumming, her slightly flaky coat of lipstick pressing against my shiny lipgloss. That doesn't mean I don't like it, though. In fact, I like it a lot.

Emme pulls away. "I told you," she says, leaning against the door frame. Her face is backlit by fairylights, the shadows of her cheekbones warped and curving. "I like you a lot, Violet."
So I kiss her again. And again. I kiss her until my entire heart spills out, just through kisses, and I know it sounds stupid, but it feels real to me.

We decide to venture back downstairs, where the couch has a few more inches of space than it did last time. I hesitate by it, and Emme gives me a tiny push. "Sit," she instructs, and I look back at her.
"What about you?"
"Sit," she repeats, so I squeeze past Carmen Adiquas and Curtis Rykel and settle into the small gap by the arm. Emme immediately sits on my lap, and I hear Carmen snort as I gasp a little.
"You could've warned me," I whine, and she shrugs and leans into me, her short hair tickling my neck. She still has her cup in her hand.
"Try some," she nudges it towards me, and I shake my head.
"I've driving, remember?"
"Okay, well, take it with you and try it when you get home," she decides, and thrusts the cup in my hand before standing back up and crossing the room to get another. Carmen leans across the couch to talk to me, her purple hair and monolid dark eyes flickering in the dimness.