Even Wilder

Violet

I dropped the last of my things on the floor in my bedroom and let out a sigh. I was back at college, living with my roommate. Back to the life I didn't want.

I walked into the living area. And Kat looked up from her computer. "Hey, Violet."

She was so indifferent with just about everything, a total wacky bitch. Some days I didn't know if she was going to cut me in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. I told myself she just had a lot on her plate with college. And to give it time and she would ease up. But half the school year came and went, and we were hardly friends.

I never told her I dropped out and was never coming back, so it was a lot easier to come back again.

"How was the trip home?"

"Great. Saw my mom, saw Wilder, and then I came back." I left out all the parts where I balled my eyes out for three days in my bedroom and dodged Wilder on my way back.

I sat down on the couch and checked my Facebook. Pictures from Wilder's birthday were everywhere. Everyone had tagged him in everything. I didn't bother liking a single one.

I went to messenger and thought about telling him I was home. He'd be glad to know it. But I didn't. I was still upset with him. He hadn't even checked in again, which wasn't like him. He always checked in. He forever was making sure I was alright. Maybe he was trying to prove something.

I yanked the scrunchie from my hair and posed for a selfie. I puckered my lips and took the picture. I studied it and tried again, this time fluffing my hair. I didn't know what I was doing.

"Do you need help?" Kat asked. "Are you trying to impress Wilder?"

Ugh. "No. I just..." I posted the selfie on my Facebook and waited to see what happened. I never posted pictures of myself. I didn't want anyone seeing me.

"Did you meet someone?"

I sighed.

She stood up, carrying her laptop with her. "Someone is on their period."

I glared at her as she headed for her bedroom and waited for her to shut the door and leave me alone.

I got the notification that Wilder commented on my picture. I hurried to see what it said. What words would he finally say after so many days?

"What the fuck?" One emoji. A blushing smiley face? That's all I got after sixteen years of friendship with him. He knew where I was, that I wasn't across the street, and he sent me a blushing emoji?

I guess he didn't care. Maybe the girl he fucked last night was still lying in his bed.

***

Without Wilder, my life was boring. And being away from home left me with a lot of free time. Usually, Wilder texted me all weekend. We face-timed for hours and watched new movies after he was finished partying. He never let me feel lonely. I think we both missed each other and were too stubborn to admit it.

Tonight was different. I was alone. Kat was out with her friends partying like always, and I was stuck in our apartment pacing around trying to come up with something constructive to do.

I popped popcorn and watched a movie. And halfway through, I couldn't take it anymore and turned off the television.

I was done waiting around for Wilder. I got myself dressed and let my hair down literally and wandered outside of my apartment.

There was a board by the mailboxes where everyone posted flyers of everything going on around campus. As I stared at the board, one caught my eye—art on the boardwalk. That sounded simple enough. A way to get out and do something. I liked art. I could handle taking a walk by the water and admiring things I would never be able to do myself. I wasn't a creative person. I couldn't even draw a stick figure—but I knew how to appreciate it.

I headed down the street. On foot, it was a ten-minute walk. So I didn't need a cab or an uber.

I checked Facebook on the way there to keep from mingling with the college kids sitting at the diner tables outside the restaurants. Wilder was partying with Saint and his friends. And by the look on his face in the pictures he was in, he was happy not talking to me.

I checked out every art exhibit on the boardwalk. I even complimented the college kids brave enough to venture outside with their work. It wasn't the best time, but it was something.

The last booth was packing up when I finally stopped. I admired the sea glass necklaces and the delicate metals shaped into rings.

One caught my eye. I touched the pinkish stone, thinking about Wilder and me when we were kids. One Christmas he used all his money to buy me this beautiful bracelet. It had pink stones just like the necklace. He was so happy to see the smile on my face—so proud of what he did with what little he had. It was my favorite memory of him.

"See anything you like?" Dark hair and blue eyes were staring at me.

"It's all gorgeous," I said. And it was. While everyone else was making paintings and drawing, this guy's booth was the only one with something different.

"Thanks." He gestured toward the one I was still touching. "You like it?"

I pulled my hand away. "Yeah. It reminds me of when I was little." I smiled, and he did the same. An effortless grin that hardly changed his serious expression but enough to tell me he appreciated what I had to say.

He dropped down under the table and brought up a box. "Well, check this out." He looked around as he pulled the lid off his merchandise. "We have to close up, but I'll show this to ya."

He pulled out a tray of rings. "These match your eyes." His fingers crashed into mine unexpectedly. He handed over the ring.

"You made these?" I asked. He nodded. "It's pretty impressive."

He shook his head when I tried giving it back. "I want you to have it."

"What?" That was silly. He didn't even know me.

"I want you to have it. Put it on." I did. I studied it on my finger. It was beautiful.

"It looks great. Care if I snap a picture?"

I eyed him suspiciously. "Of me?"

He was now grinning at me. "Yeah, of you. We can call it a customer review. What do you think?"

I touched my hair. I was sure it was a mess. But I also didn't want to be rude. "Okay."

He pulled out his phone. "Have you done this before?"

"Done what?" I pushed my hair behind my ears and stared at the camera. I just wanted him to take the picture. I didn't like feeling on display.

"Model."

I let out a laugh mixed with a snort at such a ridiculous statement. Me model? Yeah right.

"You're beautiful." He showed me the picture. The golden rays of sun against my hair and skin, he was right. Maybe it was a good picture. "All these girls run around caked in makeup. But not you. You're just...you."

I dropped my gaze to the ring, hoping this wasn't a cruel joke. "Thanks for the ring."

"No problem."

I needed to get home. It was getting late.

"I'm Mac, by the way." He said.

"Violet," I said back. I gave a little wave. Mac kept his eyes on me.

"Nice to meet you, Violet."