Violetta (Violet) Jackson has big dreams. None of which happen to include sitting in detention for a week straight for a lab disaster that wasn't even her fault. That's all thanks to Will Hawthorne, his friends (one of whom she unfortunately used to...
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When I arrived at La Promenade that day, I had never been so relieved to spot Jackie in her usual booth corner by the front of the cafe.
As soon as I changed into my half-apron uniform and put my hair up, I made my way over to her. If there was ever a day when I needed her, it was that day. I needed her warm smile that could melt anything bad in its presence. I needed her voice, clear and smooth, calming my every nerve. I needed to see her eyes crinkle when she laughed, making me want to laugh along with her, no matter what it was about.
When she spotted me approaching, she smiled and then tilted her head. "Violet?" She said, her eyes searching mine. "What's wrong?"
I had to bite my lip to stop it from quivering, taking in a sharp breath to pull myself together.
"Is it my son troubling you again?" She asked, a sparkle of amusement in her eye.
I shook my head, chuckling a bit despite myself, dropping my gaze to the floor. "I wish it was just him."
Jackie looked at me, then at the rest of the cafe. "Tell you what," she said. "Why don't we wait until some of the others clear out, and then you can tell me all about it. Or, at least, as much as you want to." She gave me her signature warm smile, filling me up just a bit, giving me a torchlight, however small, that peeked through the dark tunnel I felt I was crawling through.
I nodded, grudgingly leaving her table to tend to the other customers. I go about the work automatically, not thinking as my hands found cups and plates and papers and pens, writing down orders and taking them back to the kitchen and preparing coffees and milkshakes and teas. The work doesn't keep my mind preoccupied enough, and I find myself drifting back to Ethan's words in the hallway, the wound still stinging as fresh as it had been this morning. You're a fake. What good is a musician who can only perform for herself?
By the time six o'clock rolled around, most of the other customers had already left, leaving only Jackie in one corner and Poppy the college student in the other, tapping away on her laptop and sipping her cafe latte. I ducked into Jackie's booth across from her, slumping down in the seat.
Jackie didn't say anything, just looked up at me, waiting. Somehow, she didn't seem like she necessarily expected me to say anything. I suddenly felt like I could just sit there for a moment without having to speak a single word, and that would have been all right with her. That's how it was with Jackie. I never felt obligated to talk. She just made you want to talk to her because of her cordial presence.
I rolled my thumbs over each other. "I don't even know where to start."
Jackie nodded in understanding. "I would say the beginning, but that might be a bit lengthy. I would suggest skipping the Big Bang."
I looked up at her, spotting the familiar crinkle of her eyes. Will really does get his humor from her. The thought made warmth flood through me.
