Behind the Clouds ✔️

019

For the first two weeks of separation from her friends, Violet was stuck in her room or working. Mrs. Sherlock had caught a bug and shut down the library, not trusting anyone, and Mr. Brown only let her work from 2-8pm because of the girl's sudden solitude to herself. Violet became mute for that time period. She didn't even speak when Richie came over, to invite her to the arcade with him. She reluctantly went anyway. She didn't want to be cooped up in the same place as Patrick and Henry forever.

"Violet? Hello, Violet? You lost, it's my turn," Richie's hand in front of her face, snapped her out of it. She had, indeed, lost. "You know, you really suck at Street Fighter. Maybe you should try a different game." Violet nodded, as Richie took over. Violet took a look around the arcade. It was right next to the theater. She hadn't been to the theater in a while. The photo booth near them, was in use by Greta Keene and her two closest 'friends', Margaret Bowie and Sally Mueller. All three of them stepped out, noticing the Hockstetter girl watching their exchange.

"Hey, Vi!" Greta called out, a smirk on her face, "I didn't peg you for an arcade girl. Unless you're actually trying to get out more now." Margaret and Sally giggled at Greta's comment.

"Hi," Violet stated, louder than she thought. Greta and her girls raised their eyebrows, impressed with her.

"What? Now you talk? When you have no friends anymore?" Sally asked, fake crying. Greta let out a single laugh, before gazing at Violet, curiously.

"The Losers weren't all that great, were they?" Violet gulped, not knowing what to say.

"They have their flaws, just like everyone else," Violet answered, not agreeing nor disagreeing with Greta. Greta gave Violet a painstakingly real smile.

"Tell you what," Greta started, as Richie won his game. He turned to notice Violet not next to him anymore, but standing with the Queens of Mean. "You join us for a movie here at the theater tomorrow and we'll call it square. Deal?" Greta held out a hand to Violet, who actually thought about it.

Greta Keene actually wanted to be friends with her for real now? Not just for show? Violet was usually very good at reading people, with how quiet she was. Reading Greta right now and realizing that she truly meant every word, reassured Violet. To Richie's astonishment, Violet placed her hand in Greta's, as Greta informed her to meet them at the theater tomorrow at 11.

"What the hell was that?" Richie asked, once Greta and her girls had left the arcade. Violet shrugged her shoulders and grabbed one of the coins on Street Fighter to play again. She lost again, but not as bad as the first time. She and Richie went back and forth, playing Street Fighter to the point where Violet almost beat his high score.

When they left, Richie lead her to the Blue Collar Diner down the street. She smiled, as Richie held her hand. She felt safe with him. Even though she felt much safer with all of them, Richie seemed to be enough on his own. They took two seats outside, Richie ordering himself a chocolate shake with whipped cream and cherries and Violet ordering a banana split boat without the caramel.

"You don't look like a person who would eat that much ice cream," Richie stated, his face already covered in chocolate. Violet giggled at him, taking small bites of her ice cream.

"You obviously haven't run into me at Mr. Brown's ice cream parlor. It was so embarrassing when Eddie, of all people, ended up seeing me covered in ice cream."

"Now that, I'd love to see," Richie ended that conversation. The two of them sat there, eating their ice cream in peace. "Are you going to tell me what happened back there with the Queens of Mean?"

Violet shrugged her shoulders again, not really knowing how to explain it.

"It just happened, I guess. Greta really and truly wanted to become friends with me. That truce basically made everything that had happened in the past, over and done with," Violet told him carefully, "And besides, it'd be kind of nice to meet new people."

"How is it you changed so fast?" Richie asked her, forgetting about his shake at this point, "You were so quiet about a mere month ago." At this, Violet hesitated. She didn't want to tell him, but something in her gut, told her she could trust the Trashmouth.

"With losing Betty, and Ashton, and now Edward, I've been feeling so alone. I think it's because you guys saved Ben, that we even met properly in the first place," Violet smiled at him.

"Actually we saved your life," Richie exclaimed, shocking her, "You were the one bleeding out from Bowers carving his name on you."

"Don't have to remind me," She mentioned, "I'll always have the reminder on my stomach, so I'd prefer you not mention it aloud." Richie winced, when he realized it.

"Sorry about that," they both took a few moments just for their ice cream, "Hey, Stanley invited me to his Bar Mitzvah. Wanna join me?" Violet giggled, seeing the whipped cream on Richie's nose.

"Of course, I'll come. Stan needs all the support he can get, the way his father acts toward him," She leaned across the table and wiped it off with her finger, still giggling. Richie turned red, when he realized what a mess he was.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this. I'll make sure to clean up better for our date to Stanley's, huh?" Violet burst out laughing by that point, making Richie feel good about himself and reassured that she didn't say no to it being a date.

When the day of Stanley's Bar Mitzvah arrived, Violet stood in the bathroom, working on her hair ribbon. She had a yellow dress with white daisies on, and had decided to match things up with a yellow hair ribbon and yellow flats. A knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

"C-come in," She responded, turning back to the mirror. Soon, Reginald entered her line of vision and she smiled at him, shyly. "I'm sorry, just finishing up."

"Where are you going, looking so pretty?" He asked her, as she passed him.

"A friend of mine is having his Bar Mitzvah today and afterwards I'm going to sleepover with Beverly Marsh," She answered, not as fearful as she hoped. She was almost to the stairs when Reginald's hand touched her shoulder. She jumped.

"Sorry about that, I had a favor to ask you," Violet nodded, hoping it had nothing to do with Patrick or Henry, "It's about Margaret."

"Bowie?" She asked him. He nodded, with a weird look in his eyes, "You like her, don't you?"

"H-how could you tell?" He asked, hoping she hadn't told her already.

"Two of my friends like the same girl, and I constantly see the way they both look at her in you right now. What can I do to help?" Reginald was shocked to hear she wanted to help him, after all he and Vic and done with Henry and Patrick to hurt her and her friends. It began to make him feel queasy inside, a sort of guilt building up inside him.

"Do, do you think you could ask her to meet me at the arcade tonight? Around six?" Violet smiled, a pure smile, his way before taking off for the church. Reginald watched her leave the house, before throwing his fists in the air.

"Yes," He ran out to his car and drove back home to prepare, not even caring about Bowers and the gang. This was a momentous occasion and he wasn't going to miss it.