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Beverly didn't know what to do. Violet had come over an hour later than expected, with tears in her eyes, and hugged her as though she never wanted to let go. Beverly pulled Violet's arms off her and looked her in the eyes.

"What happened? Did he hurt you again?" Violet shook her head, as Beverly led her inside. She couldn't so much as get a peep out, without choking on her sobs. She could still feel it, and she didn't want to. Patrick was one thing, but now that Henry had done it, too...

"It's okay. You're safe here," Beverly placed Violet's bag on her couch, as Violet curled herself up on the chair next to it. "I can get you something to eat. What're you hungry for?"

Violet didn't respond. She sat there, trembling and trying to forget everything that had happened to her in the last few hours. Beverly nodded and left to retrieve food, anyway. She wondered, as she got food, what else could've gotten Violet so worked up. If it wasn't her brother... She shuddered as she caught on.

"Bev?" she turned, seeing Violet standing in the doorway to the kitchen, "Do you mind if I make a call?" Beverly shook her head, and went back to work. Violet walked back to the living room couch and grabbed the phone. She'd gotten all three girls' numbers when she went to the movies with them. They weren't all that bad, underneath.

"Bowie residence, who is this?" Violet sighed, as she got through.

"Is Margaret there? I need to speak with her for a moment," She said, trying to make it sound like she hadn't just been through a traumatic experience. She waited as she heard the woman call for Margaret from somewhere else.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Margie," Violet answered, a tad brighter than before.

"Violet! Thanks for calling! I wanted to ask you something anyway," Margaret giggled from across the line.

"Well, someone asked a favor from me that involved you, and I told them I'd help them out," Margaret was quiet for a moment.

"Who?"

"Uh, Reginald Huggins," Violet heard a soft gasp, "He wanted me to help set you two up on a date tonight."

"Oh my, of course! Where and when, because you know how much time I need to get ready for something like this," Margaret sighed, as she spoke. She'd never actually tell Greta, but she did have a small crush on the Huggins boy.

"Uh, it's the arcade and at six," Violet looked at the clock in Beverly's house. It read 2:54pm. She smiled, knowing Margaret would have enough time. Margaret squealed in response.

"Oh my, thank you! I've got so much work to do now! I'll see you later!" Violet heard the phone get put up, before putting the phone down. Beverly had entered the living room with two plates of leftover meatloaf and corn.

"I hope you don't mind. We don't exactly have much else right now," Beverly turned on the television and started eating her food. Violet tried to eat, but not much would go down. She stomach still hurt.

"I didn't know you had made friends with Margaret Bowie," Beverly mentioned, "When did that happen?" Violet placed her fork back down and swallowed what little she had in her mouth.

"Um, actually it was Greta. She, Margaret, and Sally all made a truce. I guess I've become more normal for them to actually want to hang out with me for real now," Beverly listened, understanding a bit of it, "I actually found out, they aren't so bad underneath all their feminine bravada. Sally is the only one still unsure of why they want to be friends with me, and I'm okay with just being her acquaintance."

"So, what was the phone conversation about?" Violet smiled, at that question.

"Turns out, Reginald and Margaret both like each other. I kind of just got to be the one to bring them together," Beverly gazed at Violet in shock.

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