In Need of a Friend
Tell me what you think! I think I may run with this concept of confused Violet in other stories. This is more of a really long one-shot since I do not see a lot of friendship stories between Violet and Isadora :) Please review and tell me if you have any ideas.
"No! What are you doing?" Came a whisper in the darkest part of the day: nighttime.
If ever a whisper is heard in the middle of the night in your home, dear readers, I suggest you grab a bat, preferably one that is used in the sport called baseball and run for the hills. The expression does not mean to literally run into grassy mountains with a baseball bat, it simply means to run away fast to a safe place. For some reason, whispers are a part of your daily nighttime regimen, please ignore my advice. Though in this particular situation, Isadora Quagmire is not used to being woken up to a hand on her shoulder at such a late time of the day.
"IS! It is I, Violet Baudelaire," Violet Baudelaire, a good friend to the young poet named Isadora, said in a rushed whisper.
Isadora reached for the light switch above her bed. She breathed a sigh of relief when she did indeed see her good friend with her mandatory stripped pajamas on. "What in the world are you doing up so late?" she sat up, taking her Violet's hand and guided her to sit next to Isadora. "Did you have a fright?"
Frights, Isadora's way of saying nightmares, are not uncommon at Duchess Winnipeg's Academy of North Hills, especially since it is an academy for young people. Especially young people whose family may either be missing or worse. I am sure I do not have to tell you what's worse. As Violet's good friend, Isadora knew most secrets that she does not share with most, so a nightmare would fit the situation.
"No," Violet, who at the age of 16, was a brilliant inventor and elder sister of the Baudelaire Orphans.
After spending a year on a tiny Island, Violet took her siblings Klaus, who just turned 14 and sister Sunny, almost 2 on a homemade ship to find safe land. Along with the orphans, baby Beatrice Snicket came as well. Beatrice was the daughter of Kit, who passed away on the island. A strong storm hit the young travelers and they ended up on the far Northern side of Briny Beach, the unfortunate place where the Baudelaire's were told the death of their parents. After wondering for quite some time, the orphans found a fire department with the symbol of the eye that represented the organization that their parents were part of. To make a long story short, an expression that means "I am too lazy to finish such a long and complicated story at this time," the Baudelaire's were sent to the academy where they reside now, in hopes of discovering the mystery behind their family and the secrets their parents kept. Luckily, they have found old friends, such as Isadora Quagmire and her brothers. Unfortunately, luck was never in the Baudelaire's favor; but we mustn't rush the story.
"Then what is the matter," Isadora knew that something was on Violet's mind, judging by her hair tied up with her trusty hair ribbon. Hair is troublesome in times of deep thought and Violet did not want to be bothered by something as silly as her hair.
"I have a problem, yet I do not know how to fix it," Violet said, biting the inside of her cheek. Biting was usually reserved for her little sister Sunny, but since she has developed skills as a chief, has given up on her old past time. In Violet's case, she was thinking.
"Tell me."
Violet looked at her friend, unsure. "It is kind of embarrassing."
Isadora laughed, grabbing her friends arm. Violet, at times, can be so serious, that Isadora knew the problem was something very simple. "Do not tell me it has to do with the skirt length policy. Madame R said you can wear trousers when welding."
Violet smiled. "It is not that Isadora."
"Then what is it?"
Violet looked at her hands, not sure how to put it. "I do not know how to exactly put it."
"Well, you are a smart girl, what is the subject?" Isadora took a pen and paper out of her nightstand, waiting to hear for her friend to answer.
"Uh… Me?" Violet looked to her friend for help.
"Sweetheart, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what's on your mind," Isadora patted Violet's hand.
"I have feelings for someone."
Isadora covered her mouth with both of her hands, making a sound similar to a kitten. She grabbed Violet's wrists, her eyes shining with excitement. "A boy?"
"Well of course."
"Does he attend school here?"
"Yes."
"Do you have a class with him?"
"No.."
"Do I?"
"Ye-"
"Does Klaus? Duncan? Qui-"
Isadora stopped mid-sentence, looking at her friend with glee. "It is him, is it not?"
Violet looked at Isadora in mild shock, wondering how she guessed so fast. "How did…"
"Please, he does not hush up about you! I should have guessed you two fancied each other a while ago." Isadora smiled, holding her friends hands. "Why are you worried about Quigley's feeling for you? He does adore you quite much."
Violet looked down. "The problem is not his feelings for me. It's me and my feelings for him."
Isadora cocked her head. "You do like him, no?"
"I do,"
"Then what is the issue? I am lost."
Violet bit her lip. "I do not know how to act around a boy like that."
"Like what?"
"Like… Like in a more than friend way."
Isadora smiled at her friend. For a girl as smart as Violet, Isadora did not understand how someone can overthink something as simple as emotions. "Violet, someone is in conflict with something that has never been exploited before."
"What?"
"You are in love and you do not know how to handle it."
Violet blushed. "I am not! I just care for him in a way I cannot explain."
"It's called love, Violet. And it is perfectly fine to feel that way." Isadora looked at her frustrated friend. "I have an Idea."
"What is it?"
"Do what scientist do: Experiment. Think of the problem, create a thesis, experiment, and you have a solution."
"Is, that is not what scientist do-"
"Well in this case, they do. Now work with me, dearie. What is the problem?"
"Your imbecilic brother."
"Good, we are moving in the right direction. Now what is your thesis?"
Violet thought about it. She knew the way Isadora's brother, Quigley Quagmire, made her feel different emotions that she has never felt before. Violet's problem was the fact she did not know how to properly return those feelings. "Uh… Discovering my feelings toward said imbecilic brother of yours?"
"Good, now are you going to support this claim?"
"By experimenting with him," Violet said that too fast that by the time it came out, Violet was red in the face, an expression that means "Violet was really embarrassed by her words that she chose to say."
Isadora, on the other hand, was laughing uncontrollably. She held on to her side, tears running down her cheeks. She fell off her bed, still continuing her laughing fit while Violet leaned down trying to grab her hand. "I-you-Good, that is the spirit! You will have him in no time!" Isadora fell down again, holding on to her friend, who by now was so red, the heat radiating could match the surface of the sun. Finally, Isadora was able to control herself, sitting on the bed, fixing her ruffled hair. "Sorry, had a bit of a moment."
"It is fine. As I meant to say, discover my emotions toward him when I am around him." Violet sighed, knowing that was easily said than done.
"Yes," Isadora patted her friend's hand. "Do not fret dear, you will in time find out all those emotions that you cannot explain. For now, these problems should not be dealt with at 3:04 in the morning. Go to sleep and I will see you in a few hours."
Violet smiled, grateful for her friend. She hugged her poet friend and got up. "I will, I will see you at breakfast."
She waved goodnight and closed her friend's room with the spare key Isadora gave her, tying it around her hair ribbon. She tiptoed down the weary hallways, afraid to be caught so late after curfew. Arriving at her room, she laid down on her bed, trying to stop her mind from overthinking. Violet Baudelaire was never one to let something as petty as boy troubles get in her way. Not in the least bit. What she needed to focus on was a new problem all together: "In what way can I stop Bea from teething through the dining room chairs?"