Violet couldn't sleep. She was leaning by the window frame, her legs dangling nonchalantly. Rolling the cigarette, she was thinking about the upcoming day. Come morning she would have to dress up, pack her stuff, and leave for school. Westfield High. The name reminded her of those fancy boarding schools in England, the ones her back-home friend used to tell her about. She wasn't looking forward to being a centre of attention. Fresh blood. Even better for local kids, she was different. Her slender, boyish figure, make-up-less face. Dirty blond hair, not once dyed, not even with those silly colorful dyes that would wash up eventually. And her clothes. Layered, way too warm for the weather. "Those bitches will have something to gossip about," she thought. Violet knew that she had to find a job as well. That wasn't too bad actually. She has never worked a day till they moved. Her family was well-off and her father always over-protective. But she knew that the opportunity had come. She would land some stable, little job, maybe at a local vinyl shop that she had spotted exploring the neighborhood. She would save up to buy cocaine from the local druggies. Even her school in Boston had cocaine-heads, without a doubt Westfield would have twice the number. She was always curious about addictive substances. Not like she wanted to smoke meth or something, but she had heard that cocaine makes you numb and that appeared attractive to little Violet.
"Will you stop," hushed male voice coming from the street interrupted her train of thought "I won't. Those fucking shrinks mess with my head." She tried to identify where was it coming from and finally her eyes focused on the house on the other side of the street. Open front door caught her attention. In was standing a woman, at least 50 years old, her face worried but persistent. She was looking at the man standing in front of her. All Violet could tell was that he was tall, at least 6ft, broad-shouldered with head full of blond curls.
"You will go to therapy whether you want it or not. I will not risk my reputation around here, Tate." Woman's voice had strong southern accent, but the way she spoke reminded Violet of old Hollywood actresses. She instantly thought of Vivien Leigh and her theatrical way of speaking. Tate, cause apparently that was the man's name, nodded his head. Violet was curious. Extremely curious. She inhaled the smoke, her eyes not leaving the arguing couple. Then the door closed with a loud slam. Tate was slowly making his way down the stairs of the house. That's when he looked up. She should feel embarrassed for getting caught but she wasn't. She stared at him intensively. His face was picture perfect, sharp jaw-line, full lips, beady eyes. Crown of blond locks covering his forehead. He smirked at her and proceeded to the black Mustang parked on the street.
"Violet, will you please hurry?" said Vivien standing by the entrance door. She was worried that they would be late on her daughter's very first day at the new school. Violet came running down the stairs.
"Sorry, have to look my best" she joked sarcastically. She was wearing baggy black dress, knitted sweater, thighs and leather boots.
"You will melt in those clothes," Vivien's patronizing tone made Violet cringe.
"That's kinda the point." They made their way into SUV parked on the street. Violet didn't sleep at all last night. After her "encounter" with mister-jackass-angel-face she settled on her bed listening to The Smiths and reading.
"You know, me and your father were thinking," Vivien started "that you will need a car. He doesn't trust public communication in this city. I know, that's so his style. Anyway, he decided that it would be for the best if you had your own vehicle. Of course it doesn't mean that Ben is letting you loose. He wants you to drive from and to school... eventually to do some grocery shopping." Violet stopped listening to her mother's rambling after the "you will need a car" part. She was excited. Not that it was showing on her face but the idea of having her first car made her squeak inside. Another step towards freedom. They arrived by the huge, walls-made-of-glass type of building in no time. "That's it for old-school style school," Violet thought. She made her goodbyes, waved at leaving Vivien and started walking towards the entrance. Checking her phone she realized that she still has 10 minutes left. Plenty of time for a cigarette. She didn't know school's policy concerning smoking but following her better judgment she decided to settle quite a distance from the building. Violet unpacked her tobacco and started rolling the cigarette.
"Hey you!" she heard a man's voice. "Shoot. Great. Fucking brilliant. One of those idiots is going to scald me for smoking," she thought. Approaching her was tall, muscled guy with olive skin and raven black hair. His brown eyes were flickering with amusement. She instantly knew that he was a teenage heart-throb, a boy that all of the junior girls were thinking about while applying make-up and picking their most revealing clothes.
"Don't worry. I am not going to instruct you that smoking is not allowed here. I wanted to ask if you could roll one for me as well." Not what she was expecting.
"Have this one. I will roll another," said Violet passing him the cigarette. He took it from her hands and started searching his pockets for a lighter.
"By the way, I am Trevor. You will for sure hear about me anyway but that would be rude not to introduce myself, right?" Violet chuckled at his cockiness.
"I am not really interested in hearing about high-school jocks, but sure. Name's Violet." Trevor laughed exhaling the smoke.
"So, new girl, huh? Where do you come from? Surely not from here. No girl in her sane mind would wear thighs in this heat." His remarks amused Violet. She liked people crossing the boundaries.
"Boston. Good 'ol Boston is where I come from. Thanks for noticing though, I will take it as a compliment." Trevor smirked. For a minute they were sitting in silence, inhaling the smoke. She was examining the surrounding area and he was examining her.
"Okay, Violet," he said extinguishing his cigarette "I will be seeing you...and thanks for the cig." Then he started to walk towards the group of boys similar to him. Tall, muscled, tanned. He for sure was a star of school's football representation or something. Maybe a basketball player considering his height. Not that it mattered to her, she wasn't interested in dating anyone. Well, maybe if it was somehow beneficial to her. Violet made her way into the school building and managed to find her class just as the bell rang.
Ben was waiting for her at 3 P.M. sharp. Luckily for her, he wasn't making a show out of it. His car was parked down the street and not on the school parking. "Thank fucking God," thought Violet as she was approaching his car.
"My little girl!" he exclaimed with exaggerated excitement. "How was your first day at school? How were the classes? Made any friends? More importantly…met any boys? Do I need to buy a gun?" Not 2 minutes in small space with him and she was already annoyed. Ben was terrible at making jokes. Even worse so, he believed himself to be the funniest guy to ever walk the earth.
"No, dad. Didn't make any friends. Didn't meet any boys. School's alright." She wanted the conversation to be over and she didn't even have to lie. By the end of the day she forgot about ever meeting Trevor. She spent her day lonely, sneaking out for a cigarette or sitting in the library, browsing through books that she had no interest in.
"Your mother told me that you already know about the car." Ben was looking at her. "I picked a nice truck for you," he continued "I am supposed to meet with the guy tomorrow. If all is good you will have it by the end of the week." She didn't respond.
He dropped her off by the house saying that there is some grocery shopping to be done. Violet planned on sneaking quietly to her room but she stopped as she heard voices coming from the kitchen. She put her bag down and leaned by the wall to hear her mother talking with someone.
"No, it is not a good idea at all. I understand that the younger generation wants to make everything modern-looking but this house is a historical site!" Violet recognized the thick accent instantly. The neighbor who had a chitty-chat with mysterious Tate yesterday's night.
"Vivien, I used to live here too and God did I detest those wallpaper but looking back, it made me everything look so rich! Too bad my poor excuse of a husband did not appreciate the beauty of this mansion. I had to sell it and move elsewhere."
"You sold it on your own," she heard her mother saying "I thought you just said you were living here with your husband?"
"He died, terrible tragedy. Good thing none of the blood splashed on the antique wooden furniture. Anyway, God bless his soul." That woman was a freaking sociopath in Violet's book. "Luckily, before that we were able to procreate. The first one did not work out quite as we expected, cruel joke of fortune. Do not get me wrong, I love her to the bone, it is just that I felt punished by Lord himself. The next one happened to be perfectly healthy though. Tall and strong. Handsome. Smart. He is my joy and pride." Vivien was quiet for a moment. Apparently the realization that her neighbor was a sociopath, or narcissist at best, had to sink in. Violet was still standing by the door frame, listening to the women sipping from their cups. At last, the neighbor broke the silence.
"I digress," she stated slowly "When will your husband, Ben is it, be back home? I need to talk to him about the matter I am most concerned with."
"He was supposed to pick Violet from school and do some shopping. I think I mentioned that he would be back by four."
"Well Violet is here now, is she not?" Violet froze at the words. How in the hell did this woman know that? Her face flushed aggressively. Vivien stepped outside the kitchen just in time to catch Violet making her way upstairs.
"Violet? When did you get back? Why didn't you say hello?" The questions were making Violet angry. "Come and meet our neighbor, Mrs. Langdon". Vivien didn't seem too pleased with her presence in their house.
Violet followed her mother to the kitchen. At the stool was sitting a woman that she had seen last night, only that now she could take a better look at her. Her posture proud, legs crossed at ankles. She was wearing a blue, knee-length dress with a floral print. Her blond hairdo held together by ridiculous amount of hair-spray. Pretty old-school if you were to ask Violet. Her neck was graced with white pearls. Similarly, her wrists and fingers were covered in gold jewellery. Her face, although no longer young, was still showing signs of once great beauty. She looked as if set in stone, not showing any emotions. Her brown eyes cold.
"Mrs. Langdon, nice to meet you." Woman's face changed rapidly, now she was giving her a warm-smile.
"Sweetheart, I am so glad that I finally get to meet you. Your mother told me a lot about you." Violet doubted that. Her mother seemed frigid, smile not meeting her eyes.
"I bet she did." The silence that followed was uncomfortable. That's when Ben opened the front door and walked straight into the kitchen, smile plastered on his face. He stopped in his tracks as he noticed three women staring at him.
"Excuse me, didn't know that I was invited for the afternoon tea." His joke went unnoticed.
"Ben, this is Constance Langdon, our neighbor," said Vivien "She needs to talk to you about something. Professionally."
Ben's face changed. Goofy smile left his face as soon as he sensed money from possible appointments.
"Oh, of course. Mrs. Langdon, will you please follow me to my office?" Constance stood up, straightened her dress, thanked Vivian for the coffee and oh-so-lovely chat. Then she followed Ben out the door. Violet looked at her mother picking the cups and saucers from the kitchen table. She seemed relived that Constance is gone.
"That woman is crazy," she spoke pointing at Ben's office. Violet smiled. Yes, Constance was weird, but from what she has already seen that ran in the Langdon family. She made her way upstairs and tossed the heavy boots and sweater into the room's corner. Try as she might, Violet couldn't deny that "creepy" and "weird" was attractive to her. She lit a cigarette and laid down on her bed, thinking what next move should she make on her way to freedom.