Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 43 of 65

The first day of senior year came fast. Violetta stood in front of her closet with four months on the clock until the showcase. The bodice of the new dress hung on the form behind her, half finished, the hand-drawn rose print laid clean across the sweetheart neckline. It was the best work she had ever done, and she knew it. She kissed Elowen on the forehead, handed her to Saddie, and drove to school for the first time since spring. Greg was waiting by her locker. He wore the navy hoodie she liked. He held two coffees and did not pretend to be casual about it. Around them the hall filled with the usual noise, lockers slamming, sophomores staring, seniors pretending not to. Violetta felt the eyes land on her the second she walked in. Pregnant girl. Jordie's girl. The one who disappeared. "You ready?" Greg asked. "For what?" "For them to talk." He handed her the coffee. "They're going to talk anyway. Might as well give them the real story." She set the coffee on the shelf inside her locker. She looked down the hall. Jordie stood at the water fountain with two guys from the team. He saw her. He saw Greg. He did not move. Lucy was three lockers down pretending to read a schedule. Violetta turned back to Greg and put her hand flat on his chest. "Okay," she said. He kissed her. Not fast, not for show, but long enough that the hallway noise dropped a full step. When he pulled back he kept one hand on her waist and the other on her locker door, easy, like he had done it a hundred times. Someone whistled. Someone laughed. A girl behind them said his name out loud. Violetta did not look away from Greg. She smiled at him first, then at the hall, and closed her locker with her hip. Jordie was gone by the time she turned around. Lucy was still there, staring, mouth a little open. Violetta walked past her without slowing. Greg fell in beside her and took her hand. They did not talk on the way to first period. She did not need to. By lunch the whole school would know. By the end of the day her mother would know, and Paul, and every aunt on the group text. That was the point. She got home at three. Lymber was on the couch with Elowen on her knee and her phone face down on the cushion. "So," Lymber said. "I heard." Violetta laughed once and took the baby. She went upstairs, changed into her work clothes, and stood in front of the dress form. Four months. Half a dress. One clear idea. She threaded the needle and started the next rose.