Shards of Venus

by Tjalara Draper

  “Yeah, I know.” Her tone was edged with a chronic frustration. She turned her attention to the buildings outside. “Wow. We’re here.”

  They hopped out of the car and gathered up Violet’s things from the back.

  A guy with greasy blue hair and a black metal-spiked vinyl jacket bumped into Nathan, causing him to drop the cardboard box he carried. The kid didn’t stop or even apologize. Nathan growled a string of choice words as he bent to gather the box’s scattered contents. He stopped mid-curse when Violet came to stand next to him.

  “Damn, kids these days,” he gruffed, rummaging through the hastily repacked items with one hand. “If he’s broken your camera, I swear I’ll—”

  “Don’t stress. I have it here.” Violet held up the camera, which was suspended from a strap around her neck.

  Nathan secured his grip on the box, still scowling. “If anything’s broken, you can blame the blue-haired punk over there.” He jutted his chin toward a cluster of college kids with freakish colored hair. Along with the shiny black vinyl, several wore studded dog collars, and he winced when he spotted one guy sporting black lipstick.

  Violet looked over, adjusting her hold on her pillow and suitcase. “I’d say they’re goths, not punks.”

  Nathan snorted. “What’s the difference?”

  Violet bit her lip. He knew it was her way of holding back a smirk. “Well, if you put on some spectacles, old man, you’ll notice the lack of safety pins and mohawks.”

  “Mohawks or not, they’re lucky I’m not going over there,” Nathan deadpanned.

  This time Violet did smirk. “Why? Afraid they’ll figure out you smell like mothballs?”

  “For the record, it’s not mothballs. It’s Old Spice.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Seriously? You’re wearing something that literally has the word old in its name.”

  Nathan smiled. She had such a great laugh—a recent development for the girl who continued to bloom and shed the husks of her old life. The image of her from the night he’d first found her would always be seared into his brain, but the girl standing before him was a complete contrast. Her gray-blue eyes—stark against the frame of her dark brown, shoulder-length hair—held more sparkle and amusement. When she smiled, her defined, angular cheekbones became plump and rounded—proof of how a healthy diet and exercise had filled out her previously gaunt frame.

  She’d had her nineteenth birthday a few weeks ago, and as per her request, it was a low-key barbecue with just Jude and the kids. As much as Nathan held concerns about her moving out into the world, he knew she was more than ready. He’d done the best he could to prepare her to look after herself. Her instincts were killer—as long as she didn’t panic first.

  He nudged her with his elbow. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, this stuff’s getting heavy.”

  They took several steps, then Nathan stopped short. “Almost forgot.” He balanced the box with one hand and fished a set of car keys out of his jacket pocket. “The last thing I want is some greaser stealing my new ride.” He pressed the lock button on the remote.

  Violet smirked again.

  “What?” He put on a defensive tone. “I’ve only had it a week.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Come on. Your jeep will be fine.”

  A wide stone staircase led from the parking lot to the college entrance, which consisted of two red brick pillars with white cornerstones, standing a couple stories high. At the top rested a decorative black arch bordered with gold. The college emblem, an open book backed by a shield, was situated at the top, and beneath it was Monarch Grove College spelled out in silver. The tall black gates hinged open, inviting newcomers into the college grounds.

  Violet paused at the entrance, her forehead creased. Her expression reminded Nathan of the first day she’d arrived at his place three years ago, not long after she was discharged from the hospital. Back then her skittishness was clear even during the tour of her new room.

  He leaned in and gave her a gentle nudge. “You know that blank canvas life you keep talking about? It’s through those gates.”

  She sighed. “I know.” She still didn’t move.

  “It’s not here on the steps, Vi.”

  He didn’t receive the sarcastic reply he expected. Instead, her eyes became more agonized. “I don’t know if I can do this, Nathan.”

  Nathan blinked a few times and scratched the top of his head. “Um . . . well . . .” It was times like these he wished he was more of a “pep talk” kind of guy. “Look, the way I see it, you can give up now and spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if,’ or you can walk through those gates with your head held high, knowing you damn well deserve to be here. You’ll make friends, you’ll go to parties, you’ll study hard, then you’ll leave with your hard-earned diploma. Either way, it’s up to you.”

  She nodded a few times, chewing on her lower lip. “But I’ve never done anything big like this before.”

  Nathan shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’ll never know whether you’re capable if you don’t try.”

  She snorted, and to his relief, the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile.

  “So, Violet. What’s it going to be?”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll give it a go.”

  “Great! I’d hate to think we drove two hours for nothing.”

  She laughed and gave him a playful punch before stepping through the gates.

  Sunlight glittered through the leafy canopy arching over the path, and the manicured greenery beneath thrived with hundreds of bold flowers. Benches were scattered around the gardens, most of them already occupied. The campus buildings, which generally followed the red brick and white cornerstone design, could be seen beyond the trees. Dormitories were easy to spot by the bay windows that waved in and out of the buildings’ facades, contrasting with the linear lecture halls and community establishments.

  Violet’s room was on the second floor of one of the dormitories. They navigated through the countless students, parents, and college welcomers, making sure not to trip on any of the boxes and bedding that hadn’t made it into rooms yet.

  Finally, they stood outside room number 2052 of the west wing. The door was ajar, and Violet hesitated.

  Nathan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Blank canvas, remember?”

  When she turned to him, he was relieved to see her expression wasn’t fearful. Instead, her eyes held a glint of excitement. With a smile and a nod, she shoved the door open.

  “Ouch!” yelped a male voice from inside.

  “What the—?” Violet stumbled back into Nathan, and the box he carried toppled and spilled for the second time that day.

  The door slowly swung back open, revealing a guy clutching his face. A few agonized groans escaped from between his fingers.

  “What happened?” asked a female voice from farther in the room.

  The guy just moaned.

  A petite girl with chestnut dreadlocks that hung down to about mid-waist came into view. She wore an oversized heavy-metal band shirt with blue denim shorts edged with white lace. Her skin was golden, either sun-kissed or spray-tanned; she looked as if she’d just stepped off a beach.

  “Show me.” She yanked the guy’s hands away from his face.

  “Ouch! Careful, Autumn.”

  “Quit being a baby and show me.” After a moment of inspection, she released him and whacked him on the shoulder. “There’s no blood. You’re fine.”

  His reply was a groan of derision. Then he pointed to Violet. “I think your roommate is here.”

  Dreadlocks fanned out as the girl spun around.

  Violet’s eyes bugged. Her hands covered her mouth and her cheeks turned red. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea that—oh my gosh. Are you okay?”

  The girl smiled. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.” She put her hands on her hips. Her slender nose crinkled as she looked Violet up and down with dark brown eyes. “So . . . you’re my new roomie.”

  Even though the
girl was a few inches shorter than Violet’s five feet and eight inches, she radiated an intensity that made Violet shrink back against Nathan.

  “Yep,” said the girl after a few heartbeats. “I think you’ll do.”

  The guy behind her groaned and rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind Autumn. You’ll eventually get used to her overbearing ways.” He stepped in front of her and held out a hand. “Hi, I’m August.”

  He was taller than Violet, but he still had a few inches to go before he would reach Nathan’s eye level. His dark brown hair was styled in a messy quiff. Faded, ripped jeans were matched with a low-cut white V-neck and about a half-dozen necklaces made from black thread, gemstone beads, copper, and silver.

  After a slight hesitation, Violet shook his hand, which sported a faded turquoise wrist cuff adorned with a few bracelets that matched the guy’s necklaces. “Hi, I’m Violet.”

  “Awesome.” He grinned.

  “I’m sorry again for hitting you with the door.”

  August waved his free hand; the other hand still held Violet’s. “Don’t mention it. No permanent damage done. It’ll take a lot more effort to ruin this pretty face.”

  The handshake continued for what Nathan figured to be the longest handshake in history. Finally, he cleared his throat, and the boy dropped both his grin and Violet’s hand.

  Violet inclined her head. “This is Nathan.”

  “Cool.” August nodded in a manner that reminded Nathan of a bobblehead doll. He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Nathan replied, making sure his tone held a note of warning. He restrained the temptation to crush the boy’s hand but still went for a firmer than normal grip. The boy hid his wince of pain pretty well, but his relief was obvious when Nathan released the handshake.

  “So,” Nathan said after a pause, “Autumn and August?”

  “Yeah, you can blame our hippie mothers,” said August. He put his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and donned a tight grin.

  Autumn gestured between herself and August. “We’re cousins, born a week apart. Our mothers are sisters and thought it would be so cute for their babies to have semi-matching names.”

  August forced a laugh and attempted an indifferent look. “It obviously didn’t occur to them exactly how cute it would still be once we reached adulthood. And in case you were wondering, I was born in May, not August.” He paused a moment. “And yes, to be honest, I am actually glad that my mother didn’t call me May. But if you ask me—”

  “You can just call him Gus,” Autumn cut in.

  “Right. Yes. Gus is fine.” His head bounced in a nod again, and he crossed his arms. “So, Violet, what do you think of your new room?”

  “She hasn’t seen it yet,” said Nathan.

  Autumn snorted a laugh, and Gus’s cheeks turned a little red.

  They all picked up Violet’s things from the spilled box, and the cousins ushered Violet into her new home. Two beds, two bedside tables, two desks, two desk chairs, and two wardrobes mirrored each other on either side of a bay window seat. To the right of the entryway, a door led into a small bathroom, and to the left was a kitchenette with a mini fridge and microwave.

  Autumn had obviously already claimed the right side. Clothes, shoes, power cables, power boards, and a number of other items were strewn all over that half of the furniture. Violet dropped her bedding on the free bed, and Nathan set his box on the desk.

  Autumn planted herself on the bay window seat, her legs folded beneath her, and patted the space next to her. “Come on over and make yourself at home, roomie.”

  Violet flicked her gaze to Nathan. He mouthed, Give it a go. She gave him a slight smile and crossed the space between the two beds to sit next to Autumn.

  “So, Violet, what brings you to Monarch Grove University?” Autumn asked.

  “Uh, nothing special.” Violet picked up a cushion and placed it on her lap. “I’m just doing photography.”

  Nathan folded his arms. He hated it when Violet downplayed her talents. Since the day she picked up his dusty old camera, he knew she had a keen eye for photography. He would never forget the smile on her face when he bought her a new camera, one with enough buttons and functions to rival a spaceship. His walls back home were lined with her framed handiwork.

  “What about you?” Violet asked.

  “I’m studying cybersecurity and program engineering,” said Autumn, lying back and snuggling deeper into the cushions. She selected a dreadlock and twirled it in her fingers. The sun streamed in through the window and enhanced the girl’s golden skin.

  “Oh.” Violet stroked one of the cushion’s tassels. “What’s that?”

  “It’s just a fancy way of saying ‘hacking.’” Gus had slumped into Autumn’s desk chair and was swiveling from side to side. “She just wants to learn what the regular people of internet land are doing these days to secure themselves against the likes of her.” He jabbed an accusatory finger at his cousin.

  She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Gus. You know full well you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my ‘hacking,’ so drop your high and mighty attitude and show a little gratitude.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I still maintain I worked hard for those pitiful grades. You just ruined my bad boy rep. Seriously, not everything needs to be manipulated to get your way.” He gestured to her laptop. “You treat that thing like it’s a genie that grants wishes.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just admit how glad you are to be rubbing shoulders with college girls right now instead of flipping burgers.”

  “Pfft. Don’t pat yourself on the back yet. I haven’t rubbed shoulders, or any other body parts for that matter, with any college girls.”

  Autumn sniggered.

  “Wait, hold up,” said Violet. “Are you serious? Did you really hack into your school’s network to change his grades?”

  “Hack is such a crude word,” said Autumn. “I like to think I was doing the world a favor. Not only was I helping a cousin out, but I also discovered our biology teacher was using his school computer to stash his disgusting collection of taboo porn. Let’s just say, after an anonymous tip to the cops from me, he’s no longer teaching biology.” Autumn shuddered in disgust. “Ugh!”

  “Damn, girl,” said Violet. “Where were you when I needed help with my grades?”

  Nathan cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look.

  “What? Totally joking,” she said, stifling a smirk. “And what about you, Gus? What are you studying?”

  “Nothing major. I’ve taken up a few random classes until I figure out what I want to do.”

  “Such a waste,” Autumn scoffed. “I keep telling you that if you just applied yourself, you could be a doctor like your mom. I’ve already fixed your high school grades, so no one will know you were trying to make out you were a slacker.”

  “Just leave it, Autumn.” The tone in his voice suggested this was an old argument.

  “Come on,” whined Autumn, “it’s not too late for me to change your status to ‘med student.’ Seriously, you’re wasting your time with Greek poetry and textile classes.”

  “You never know. The textile class might come in handy with helping Aunty Skye with her hemp-weaving business.”

  “Quit joking around,” growled Autumn. “I’m not going to let you give up on medicine. I just don’t know why you—”

  “You do know why,” Gus said through gritted teeth. “Now drop it.” His cold glare could have turned water into ice.

  Autumn’s mouth clamped shut, but her own glare matched Gus’s level of severity.

  Nathan and Violet exchanged an awkward glance.

  Gus groaned and rocked his head back to look at the ceiling. “Can we please discuss this later when we’re not trying to make a good impression on our new friend here?”

  “Fine,” Autumn relented. “But this isn’t finished.”

  Gus rolled his eyes. “Of course. Why would I ever think you’d let
this go?”

  Autumn hmphed and crossed her arms.

  Gus gave Violet and Nathan an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the drama.”

  “It’s fine,” said Violet.

  Nathan just gave a tight-lipped smile and waved his hand indifferently.

  “So . . .” Gus floundered through some small talk with Violet until the tension started to ease up. Autumn eventually dropped her attitude, and the three of them commenced a lengthy discussion about their anticipation for their college careers, the towns they moved from, and other trivial things like movies and fashion.

  Nathan watched as Violet smiled and responded to whatever Autumn and Gus were saying. He hadn’t seen her look this content and confident in a long while. In fact, come to think of it, the whole time he’d known Violet, he’d never seen her act like . . . well . . . like a teenage girl.

  “Oh my gosh!” Autumn exclaimed. “I can’t believe you don’t know who The Wanderers are.”

  “Uh, sorry.” Violet’s lips compressed into a half wince, half smile.

  Gus groaned. “Brace yourself. You’re about to be baptized into one of Autumn’s obsessions whether you like it or not.”

  “It’s not my fault you haven’t developed a taste for great music, cuz,” retorted Autumn.

  “It’s not your taste in music I’m opposing, cuz. It’s the time, place, and consistency. Violet, I suggest you invest in a decent pair of earmuffs if you want to get any sleep.”

  Autumn tossed a cushion, which smacked him square in the face.

  Gus yelped. “Autumn! Door! Hurt! Remember!” He wiped at his nose with his shirt collar. “Sheesh! What’s it take for a guy to get a bloody nose around here?”

  Autumn leaned back into her cushions, her hands behind her head and a victory smile on her face.

  Violet hid a laugh behind her hand.

  Nathan shook his head. He didn’t envy Violet putting up with these two. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket to read the message, then noticed the time.

  “Damn! Dinosaur alert!” Gus pointed at Nathan’s flip phone, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “I had no idea people still carried those antiques around.”