Free Margarette (Violet) by Johi Jenkins, K LeMaire Page B

different time and she
blinks them away. “I was sad.”
    He continues like he didn’t hear her. “I liked
watching. You were so delicate with each step. It was like watching a ghost in
slow motion.”
    “Well, thanks,” she says, only a little miffed at
the comparison.
    Tommy looks like he isn’t sure if that was sarcastic
or not. He just asks, “Have you seen yourself? You are so beautiful. That’s why
she’s so jealous. She wouldn’t care if you weren’t. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t
you.”
    “You’re horrible.”
    “Me?” He raises his eyebrow. “You know she gave me
her ring finger size?”
    “Seriously?”
    “In the first three months….”
    Margarette snickers knowing it would kill Sharon
to know that they were talking about her.
    “She said she wanted to help me keep it a surprise
later on,” Tommy continues. “Now it’s been almost two years and it’s not going
to happen. No bent knee, even with the hints.”
    “Do you love her?”
    He takes a deep breath. “Not like I should. No, I
think I knew I would screw things up with her, but I wouldn’t have done
anything with anyone else. You, Margarette.” His voice drops at the end and it
sounds like Violet .
    “Who says you’re going to do anything with me?”
    “I meant when I took you home.”
    “I know what you meant.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Tommy, well… you know how everyone thinks we had
sex,” she says in a higher tone, with the sharp hint of intent.
    “Yeah.”
    “And well, I’m just not sure we can convince
anyone that didn’t happen.” Her voice has turned sultry and she doesn’t know
how to turn it back off.
    Tommy doesn’t seem to notice. “We have to
be able to.”
    “Well… I mean, what if we can’t? What if you and I
spent the next few weeks trying to convince them and it doesn’t work?”
    Tommy’s hands slide to her and wrap around her
waist. His chin touches the top of her head as he towers above her. She feels
his breathing sync with hers, and she feels something stir in her belly. But then
the harmony stops as he inhales to answer her question.
    “I don’t know what to do then,” he says.
    Margarette takes a second before she continues. “I’m
not saying that we have to do anything, but she’s already gotten revenge. Would
you take her back now?”
    “No. You’re right. I can’t kiss her after seeing
that. I’ll never get that out of my head.”
    “Well, there’s that, and she’s never going to
believe you. She’ll always think about me riding you, or whatever bullshit she
imagines, when you have sex with her.”
    “I’ll never have sex with her again. That dude is
gritty.” He moves nearer to Margarette.
    “It doesn’t seem fair that she’s blaming you for
something you really didn’t do.”
    “I know.”
    “What I’m trying to say is you’re already getting
punished for something you didn’t do…” she trails off and bites her lower lip.
    She knows there is something wrong with what she’s
saying, and that there could be consequences. It doesn’t really matter at that
moment. She’s never been what she’s wanted to be. Everything she wears is old
and out of fashion. She feels cheap then; worse even considering the outfit she’s
in.
    And she feels nothing could replace that pain
better than the excitement she feels trembling on the cusp of revenge.
    “… So it’s like you can have sex with someone and
it doesn’t count,” she concludes in a whisper. Her words slip softly past his
ears. She waits for a while for him to answer, and thinks he might not have
heard her, or understood what she meant.
    But she feels his hand press against her and she
has her answer. She wants him, but only to satisfy her need to be contrary, to
be known and to feel powerful. She feels like she is using him, even.
    Margarette moves back to the shadows by one of the
bleachers supports, pulling Tommy with her. She lifts herself and sits back on
one of the fuel tanks with the skirt tucked underneath