Whatever Happens Read online

  Inside the room there’s a couch and two chairs.

  I choose the couch.

  She takes a chair.

  I notice she doesn’t have a notebook or anything of the sort.

  It’s just me and her, having a conversation. Or about to, anyway.

  “I’m glad you’re here today, Violet.”

  I nod, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as I look around.

  There’s no desk. Or awards. Or plaques. It’s just a simple room with a window overlooking the shopping center across the street, framed photos of buildings downtown on the walls, and bookshelves with everything from children’s books to non-fiction.

  “How much do you know?” I ask her, probing to see what my mom might’ve told her when making my appointment.

  She crosses her legs. “Nothing. I like to keep it that way. I want you to trust me, and since you don’t know me it’s only fair I don’t know you either.”

  I give a small smile.

  “What’s your favorite color?” I ask her. I know it’s her job to get to know me, but I’m not ready just yet. I need to get comfortable.

  “Red.” I bet it’s the shade of the color lipstick she wears that she likes so much.

  I brush the backs of my fingers against my jeans like I’m flicking away crumbs, but really I’m just buying time.

  She’s a therapist, so I’m sure she knows that.

  “My sister killed herself.” The words are uttered quietly, like I don’t want to give them voice to this stranger. “T-That’s why I’m here.”

  She tilts her head, but her expression doesn’t change.

  I don’t know if putting it out there like that is what I’m supposed to do, but it seems like a waste of therapy not to get straight to the point.

  “She was younger than me.” I look out the window. “Too young to make that decision.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I snort. “A middle school kid taking their own life is too young. She had her whole life ahead of her. One where it could get better. But she chose to leave instead.”

  Dr. Lee is quiet for a moment. “Maybe she thought it would never get better. Maybe she didn’t see any other option.”

  I wince and face Dr. Lee head on. “She could’ve come to me. Talked to me. To our mom. Our dad. She didn’t.”

  “Maybe she did in her own way.”

  “Are you playing Devil’s advocate here?” I blurt.

  She leans forward a bit. “I’m trying to get you to see things differently. Not everything is black and white. There are shades of gray too. A lot of times the gray is where we find our answers.”

  I don’t say anything for a few minutes.

  “I’m angry at my sister.” The words are so quiet they’re barely audible, but she hears them anyway.

  “That’s normal.”

  “I hate being angry at her. I loved her more than anyone. But … but apparently she didn’t love me enough to stay.”

  Dr. Lee appraises me for a minute. “When people take their lives, it’s not because they don’t care about their loved ones, it’s because they don’t love themselves enough. They’re haunted by their own thoughts and death becomes the only peace they can seek, the only control they have.”

  “I don’t want to stay angry at her,” I admit.

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “How do I move past it?” My lower lip trembles.

  “I’m not here to give you answers. There are no true answers to these kinds of questions, but my advice is to give yourself a chance to feel the anger. If you’ve been blocking it, or feeling guilt for it, you’re not allowing yourself the proper chance to grieve. It’s okay to be angry, or sad, or happy, or whatever you need to feel in the moment. Whether it’s to do with your sister or not. We’re all entitled to our emotions.”

  I wipe at my tears. I don’t know when they started. That seems to be happening a lot lately.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to live the rest of my life without her.”

  That, right there, has been the thing plaguing me the most.

  There are so many things we’ll never get to share. Fourteen years is too little time with her. It scares me knowing that one day I’ll have to deal with the fact that she’s been dead longer than she was alive, and that is terrifying.

  “You know,” I begin, my breath stuttering, “maybe it would’ve been easier if she’d died in a car accident or something. She wouldn’t have chosen to leave then.”

  Dr. Lee frowns. “It still would hurt. You’d still be angry. The emotions would just be directed elsewhere. To the other driver if one was involved, the weather if that was the culprit, it’s always easiest to find a fall guy than to just deal with things as they are.”

  I nod, plucking a tissue from the side table. She’s right, I know it.

  I’ve been finding excuses for everything for far too long and burying the emotions I didn’t want to feel or deal with down deep.

  “You coming here is a big step in the right direction, Violet. It may not seem like it, but it is.”

  I nod, looking at the time.

  My hour is up already.

  “Come back,” she almost pleads with me. “You don’t have to shoulder every burden on your own.”

  I push up from the chair and look back at her. “Thank you.”

  As I walk out, I feel a little lighter, like I’m finally heading in the right direction. I have a long way to go, but suddenly life doesn’t feel so daunting.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The pile of letters from various colleges stare up at me.

  “Are you ever going to open them, Vi?” My dad’s voice sounds behind me and I jump back from the kitchen counter like I’ve been electrocuted.

  I’ve been letting the letters gather here for several weeks now and haven’t opened a single one, but today they taunt me, because my wild card school finally sent one.

  I lied when I told Lydia I was undecided on what I wanted to do with my life, but the fact remains this is a recent development and me entirely going out on a limb.

  The big black NYU letters shine back at me from the thick envelope.

  “I guess I should start.” My eyes flick from him to the stack.

  He peeks over my shoulder. “NYU, huh? Didn’t know you applied there.”

  “It was just for fun,” I murmur, lying easily.

  I might have gotten coerced into the theatre production of Beauty and the Beast, but I found a passion there I wasn’t expecting.

  I love transforming into a character, living their life, and giving them a voice, a vessel to exist.

  So, I applied to NYU for acting.

  I don’t think I’ll be accepted, and I know that’ll disappoint me even though it shouldn’t. Acting isn’t something I ever planned on, it just sort of happened, and I should strive for something practical. Useful. But I also want to be happy, and doesn’t that mean choosing something I love?

  I pick up one of the envelopes and open it.

  We regret to inform you…

  I open another.

  Acceptances and rejections pile up until there’s only one left, the only one that matters to me.

  I pick up the envelope from NYU, looking at my dad as my mom enters the room.

  It feels like my entire life hangs on the answer waiting for me on this simple slip of paper.

  “Oh, you’re opening them,” my mom says joyously, hurrying over to us. “Only one left? Why didn’t you tell me you were opening them?”

  “Sorry, I just decided to go for it.” I bite my lip and look between them. “Dad?” He peaks a brow at my tone. “I … I lied when I said I applied just for fun. I…” I swallow thickly. “I’ve really loved everything to do with being in the play, and I’ve found something I’m passionate about so … I decided to apply to NYU … for acting.”

  They both stare at me in surprise. “Vi, that’s awesome.” My mom claps her hands.

  “R-Really?” I stutter.
“I thought you might be mad.”

  My dad reaches out and pulls me into a hug. “We want you to be happy. That’s what we’ve always wanted.”

  I hug him back and dammit if I’m not going to cry. “I love you guys.”

  My mom joins the hug and the three of us stand there holding each other.

  After a moment we break apart and they look at me expectantly.

  “Open it,” my mom encourages, her smile wide.

  “Do it.” My dad nods at the unopened letter.

  I break it open and shake my head as I exhale a breath.

  I slip the papers out.

  A smile splits my face.

  “I’ve been accepted.”

  My dad picks me up and spins me around and I laugh hysterically, because the sign I didn’t know I was looking for is here.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The weeks pass in a blur and before I know it, it’s April Fool’s Day.

  Or better known around these parts as opening night.

  Mr. Rochester runs around backstage barking orders and sweating so much his shirt is soaked.

  I put on Belle’s opening outfit and Lydia bustles around me, smoothing it in places and making sure everything is perfect with it. My hair is braided and tied with a blue string. I don’t have much makeup on, just a little mascara and blush for my cheeks.

  I can hear the soft rumble of voices as people pile into the theater. My parents are out there somewhere. I’m sure Finn’s mom is there too, and I know from Lydia that Husten has come in. I’m not sure if Della came too.

  “Are you nervous?” Lydia asks me, clipping a loose thread.

  I nod, running my fingers down the fabric as I look in the mirror. “Yeah, I think I’d be crazy not to be. But I’m excited.”

  “You’re going to kill it,” she assures me, taking a few steps back and looking everything over.

  “Five minutes!” Mr. Rochester calls out from somewhere. His voice is so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole auditorium heard him.

  “How he hasn’t suffered a heart attack is beyond me,” Lydia murmurs with a soft laugh.

  “He looks close to a stroke,” I note as he runs by, dripping in sweat with a headset on and his trusty clipboard held tightly in his hand.

  “I’m stealing that clipboard from him. Mark my words,” Lydia warns. “When it vanishes, don’t tell on me.”

  I laugh. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “No, I just really hate that clipboard.”

  “Two minutes!”

  “I better get in place,” I tell her.

  She gives me a thumbs up. “You’ve got this, Violet.”

  I squeeze her hand in thanks and head towards the stage.

  “Nebula?”

  I turn around to find Finn is his Beast makeup and clothes.

  “Yeah?” I pause, tilting my head to the side.

  He clears his throat. “Break a leg.”

  I give him a small smile. “You too.”

  I’ve seen Dr. Lee a few more times, and my anger has lessened. I don’t find myself getting mad every time I look at Finn. I still don’t understand what happened to us, but I’m letting it go. Dr. Lee has taught me I can’t control everything.

  “Show time, everyone!”

  And with Mr. Rochester’s final yell, the curtains go up, and it begins.

  * * *

  “You were brilliant, sweetie.” My mom presses a kiss my cheek, pride radiating off of her.

  “Thank you.” I smile back at her, glowing from the inside out.

  “We’re so proud of you.” My dad pulls me into a hug, the flowers he brought for me getting squished between us. “Oh, uh, these are for you.” He pulls away and hands me the bouquet. It’s a mix of different flowers, and I take them from him, smelling one of the large lilies.

  I was worried something might go wrong, but the entire play went off without a hitch. This felt like a monumental moment in my life, the start of something big. I’m still surprised by my parents support of me going to NYU. They haven’t once told me I’m crazy, and I think after tonight they truly see why I want to do this.

  “Hey, Violet, you going to the cast party?” Joe, the guy who played Chip, pauses beside me.

  “No.” I wave him off. “I’m having dinner with my parents.”

  “Oh, okay. We’ll miss you.”

  He’s barely moved away when my mom gets my attention. “You should go to the party. You don’t need to hang out with us.”

  “I’m not in the partying mood.” It’s the truth too. “I’d much rather go to dinner with you guys and go home.”

  “Are you sure?” My dad asks.

  “Positive.”

  After I change my clothes I follow them out to the parking lot.

  I spot Finn and his siblings, Della did come, and mom. I lift my hand in a wave and he waves back. There’s a look on his face I can’t quite decipher. It’s perhaps a little sad and maybe longing.

  Husten waves at me so I wave back and Della looks over with a smile.

  Finn drops his head and I notice Husten say something to him.

  I don’t see anymore as I climb into the SUV and we drive away.

  My parents take me to a fancy restaurant downtown. I’ve never been before, but assume they have. I don’t bother telling them I would’ve been happy with something simple, because I know they want to make tonight special.

  We’re seated and I look over the menu.

  The cheapest thing on the menu is fifty dollars. They really are going all out. Damn.

  After our order is placed they start talking.

  “The play. NYU. Graduation soon,” my dad rambles. “So many big things are happening.”

  “Don’t forget prom,” my mom adds.

  I snort. Prom. I don’t plan on going. It’s in only a few weeks and I don’t see the point. Maybe at the beginning of the year I would’ve wanted to go, but the one person I’d want go with is a stranger now, and he wouldn’t attend anyway.

  “I’m not going.”

  She gasps, like a true shocked inhale of breath as if I’ve personally offended her with this announcement. “Violet, you have to go! It’s prom!”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” I take a sip of my fancy water—fancy, because it’s in a wine glass.

  “It’s your senior year,” she rambles, her words slurred with desperation. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  “Maybe I’ll regret it if I do,” I argue back in a calm tone, simply trying to get her to see another side.

  “Well,” she rests her hands on the table, “I think you should give it a little more thought before you decide completely. Maybe we should go look at dresses just in case, since it’s so soon. Maybe that girl … what’s her name? Lucy?”

  “Lydia,” my dad interjects.

  “Yes.” She snaps her fingers. “Lydia. Maybe she’d like to go?”

  She looks so eager, so excited, that I can’t say no. “Yeah, that would be okay.”

  When her smile lights her eyes I know I’ve made the right decision. Besides, looking at dresses doesn’t mean I’m going to the dance.

  Our food is brought out and I push all thoughts of the dance from my mind, instead focusing on this night with my parents. Soon, I won’t have times like these with them. I’ll be off at college, starting a whole new adventure.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Come on, girls. This way.” My mom plows through the shopping mall on a mission.

  Lydia and I struggle to keep up with her she moves so easily through the crowd.

  Somehow, after I told Lydia about dress shopping I was talked into going as her “date” since she can’t go with Husten and, in her words, I can’t go with who I want.

  “Your mom moves fast.” She sounds winded as we pick up our pace.

  “When she’s on a mission this is how it goes.” We reach the department store and lose sight of my mom. “Where’s the dress section?” I ask a passing employee
and she points me in the right direction.

  Lydia and I cross the store in the direction she indicated and find my mom already going through racks of dresses, several already slung over her arm.

  Before I can even look at anything I find myself being ushered into a dressing room and having dresses handed to me. The first one I try on is hot pink and fitted, not my kind of dress at all, but I put it on anyway.

  Stepping outside I make a face of disgust.

  “Nope, not that one,” my mom confirms, shoving me back into the dressing room.

  I hear her urging Lydia into another room beside me.

  I slip on a short white dress with a tulle skirt.

  “This doesn’t say prom to me,” I announce, stepping outside the curtain. “I look like I’m going to get ice cream in a really fancy dress for a fake photo shoot.”

  My mom laughs. “That was a very dramatic description, Vi. Try another.”

  I sigh, sulking into the room. Trying on clothes is the bane of my existence. I loathe it. I’d rather do Calculus or Physics and I hate both things with a passion.

  After trying on more dresses than I can count, I’m about to call it a bust when my mom announces, “I think this is the one.”

  Before I can protest she passes another one through the small slit in the curtain.

  I take it and everything stops.

  My thoughts.

  My breath.

  My heart.

  I stare at the dress with a mixture of awe and longing.

  It’s loose, but flowy, with sleeves. It’s a midnight blue color with sheer areas, but that’s not what takes my breath away.

  It’s the golden glittery stars and constellations sewn into the fabric that does that.

  The stars mean so much to me now. They remind me of Finn, of a friend and love, and how vastly big this world is and we’re so small.

  A part of me doesn’t want to put the dress on, but I can’t help myself.

  It fits like a glove, as if it was handmade for me.

  I smooth my hands down the fabric, taking in the stitched detailing.

  I don’t have to leave this room to know I’m going home with this dress.