Abby and Violet (Yuri Light Novel)

Nowthat we were having fun was when I had to go home. It was so frustrating to have dad call when Violet and I were finally having a relaxed interaction, but now mum was also calling. It wasn’t even a quarter past eleven.

As was her typical fashion, she didn’t say hi nor did she ask me how I was doing, or even if it was a good time for us to talk, and went straight to business, asking where I was and if I hadn’t forgotten about the lunch.

“Hi mum. No, I haven’t,” I said, annoyance thick in my voice. “You and dad keep nagging me about it, so it would be hard to.”

“Good,” she retorted as if I didn’t make any remark. “Are you on your way back?”

“Yes, mum! But why do I have to go? Today is my day off, and that lunch is only at a half past one.”

My mum didn’t appreciate me acting up one bit and I was thankful we were talking through the phone and not face to face.

“Now listen here missy, your father might put up with your attitude, but I sure am not! I told you to come early because I want to make sure you look presentable. And I want you at the lunch table so that you start to get a feeling of what you will be doing career-wise. You are in high school now! It’s more than time for you to start thinking about it and act like an adult!”

Had she ever considered I might not want to follow her footsteps?

No, of course not.

Since she was a kid, her father educated her to manage his company, so she is just doing to me, and my big sis for that matter, what they did to her. It was the only way of parenting she knew. At least, that was what dad told me. I understood that, but I still hated it though. I didn’t want her to be all kisses and cuddles with me, just some kindness every now and then would suffice.

The company of web design she ran wasn’t a big one, but she was clawing her way up. That was admirable, I had no doubts about it, I just couldn’t see myself working in that type of environment. It felt so… claustrophobic to my mind. There was also the fact mum was always working. She never had time to enjoy life. Well, not in a way I felt was to my liking.

My father, fortunately, was a bit more lenient. He also didn’t work as much—even though he worked as my mum’s business partner—which meant he spent more time with me; or rather, he spent time with me, period. I honestly believed he would be a lot more carefree about me, was it not for mum.

“Sorry mum… I’ll be home in ten minutes.”

“Humph. Good girl.”

Every time mum called me that, I resented her. Being a good girl to mum meant being a puppet for her to manipulate to her whims. Maybe it was because it was supposed to be my day off and I had to cut my time short with Violet, but I was feeling so sick and tired of that. No wonder I acted up. However, that had to stop. If I kept doing it… there would be very unpleasant consequences.

My level of frustration went soaring through the sky as we parked in front of the house we were invited to. I thought I had resigned to my fate, but I hadn’t after all.

I had been there a few times during summer and came to loath this one the most. We were greeted at the door by their business partner’s son, Marcus Dwayne.

Marcus was… how should I put it? Oh, to hell with being nice. He made me sick. He wasn’t ugly or anything, by the contrary. He would be what someone would call ‘hot’. He knew it and was also smart and had rich parents. So, what was the problem? He had these weasel eyes and smile and was very handsy with me. Not a groper, mind you. Had it been the case, I’d have punched him regardless of what mum said. Or did. Anyway, he didn’t hide his intentions regarding me, and they weren’t the romantic type, that’s to be sure. I’d just be another notch on his list. And he had quite the reputation for precisely that in school.

“Welcome! Welcome! Oh, Abby! So nice of you to join us. You look lovely in that dress,” he said with his usual smile.

“Thanks, Marcus,” left my mouth with a tinge of bitterness mixed in it.

“She does, doesn’t she?” my mum giggled as she painfully dug her thumbnail in my nape, just under my hairline. That was her way of telling me to behave as she wanted.

The lunch, which for some reason took more than three hours to wrap up, were so mind numbingly boring, I could barely remember a thing that happened. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t three hours, but it sure felt like it. Worst part was, I had to act interested and occasionally say something or my mum would present her high heel to my shin. Couldn’t she at least do it in a way it wouldn’t leave bruises? I had my legs showing from the knee down and I was still wearing shorts at school for PE, not to mention the uniform skirt. I didn’t want to be showing the purple marks.

 There was also Marcus trying, once again, to put his moves on me, but I was so bored I actually forgot he was there a couple of times. That could be considered mean of me, but since it was him, I couldn’t care less.

“I brought your coffees,” said Marcus as he waltzed in the living room.

“Thank you, Marcus. Just leave them on the table.”

“Your son is such a gentleman. I hope my daughters get someone like him,” my mum jested.

“Gee mum! Can’t you be a bit more obvious?” is what I wanted to shout. “Why, just hand them over the wedding papers with your permission already signed, won’t you?”

I felt a hand touching my back. This time, it was dad’s.

The look on his face was as if he was saying sorry. I gave him a little bump with my shoulder as a thanks and went back to looking down.

“Abby? Be a dear and help Marcus carry the cups and tableware back to the kitchen.”

I looked at her, silently begging for not being left alone with him in the farthest corner of the house from where we were sitting, but mum didn’t care about my comfort, only that I played her stupid seduction game.

He talked with me on our way there, but I didn’t pay attention to his words, only his body language. I felt a bit scared. I didn’t think he’d force himself on me, but if I refused and mum found out…

“You know, that dress really looks good on you.”

I felt a chill when he said that, the discomfort being aggravated by him touching where my back was bare.

“T-thanks…”

He laughed, taking my scared reaction as shyness and pressed on, getting behind me and rubbing my shoulders.

Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!

“Then again, a girl like you would look good in anything.”

He hugged me from behind, and that was the last straw.

“C’mon,” I told him, trying to act natural. “Our parents will get suspicious if we take too long.”

“What of it? I don’t think they’d mind if we got involved.”

I turned and pushed him away.

“I’m feeling sick today, so we can’t!”

He looked disappointed, but finally I had managed to dissuade him from going any further.

“That time of the month?” he asked, maybe thinking he was being considerate.

I was genuinely feeling sick, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Just as I was leaving the kitchen I noticed a shape by the door. It was mum. I almost fell to my knees to try and beg for her forgiveness, but there were other pressing matters. I almost tore my dress to bend over the toilet to sick my lunch and cried a fair bit, my makeup becoming a complete mess that I had to wash away almost completely. Having to endure looking at myself in the mirror was just as hard as enduring his advances. I felt cheap, worthless. A commodity to be used as needed and nothing else.

And it only took me a glance of my mum when I walked back into the living room to know I was done for.

The drive back home was nothing short of a living hell, and it only got worse when we came inside.

She grabbed me by the elbows, shaking me violently while calling me vile names and asking what was wrong with me and why was it that I could never do anything right. Dad tried to intervened, but she shushed him.

I begged mum to forgive me, I explained I was feeling sick, but mum didn’t believe me, saying I was merely pretending to try and get away from my obligations.

“And you, dear,” she said to dad, not changing her tone. “Are you coming with me to the office? We still have that contract to plan.”

He looked at me and back at mum before saying he’d meet her at the car in a minute.

She gave us one of her looks of suspicion. With a shrug, she turned around and left us alone. She was done with wasting her time on us.

He told me he was very sorry for today. That he tried to convince her to leave me be since it was my day off. I muttered a weak “it’s ok dad” in response.

I could say I got off easy, but I still just wanted to put the day behind. As soon as he was done saying his piece, I would just go to my room, take off the stupid dress and cry in bed.

That was, until I remembered Violet. I needed to see her. That was what I felt, and what guided my words.

“Can I stay over at my friend’s place tonight?”

“At Martha’s? Sure,” he said with half a smile before adding if your mum asks, I’ll say it’s for a school assignment.

“…Martha and I aren’t friends any longer.”

“Oh! Since when?”

I’d say since about two years ago. That was the last friend he knew about. There had been Vanessa, Jessica, Melinda, Joanna, Anna, Teresa, another Martha and an Erica since then and before Violet.

“For a while now. Erm… thanks for covering for me, dad.”

“After today, you more than deserve it,” he said as he attempted another smile. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll… I’ll just walk. I kinda want to work some stuff out of my system before I meet her.”

◊◊◊

AsI passed by my father for the millionth time, he finally lost his patience and threw a comment about the floor being clean enough.

“I know that! I’m just trying not to freak out,” I replied, trying my best to ignore the fact I was already in full panic mode.

“I get that, but you are starting to form a trench on the floor.”

We’ve been basically having the same conversation with pretty much anything that was housekeeping. Even though you could eat out of the floor with no worries, no dust existing on the furniture, and even the sheets from my bed having been changed, I was still fretting over them. We might be poor in comparison to her, but I didn’t want us to look like slobs too. That was another ridiculous thing to stress over since I like to keep things tidy, so the house was already clean when I had begun my bustle and toil. There wasn’t any real reason for me to be that stressed. Convincing me, that was a whole other story.

The doorbell rang and I froze. Could it be her? It had to be. At this hour it couldn’t be anyone else.

Walking to the door, I was re-rehearsing the way I’d greet Abby as I opened the door, but once I grabbed the doorknob, I froze again. What if it was the mail carrier who came a bit late today to deliver a parcel for dad? It would be mortifying if I greeted him like I had pictured in my mind.

“C’mon Violet! Don’t leave her hanging,” my dad instructed like he was trying to whisper a yell.

Right, leaving people waiting was rude, so I opened the door.

“Hello Abby! Welcome!”

It wasn’t the mail carrier, but I still felt the urge to dig a whole and burry myself in it. My voice cracked in a way sounding like it was my first attempt ever at human speech.

“Hello again, Violet.”

That’s odd.

She said those words with a smile, but her eyes and voice didn’t carry the same emotion. It was a bit subtle, but I somehow could tell something was off.

That’s not the Abby I know.

I asked her if everything was all right to which Abby replied she was merely feeling tired. I was not feeling convinced at all it was simply that.

Nonetheless, I gestured her to come in, not knowing how to proceed from that point in the conversation.

“Hello Abby. I’m Violet’s father, Stanley Miller,” my dad said as he offered a handshake that was met with Abby’s miniature hand.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Miller,” she said in a very polite and, I confess, totally unexpected tone. I’m Abbigail Gardener, she added.

“Oh, you can just call me Stan. I mean, I’m already calling you Abby, right? Besides, you are a friend of my daughter.”

“I’d dare say I’m her best and only friend, Mr. Stan,” she said giving me a look. I was now totally convinced something was up. She was acting normal, but I could tell it was a forced normal.

“Hahaha. True. She isn’t much of a people’s person.”

Not you too dad.

I was now staring at the floor, red all over my face due to this conversation and the sudden realisation she had heard me at the park. Well, maybe. It was Abby, so it could just be her usual banter.

“Wait… Your last name is Gardener? As in, William and Elisa Gardener?” my dad asked, astounded.

“Oh, are you perhaps acquainted with my parents?”

“Well… not exactly. I work for them.”

That came as a shock to me. Was it ok for me to be friends with my dad’s boss’ daughter? Wouldn’t people make comments about us if they found out?

“Well, I’m sure they are very thankful for your contributions to the workplace.”

My astonishment was turned back to Abby. Her words sounded… weird? Almost as if she was reading a text all too familiar to her. I was feeling weirded out by it. Looking at dad, I saw he was too.

“Yeah, thanks. Anyway, you girls enjoy yourselves. If you need anything, I’ll be working until late, so you can knock on my door, ok?”

“Thanks dad. Just don’t overdo it, ok?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said as he disappeared up the stairs.

He is totally going to overdo it.

“He won’t be eating with us?”

I felt a bit relieved as Abby asked me this sounding more like her usual self, but there was still that nagging feeling something was wrong. Still, I felt like I shouldn’t let it slide just because she was acting more like her normal.

“He already ate. More importantly…” I paused to gather my courage to press on. “What’s bothering you?”

Her smile twitched and she feigned ignorance of what I meant, but that only made me double down on my line of questioning.

Watching Abby’s face was like watching a wax mask being melted by the heat as her true emotions came to surface.

She looked downwards, in complete silence. She then, unexpectedly, came to rest her head on my shoulder.

“I hoped you wouldn’t notice… Do you remember the lunch I had to go today? I had to act and talk like that for almost four hours. And even after that, I was yelled at by my mum because I didn’t perform.”

I felt her hands pinching my clothes as she finished her sentence.

“Perform?”

“Yeah, didn’t act accordingly to her expectations… You know Marcus Dwayne from second year?”

“Hmm, isn’t he one of the popular rich kids?”

“That one. I really hate that weasel smile of his. And he is always hitting on me.”

“Maybe he is just trying to be nice?”

Abby lifted her head, showing me a bitter expression all over her face, her eyes wet with tears she was fighting back.

“And do you think a guy is just being nice if he is always complementing your appearance and being constantly trying to be handsy with you?” she asked in a bitter tone, her tears starting to come out. “I could feel his thingy pressed on my back when he hugged me when we were alone.”

I was aware of his reputation. I hadn’t mentioned it before because I thought those two might be friends, and I didn’t want to risk making her mad at me.

Thinking how she’d sometimes make me feel by being so clingy, it wasn’t hard for me to imagine how it would feel if I were in her place. Even if it was him being playful, it would feel very wrong compared with Abby doing the exact same thing.

That definitely wasn’t just being nice.

“Yeah,” Abby mumbled as she rested her head on my shoulder one more time.

I placed one of my hands on her back, awkwardly giving them light taps.

“…Please, don’t tell anyone.”

“…Erm… to whom would I…”

I tried to be funny again to lighten the mood, but maybe that wasn’t the best choice? I feared that, but I heard her chuckling.

“Right, I’m the only person you talk to. Thanks, Violet. I feel a lot better now that I actually told it to someone,” she told me, putting her chin on my sternum and looking up.

I noticed I gave Abby a little smile in response to her quick one. She still didn’t sound the same Abby I had come to know, but I seemed to have heard relief in her voice. That was enough for now.

“So, are we actually going inside?” she asked while looking around me. “I want a full tour of your place.”

Showing her my house was so embarrassing, but she kept looking around with an amused smile and nodding along, sometimes making a comment.

“Hehe, it’s like a doll house,” she said, sitting on my bed at the end of our tour. “I love it!”

“Y-you do?”

“Hehe, yes! It’s tiny, so it’s easy to go from one place to the other! And it feels cozy! It’s a bit hot though. Ah! And your bedroom smells just like you! Mmh!”

I told her to stop sniffing the air, but her nose kept looking like a rabbit’s.

“Hehe, I can’t wait for the time to go to bed! Ah, that’s right!”

She hopped off the bed and approached me, taking her backpack out and extending it to me with a zip open. “Pick one without peeking! I wasn’t in the right mindset to choose, so I just brought a bunch”, she declared as she shoved in my direction her bag.

The bag, I now noticed, was chock full of DVDs. I hadn’t seen a car outside when I answered the door, so I was wondering if she had carried all that all the way on foot.

Putting my hand inside, I grabbed the first one it met. As I pulled it, something I assumed being her sleeping shorts came along. At least for my mental health I hoped it was that.

“Oh my, Violet!” she said with a cheeky smile. “That’s for bedtime, you naughty girl.”

I didn’t really react to her comment. My mind was too busy with the realisation that today she had, at least twice, complemented my apparel, but I hadn’t even noticed hers. Now, I was thinking if I should do it. But then again, what should I even say? She was wearing some brown shorts, a white t-shirt with black sleeves and dark canvas shoes. I guess it kinda fit her personality, but would that be enough?

“Why are you staring at me instead of the cover?”

“That outfit fits your personality,” I blurted without realising it.

“What, this?” she said looking herself up and down. “I meant to wear something cuter or prettier but ended up wearing whatever. Anyway, the movie? What do you think?”

I looked at the cover while feeling disappointed I wasn’t able to convey my message.

Humph… I think you look cute enough in that…

“Hehe, Violet?”

“Hmm?”

She was bobbing sideways with a wide smile and still giggling. Had I perhaps spoken out loud?

Again, to preserve my mental health, I glossed over the details and finally looked at the DVD I had grabbed.

It showed a man whom I presumed was the main character standing in front of a cabin in the woods. He had a chainsaw as a hand, for some reason? After flipping it over and read the synopsis, I got the idea it was a horror movie with some comedy elements.

A dark comedy?

That sounded right up my dad’s alley, and it had piqued my curiosity.

Abby didn’t sound all too pleased with my random pick though, commenting how she had hoped I’d have a different opinion, fidgeting and asking if I was a fan of horror.

Those movies were a hit and miss for me. I found them mostly silly—not in a “haha” silly way, and not that scary either. And the jump scares? I could see them coming light years away and the only reaction they got from me was eyerolls.

I offered to try a second draw, but she adamantly refused.

“No, no! Fate has chosen. We can always watch a comedy or something afterwards,” were her words.

As I had suspected, the movie was silly. Very entertaining, but silly. There were some scenes which I’d call creepy, but not all that much, nor were they that many.

Abby on the other hand had wrapped herself around my arm, her eyes staring unblinkingly towards the screen and looking less tanned around her face whenever the screen brightened up the darkness enough for me to see her features. That was leagues more entertaining than the movie.

There were three reasons why I didn’t shoo her away.

The first reason was, since she was only holding onto my arm, I guess I was fine with her being so clingy, even though it was a bit too stuffy.

Secondly, like I said, I was taking a cruel pleasure on her suffering. Let’s call it payback.

Lastly, I feared that if I touched or talked to her too suddenly, she’d jump so high I would have to scrape her off the ceiling.

“It’s not fair,” she meekly whined after it had ended.

“What?”

“You react to stuff all the time. Why were you so calm? That was the only reason why I even agreed to watching it!”

“No, like I said, we could have watched something else.”

“No way! If we did that, you’d have won from the start!”

And since when was it a competition?

After the movie came dinner.

I’ll come out and admit it, it was one of the things that worried me the most.

She was used to very good food, so would she like the food I prepared for us to eat? I consider myself an ok cook, but would that be enough? Also, the ingredients, they weren’t all that special either.

I watched her put a spoonful of stew in her mouth, apprehensive of her reaction.

“Mmh! I love this meat stew!” she cheered, wiggling on her chair.

That was such a genuine reaction, I had no doubt she was being completely honest.

“Fufu, thanks. Although it’s nothing special compared to what we eat at your place.”

“No, no, no! That is restaurant made food. This is way better,” she said as she shook her head. I’m not sure if it was to reinforce her statement or if it was still her shaking from the movie. I like how this tastes so homey, she added with a wide smile.

With all our interactions and today’s events in particular, I came to realize she was, despite all appearances, a very lonely person.

The same as me.

Maybe that was why, despite us being so different, we were getting along so well.

Wait, getting along so well?

I blushed at the thought.

“Are you that happy about me complementing your cooking?” she asked, already finished with her plate and sucking on the spoon.

“No, that’s not why I’m blushing.”

Ah! I didn’t mean to say the last part!

“That so? Then, will you tell me why, Violet dear?” she said grinning from ear to ear. She was already back to normal, huh?

“Nope, not happening.”

“C’mon! You meanie!” she stated with her whiny voice.

I still refused, but Abby wasn’t one to let that stop her from having her fun with me.

“If that’s the case, can I choose the game we are playing next?”

And what game was it that she was thinking I asked, feeling great suspicion in how she was now guiding our talk.

“Strip Poker!” she proclaimed.

I didn’t undress in front of people in school, and I certainly wasn’t getting undressed in front of Abby for her to see.

“Oh really?” Abby said as she pointed a finger at me. “Are you planning on sleeping in that then?”

I looked down. It was that dress.

“Oh no! I forgot about it! I even wore it as I cleaned the house!”

“Pfft, ah-haha. Don’t worry Violet. Even if it got dirty, you could always clean it,” she reassured me.

“That’s not the problem! Do you see any rip? Did I tear it somewhere?”

“I don’t know, it’s a bit hard to see with you sitting.”

Realizing the stupidity of my question, I stood up and spun around so she could see if there was any tear where my eyes could not reach.

“Well? Did you see anything?” I asked while having a small panic attack.

“Yup! A super-duper cute girl,” she said nonchalantly.

“That’s not what I wanted to know!” I reprimanded.

She just laughed at my outburst, as was usual.

“Don’t worry, it is fine. But that reaction was priceless.”

“Couldn’t you have told me that in the first place?” I sighted.

“So, you aren’t opposed to the compliment? Anyway, mind if we go to your room?”

“My room? Why?” I asked a bit stunned by her second change of subject.

“Three reasons really. Number one is that I ate too much and I’m starting to feel really sleepy. Number two, my day was actually quite demanding.”

She paused. Why was she pausing? Was she waiting for me to ask her what the third reason was? It felt like a trap.

“And the third?”

“I can see steam coming out of your ears. If this keeps up, I fear for your health.”

And just who did she think was responsible for that?