9
Violet
I’ve been happy before, but never like this.
Maybe that’s selfish to say. Maybe I should be more grateful for how idyllic my childhood was. Maybe I should remember all the fun I’ve had with my friends, or how I’ve always adored the hustle and bustle of New York City. Blissful memories twinkle like stars in my mind; I should look up at them more often, and show gratitude on a daily basis.
But this happiness is different. The ecstasy I’ve experienced in the past month with Mike and Scott makes everything else seem to pale in comparison. The utter euphoria that overwhelms me when I’m in their arms is like nothing I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t have even imagined this kind of happiness, couldn’t have dreamed it. It’s almost indescribable.
I’m in love with both of them. I know I am. I can tell by the way my heart races when Scott looks at me a certain way, or when Mike aims his signature half-smile at me. I don’t love one of them more than the other, either--my feelings are just as immense for each of them, as if they both consume half of my heart. Both of them make me want to be a better person, and somehow, bring out the best in me no matter the circumstances.
They treat me, after all, like I’m an angel descended from the heavens. They’re always complimenting my looks, or my intelligence, or laughing at my dumb jokes. They open doors and pull out chairs for me to sit in. They cook delicious meals at their apartments--we alternate each week from Mike’s to Scott’s--and if we all sleep in the same bed, they claim my body from either side. Mike and Scott treat me like a precious object, like someone to be cherished. In short, they make me feel worthy.
It’s been hard to keep the secret from my parents. Rose and Wilbur still call once or twice a week, usually to ask how my weight loss is going. Never have our conversations been more annoying, but I’m learning to let it go. In the grand scheme of things, an extra twenty pounds doesn’t matter. I still shudder at our last conversation though.
“How are things?” Rose asked.
“Fine,” I say.
“What does that mean?” my mom quips.
“Just fine!” I chirp. I used to be annoyed by her constant badgering, but now, I’m learning to let it roll off my back. I haven’t lost a single ounce since the beginning of the semester, but Mike and Scott worship my every curve.
“You sound different,” my mom worries, her voice a bit suspicious. “You sound happier. What is it? Are classes going well?”
“Super well!” I enthuse.
“And Kristy’s a good roommate?”
“The best.”
“Violet,” she says then, her tone growing hushed, “have you met a boy?”
I laugh. Clearly, Rose is still hoping I’ll get my MRS degree at college. “Nope!” I say. It’s not even a lie. I haven’t met a boy. Instead, I’ve met two fully-grown, smoking hot, better-than-my-daydreams men.
It’s not even just the sex, although that, of course, has been mind-blowing. It’s how much Mike and Scott respect and admire me. They look out for me, helping me with my homework and providing much-needed life advice. When I was struggling to decide what to major in, we put our heads together and made a list of subjects in which I was particularly interested. (To their chagrin, astronomy was not on the list.) I remembered that I used to love reading medieval fantasy books as a kid and still had a lot of lingering interest in the Middle Ages.
“Is that something I can actually study?” I asked at Mike’s kitchen table.
He laughed. “You can study whatever you want!” he said.
“If we can study space, you can study European history,” Scott confirmed.
Suddenly, I was actually excited about school again. I never hated class, but it was becoming boring drudgery instead of something interesting to look forward to. Plus, I wouldn’t have reached a major decision without Scott and Mike’s guidance. Each and every aspect of my life seems better because of their influence.
I’m even having better hair days, I think as I scrutinize myself in the mirror. It’s true. My brown curls spring with life, and the natural golden highlights gleam softly. Could it be the sex doing it? I ask with a smile. Does that affect your hair?
But then I giggle. I’m getting away with myself. Mike and Scott and I are having a date night in public tonight, and it’s important to look pretty. Usually we just have dinner and watch a movie at one of their apartments, but we decided to go to an actual restaurant this evening. The place has a small back room that we were able to reserve, so we won’t risk anyone seeing us. I worry sometimes that Mike and Scott are bothered by having to keep things so discreet, but if they are, they haven’t said anything. I’m just glad that I’m able to confide in Kristy.