Orange Juice & Rum

June 13th, 1994.

This was so, incredibly stupid.

A graduation party attended only by social butterflies and previous students of high regard. Violet was admittedly neither of things, but somehow, she’d gotten herself wrapped up in the cheap booze and vibrating floorboards. Teenagers swayed clumsily, shouting over the impossibly loud music, ignoring the pungent scent of themselves.

It was miserable. Violet wanted nothing more than to spend her Friday night curled up in bed or possibly the couch, flipping through silly drama magazines and watching the latest episode of whichever show she could tolerate the most.

She told herself it was Louis who had convinced her to kiss that pipe dream goodbye. Arrived under the guise of spending one last night being irresponsible before the real world swept her away, just like every one else had. Deep down, she knew that wasn’t the true reason, though.

Maybe to others, it could’ve been, but Violet knew it was Clementine. In all her clueless glory, she danced in the middle of the living room, color lighting her up like a center piece. She had some sort of alcoholic seltzer in one hand and the other was high up, grooving with the rest of her limbs, setting herself on display for any wandering eyes to admire.

If Violet thought about it hard enough, she could tune out the sweaty ambiance and imagine it was a show for her alone. Clementine, entrancing her only, just the pair of them. What a soft memory that could’ve been. It was such a shame Clementine probably didn’t know who Violet even was.

They’d met briefly at the beginning of the school year. Clementine sat in front of Violet in chemistry, oblivious to the blossoming admiration from behind her. Focusing became nearly impossible when Clementine was there. Adjusting her seat and fixing her hair, smiling and scribbling. Violet’s notes had turned into infatuation poems quickly, far before any introductions.

At the end of every class, she would scratch out her pencil markings and shut her notebook tight. Watch Clementine pack up her things and bid her farewell from afar. Until tomorrow, she would think, wondering when or if she would muster the courage to say hello.

Two months later, they were lab partners. It was the best few weeks of Violet’s life. Her stomach would flip when Clementine laughed at her stupid jokes, her cheeks fighting against a blush. After that, she was astoundingly lucky to get a small wave when they crossed paths. With every bit of might she had, Violet prayed that Clementine remembered her name.

The song simmered to an end and Clementine stepped off the coffee table, shimmering with warmth. Violet clutched her half-full beer can, room temperature and flat. She took a swig to calm the flurry in her chest as Clementine vanished into the crowd.

Before she could set out to follow, a hand was stopping her by her shoulder. “Hey, Vi!” A voice exclaimed, familiar. Naturally, it belonged to no other than Louis, the party host and her unfortunate best friend. “I haven’t seen you all night. Where’ve you been?” He asked.

Violet was pulled into an involuntary, intoxicated embrace. She wrapped a stiff arm around Louis and patted his back awkwardly. “Uh, y’know. Around.” She shorted, looking through the array of people to attempt spotting her muse. Nothing to be seen.

“We’re playing beer pong downstairs, you should come join! Marlon would be thrilled to have you as a teammate instead of me, he keeps yelling about my aim…” Louis rambled, his slurred voice drifting into background noise. Whatever he was saying became incomprehensible.

As the next song blared, the living room was stirred into a blaze of blurry motion. Violet was lost in a swarm of people, searching deliberately for Clementine. Her eyes surveyed left to right, dug through uncoordinated dance moves and swirling solo cups. Beyond the blinking lights and shaky footing, Violet landed nowhere.

An embarrassing amount of anxiety trickled down her spine. It was ridiculous how much she cared for a girl that barely knew of her existence. Now that they were graduated, this may have been her last chance to talk to Clementine. Violet hadn’t particularly planned any forms of interaction to happen that night but she wasn’t highly against it.

She would stand from her place a dozen feet askew, wonder what would happen if she strolled up with confidence. Contemplate unique ways she could be rejected or rejoiced. Her thoughts consumed by how Clementine’s waist would feel between her palms, hips swaying smoothly.

The beer can crinkled under Violet’s tension, her nails digging into the thin aluminum. In the corner of her hunt, she caught the brim of an all too familiar hat.

She peeled out of Louis’ grip, shutting down his less than sober monologue. “Yeah, maybe, I’ve just gotta… Get some air.” Violet fibbed, slipping Louis a tight smile and beginning her dive into the rough sea of bodies, leaving no chance for farewells.

Jostled and jabbed, blinded and deafened, Violet trenched to the mighty glass door she’d watched Clementine exit through. With a squeak and some effort, Violet was hot on her trail.

Louis’ backyard was expansive. It stretched a couple yards back, lined with a guest house and a glowing pool. The air was tepid yet refreshing. Loud thunders of bass were muffled inside, along with the majority of people, little company scattered about the lush grass. Mostly, they grouped farther back at the gazebo, admired the dramatic fountain, chatted leisurely.

Violet inhaled, deep, held onto it for a moment before exhaling to the vibrant moon and stars. Her eyes settled finally on Clementine. She had ditched her pants and shoes, sat alone on the edge of the pool with her feet swimming in the buzzing water. The way the blue lights shadowed her figure gave her the halo Violet thought she deserved.

Nobody knew about Clementine. She was Violet’s private secret, belonging to the pages of her sketchbooks and rose-colored dreams. She would jive in her own bubble of imaginary kisses and false hope undisrupted. If anybody was let in, it wouldn’t seem so obtainable. Her friends would only encourage her elsewhere, assume Clementine was uninterested. Straightened.

Violet knew it was obsessive, and probably a little bit creepy, which is why she kept it to herself. Though, something had to be done; Violet knew that, too. It was now or never.

Purposeful steps clicked against the pavement towards the poolside. Violet took another drink of her beer, hoping her tipsiness would bestow her courage, that she wouldn’t come off too strong. Her knees nearly buckled when Clementine visibly perked up, turning around and spotting Violet’s approach. Violet felt her heart do extravagant flips and wheelies across her ribs.

“Oh, hey,” Clementine spoke, her voice a craving mixture of honey and lime. She smiled, welcoming and impactfully endearing. “I remember you. Violet, right?” She supposed. Her finger pointed Violet’s direction quickly before returning to her cup to lift it to her lips.

Violet screamed internally, commanding herself to be cool. With any luck, her glee wouldn’t be noticeable. “That’s me. Clementine, right?” She posed. Obviously, it was Clementine. Of course it was. Violet couldn’t ever forget, nor would she ever want to.

“Yep.” Clementine agreed. She patted the spot beside her, silently offering Violet a seat. She wiggled her ankles in the water, creating ripples, watched them linger along the surface.

Violet felt nausea as she sat down with her knees pulled to her chin, wrists overlapping. She was so indisputably close to a half-naked girl she’d been pining over for months, mind fuddled from the after effects of her alcohol intake, without a clue of what to say. She cursed herself for forgetting that part of the conversation during her daydreams.

Despite, it was exhilarating. Clementine knew her name. No, Clementine remembered her name. She had remembered Violet’s stupid, probably forgettable name and gone as far as to discard her seclusion, accepting her entertainment. And this time, it was real, unfolding in the current instead of fantasy.

Clementine wiped a dribble of her beverage off her chin, “I’m so glad to be out of class. I never understood chemistry.” She snickered, but Violet had already gathered that. She’d watched Clementine nibble the end of her pencil, furrow her brows in confusion, slyly copy answers off her paper during tests for hours when they’d sat beside each other.

“Me, too.” Violet chuckled lowly. Don’t be too forward, she reminded herself. “Those pop quizzes were hell on Earth.” She remarked. Often, she’d only studied so Clementine could score higher grades. School was never Violet’s priority, but it mattered to Clementine.

“I know,” Clementine huffed a giggle. “I swear, Mr. White wanted us to fail the class. He was such a buzzkill.” She shook her head softly, loosening a curl in one of her pigtails to fall over her cheek. If Violet didn’t know better, she would’ve reached over and secured it back in it’s place.

“Yeah, probably,” Violet snorted. She kept her arms glued to her calves, bouncing her beer can in her fingertips. It reverberated each tap, nearly empty and a bit wrinkly.

It was unexpected when Clementine reached over to grab the can. Violet, caught off guard, did her best not to wobble into the pool on accident. Clementine swirled the remaining contents, brushed over the logo. She took a ginger sip, let the bitter taste swarm her tongue before swallowing it down considerately.

“You wanna switch?” Clementine prompted, stretching her own solo cup toward Violet’s now barren hands.

Violet blinked herself back into her body. She took the cup, awkward, sniffed the fourth of liquid that swished around the edges. “What is this?” She asked, trying to keep her voice steady, playing it off like she was fully aware this was going to happen.

It smelled poignant, almost like a sweetly scented cleaner. Undoubtedly strong, oranges and citrus that would stab and flare at Violet’s taste buds. The color was a dulled shade of tawny, a few melted ice cubes floating to the surface. It was Clementine poured into a cup worth much less than herself, agonizing and curious, a lull for consumption.

“Orange juice and rum,” Clementine informed, cradling the beer can by her cheek. She laughed, soft and slurred, nipping a short few drops from the rim of the can. “Try it.” She urged.

Anything Clementine wished for was Violet’s command. She didn’t think twice or hesitantly before tipping the cup to her lips, swishing the mixture beyond her tongue and teeth. Decidedly, it wasn’t great. It was sour and plump, slightly watered down with more alcohol than juice. To Violet, that didn’t matter though, because it savored like Clementine.

“It’s good.” Violet shucked, gulping back her tight expression. She offered a slim smile at Clementine’s convinced expense. The inside of her mouth tingled with adoration.

Clementine flashed amusement, shuffling to a stance and lifting her arms above her head. “Do you swim?” She asked, innocent. Her t-shirt landed on the pavement with a fabriced flop. Her hat, tattering at the seams, fell beside it to leave her entirely exposed.

Staring was a given. Violet was entranced by every supple curve; Her hips dipped in and out, tanned and practically glistening. Her legs were toned and cursed with pretty bouquets of bruises, probably from her athleticism. A faint line hid in the waistband of her underwear, dainty and pink, silhouetting her toned stomach. Clementine was divinely sculpted.

Violet ripped her eyes away, her gut knotting and whirling, face dusted in red. Her self control was being tested vigorously and Clementine seemed none the wiser. There was this rush in Violet’s head that made her feel almost like passing out, “Um, yeah.” She tripped.

Deviously, Clementine took a few steps backwards. She ran and leapt into the pool with an excited yelp, sending a tedious spray of chilled water in Violet’s direction. It seared on Violet’s burnt cheeks and soaked her clothing with droplets. Clementine popped out of the water, flicking dripping curls out of her face, beaming drunkenly. “Jump in!” She beckoned, splashing.

That was easier said than done. All Violet had to do was strip down to her skivvies in front of her crush, then hop in the water without doing anything dumb. Much easier said than done.

Violet was never full of confidence in any aspect of the word. Majority of the time, she kept composed to herself. She had a broken habit of coming off bitchy, or rude, and folks let her know it. People pleasing was a game she had never beaten, or fairly attempted for that matter. Her specialty was lonesome and baggy clothing that left everything to the imagination.

The task of shedding her layers was daunting. Dirty boots, mismatched socks, patched jeans and hoodie, piled up right next to Clementine’s on the poolside. Her arms cowered over her bony figure, flattened in the wrong places. Her heart racked for an escape against it’s cage.

When Clementine smiled at her, nonjudgmental and soothing, it was like the sun had beamed rays on her only. A glowing sphere in the clearing of a grey sky, casting a perfect haze over every minor flaw. Violet wished she had a camera to capture this moment. To bury it in the soil and let it grow fruits, to pick one and peel it and let the juice pour down her neck.

She broke the surface of the pool with a splash. Water rushed around her and tangled in her hair, running down her body in a blissful chill. The fire that had been growing behind her ears was snuffed out by a veil of chlorinated blue.

A deep breath of oxygen flooded her lungs as she plunged above water. Clementine had moved to the edge of the pool, elbows perched on the concrete, fingers overlapping their grip on Violet’s beer can. Violet swashed over and mimicked the stagnant pose.

“Are you okay?” Violet wondered at Clementine’s suddenly serious face.

Clementine glanced back and forth, “I’m okay, just thinking.”

“Do you want to tell me what about?” Violet threaded. The booze in her system inched closer.

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do? After summer.” Clementine released. Her body rotated to Violet’s, eyes construed with concern. It looped remorse through Violet’s fingertips and poked holes at her heartstrings.

Violet hadn’t. All she knew was her artwork, and that she hated Ericson. She wanted to runaway with her paints and colors, never look back, live comfortably in some city in a swarm of framed pieces and autographed sketchbooks. She hadn’t applied to college, putting faith in her savings account and old pipe dream. Beyond that, she was blind.

“Maybe travel or some shit,” Violet shrugged, shedding lightly. “What about you?” She returned.

Clementine tucked her head into her arms. She shook with a humorless laugh, “I have no fucking idea.” She admitted.

That sounded unusual to Violet. Clementine, the girl who excelled at everything. She had graduated at nearly the top of her class, had been crowned captain of the baseball team, always wore a gleaming smile to whoever looked her way. Yet, here she was, vulnerable and utterly clueless. As the cherry on top, she’d opted to confide in Violet of all people.

Violet was struck silent. Her mouth abandoned moisture, a frog clogging her throat. She croaked, gasping for stray letters she’d seemed to forgotten. What could she say?

“Violet, there you are!” A voice boomed from the doors to the house. Familiar, sloppy, a body stuck halfway outside, waving around a large bottle of vodka. “I’m still getting my ass kicked at beer pong, I think Marlon is about to kill me! I need you!” Louis shouted in a plea.

“Uh, yeah, okay! Whatever,” Violet groaned, shooing Louis off with a free hand. She huffed towards Clementine, launching herself out of the water and bundling up her clothing. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. But I can come back, or something. If you want.” She offered, awkward.

Clementine sniffled, sewed her lips back into a smile. “No, that’s okay. Thanks for hanging out.”

Violet twisted the water out of her hair, cringed at the splatters on the concrete. She started to wander off, rejoicing her time spent with Clementine and blaming Louis for cutting it short. As she reached for the door handle, she sprung back around. It was now or never.

“Hey, um,” She coughed. “Would you want to hangout some time? Maybe?” Violet tried. She closed her eyes firmly, anticipating a gentle let down.

Clementine’s brows bounced. “Oh, yeah! Totally, I’ll look you up in my phonebook.”

Violet’s eyelids yanked themselves open in shock. Her body felt like jello, buzzing with relieved nerves. She stopped herself from skipping in cheer, squeezed her outfit closer to her chest instead. Don’t come off too strong. “Okay. Coolio, super rad. Just, y’know, whenever you get a chance.” She managed, shooting a distant finger gun.

“Alright,” Clementine snickered, kicking off further into the pool. “I’ll catch you later, Violet.”

“Later, Clementine.” Violet ricocheted.