XOXO, Violet by Ginger Li
2Violet
Micah: Are you really doing this, Vi?
Marcus: She’s got to. We already told the convention organizers.
Micah: Don’t listen to him, Vi. Just say the word and we’ll bail.
Marcus: You do and we’ll have to return a large sum of money.
Micah: Don’t let Marcus bully you. I’m your brother. I got your back.
Marcus: Dude. I’m her brother too.
Micah: Well I’m better looking.
Marcus: Seriously? What are we? Twelve?
Ugh. Brothers. I shook my head with a chuckle. They were always trying to one-up each other. With a grin, I texted them both.
Me: Don’t put me in the middle. I’m neutral here. Just call me Switzerland.
Micah: Did I ever tell you how much I admire you, oh smart and beautiful twin sister of mine?
Marcus: Whatever. Vi - if you really don’t want to do this, tell me now. I’ll troubleshoot.
I exhaled forcefully,tempted to back out. Even the mere thought of speaking in front of hundreds of people made my stomach curl in on itself and my palms clammy. But Marcus was right; I couldn’t back out now. Everyone needed to know the truth.
Me: Don’t worry. I’m still in.
Someone tappedme on the shoulder. “Who are you texting?”
I pulled myself away from our absurd group chat and looked up to find Piper’s brown eyes staring at me. We were both outside the choir building, waiting for Olivia to come out.
I slid my phone back into my bag. “My brothers.”
Piper tilted her head and shot me a sympathetic look, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders. “Is Micah checking that you’re still comfortable with going to YouCon?”
I let out an exaggerated sigh. Unlike Marcus, born three years before us, Micah beat me out by only two minutes, but he still took it as license to act like an older brother. “Marcus is worried I’ll back out.”
YouCon was a convention held in LA every year, and it’s where all the top YouTubers got to meet their fans. It’s an amazing, over-the-top event.
And I’ve never gone.
Despite having been a YouTuber for a little over four years and the convention only being a short drive away, I’d not attended. But everything was about to change. No longer would I hide in the shadows. This past summer, I’d taken a giant leap forward and written my first ever book on houseplant care, and my manager—our older brother, Marcus—thought I needed to do a book tour…and speak at YouCon.
He was right—the event would do wonders for my career.
IfI survived it.
Hold on. For those of you who haven’t already met me, perhaps I should do a quick introduction.
Hi. My name’s Violet Reyes, aka Shy Plant Girl on YouTube. I make videos about houseplants, succulents, and backyard gardening. When I started my channel back in eighth grade, I didn’t think there’d be a huge plant-loving fan base out there. Thankfully, I was wrong. Today, I have over two million subscribers, and my channel’s evolved into a small family business. While Marcus crunches the numbers, I do the recording and social media, and Micah designs my merchandise and edits my videos.
You’d think that with so many followers, I’d constantly have people stopping me for photographs, or I’d have been forced to quit school to avoid my fans. But nope and nope. So far, that hadn’t happened because no one’s ever seen my face. I’d never revealed my identity on camera.
But that would all change once I spoke at YouCon.
Eep.
“Sorry, gals.” Olivia strolled out of the chorus room, her curly black hair loose and flowing behind her. Dressed in a black tank top and dark ripped jeans, she looked more like she belonged on the streets of Los Angeles than Mermaid Cove, our small Southern California beach town. “Just had to talk to Mrs. Spiros about a song I’m working on.”
Olivia, Piper, and Micah recently formed an Indie band called Great Expectations. They started playing together to help raise money for Piper’s brother’s preschool, and following their first performance, the band’s popularity skyrocketed. Hardly surprising given that Piper had been a piano prodigy, Micah rocked the drums and the bass, and Olivia wrote original music in addition to having killer vocals.
Even though I’d never learned to play any instruments—unless you counted squeaking on the recorder in third grade, which my parents’ eardrums were still recovering from—I viewed myself as an honorary band member, as I helped with their social media. Years of being a YouTuber had honed my skills. Now I could Instagram with the best of them.
Piperand I followed Olivia down the sidewalk toward the rest of the buildings on East Beach High’scampus. Overhead, the sky was a clear, lazy blue. We were lucky here. Mermaid Cove’s weather was often sunny and always mild—even in early December.
As I walked with my two best friends, reveling in the gorgeous day, the door to the nearby orchestra building opened, and I froze in my tracks.
Do you ever watch those cheesy romance movies? You know the ones I mean. A hot guy appears, and suddenly everything moves in slow motion, then he’s magically shirtless, riding a unicorn, and out of nowhere, a hose sprays him with water?
Yeah, well, that’s what happens every time I see him.
Chase Patrick Bond.
He’s been my “one” ever since he lent me a pen in Freshman English. Chase was the almond butter to my jelly. The whipped cream to my hot chocolate. The fish fertilizer to my houseplant. Tall and lean, herocked a signature look: dark wash jeans, a vintage T-shirt, and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. On warmer days, he wore jean shorts. And on cooler ones, a flannel shirt and a beanie.
Olivia called him a wannabe hipster, but I thought he looked artistic. Dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes teamed with an aristocratic nose and slender lips. Not only was Chase effortlessly cool, but he was also one of the smartest kids in our grade and a talented cello player. The guy played so beautifully that it brought people to tears.
I knew because I’d experienced it firsthand, as I attended all of his orchestra shows. Chase was also the reason why I joined choir our senior year, despite it being a pain and a half to squeeze into my schedule. Every year, choir and orchestra held a joint spring concert, and knowing that Chase and I would share the same stage gave me such a thrill.
My heart skipped a beat when I noticed him scanning the students walking by.
Please let him see me. No, wait. Please don’t let him see me. No, wait. Please—
Chase’s brown eyes met mine. “Violet?”
That’s me! He knows my name. Ugh. Of course, he knows my name. We’ve been in the same math and science classes since freshman year.
Chase pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair. My fingers tingled.
Would his hair feel as soft as it looked?
When he gave me a slow smile, my heart momentarily stopped beating. “You ready for our bio exam?”
As blood rushed back to my brain, I concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
Stay cool, Violet. It’s a simple question. Don’t freak out.
“I-I-I.” My palms turned clammy and I lowered my gaze, unable to keep my eyes focused on his face. You’d think I’d be used to talking to Chase by now, but everything about him felt too brilliant. Too bright. Like staring directly into the sun, it burned me every time.
Someone behind me coughed, “Violet.” I lifted my head and realized Olivia and Piper were still there, watching. Olivia jerked her head toward Chase. Although she said nothing, I could hear her voice in my head as clearly as if she’d spoken the words out loud.
Say something, Violet. The guy of your dreams is right here. Now’s your chance.
I fiddled with the pendant Mom made for me years ago. The aquamarine stone was supposed to help me be brave. While I’d never believed in Mom’s crystals, I offered up a quick prayer, promising the gemstone gods I’d sing their praises from the roof of the school library, wearing only a garbage bag if the stone actually worked.
“N-no,” I blurted out. “I mean, yes. I’m ready for our bio exam. Well. Maybe. I…I didn’t get a chance to study too much. Our neighbor’s cat wouldn’t stop meowing last night. I think she must be in heat.”
Chase took a step back, his eyes darting past me as if searching for a way to escape this conversation.
Abort! Abort! I dropped the pendant, my face flushed with embarrassment. Even with my tan complexion, courtesy of my parents’ Filipino heritage, I probably resembled a roasted tomato. Curse you, false gods!
“S-s-sorry. Sometimes my mouth rushes to s-s-speak without me thinking. My synapses fire too quickly due to my fat brain. Good fat, by the way. Like myelin sheaths that wrap around nerve cells.”
Oh. My. Gosh. Please, let future me invent a time machine and come back to this moment to rescue present mortified me.
I waited a few seconds. Nope. Still here. Thanks a bunch, Future Violet.
Chase cleared his throat. “Right. Myelin sheaths. Because we’re learning about the nervous system. Good one. Anyway, I’d better go. Don’t want to be late for Italian. See you later.” He turned and fled.
A screechy noise came from somewhere nearby. When a hand began rubbing my back, I realized the annoying sound was coming from me. I was squealing like an angry tea kettle.
How could this happen again? Why did I bring up fat brain cells and cats’ mating patterns?
Piper’s hand fell from my back. “Hey, at least you spoke to him. That’s an improvement from last time.”
“If you’re referring to that time where I just stared at him and said nothing, then yes. But that’s setting the bar really low.” Hot, angry tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I just wish I could be normal, you know. Instead of being…”
Shy. Awkward. Purveyor of inappropriate words.
“Me.”
Olivia hooked an arm through mine and gave me a look of loving sympathy. “We love you, Violet. You’re unique and talented. And we’re not alone in thinking that. You’ve got a whole bunch of fans who think you’re amazing.”
I forced a smile to my face. Olivia was right. I was constantly surprised by and thankful for my online supporters, or my “Wallflowers,” as I called them. Thanks to them, the income from my channel had helped my family out of a tough financial spot a couple of years ago when Dad lost his teaching job and Marcus began looking at colleges. It could have been a challenging year for our family, but the channel kept us afloat until Dad found a new position.
Yeah. My Wallflowers rocked.
But at that moment, I would have traded all the views, sponsorships, and even my upcoming book sales to be able to look people in the eye and talk to them normally.
I sniffled and dabbed the corners of my eyes. “My fans don’t even know who I am. And Chase will never see me as anything besides a weirdo.”
“Well, if you’re a weirdo, then so am I,” Piper declared. “Who else can bend their finger this far back?” She demonstrated by bending her index finger more than ninety degrees backward, and I inwardly cringed. It looked like her finger was about to snap off.
“And I love chorizo and Nutella sandwiches,” Olivia added.
Piper nodded. “If Chase is the right guy for you, he’ll appreciate all the funny things you say.” She looked so sincere that I wanted to believe her. But I couldn’t forget that uncomfortable look on his face.
I sighed. No way would Chase ever fall for someone like me.