Page 100 of Jax
“You’ll have to pry them from my cold, pedicured corpse.”
Maddy’s shot hit her square between the eyes and bounced into the couch.
“Shit!” she laughed. “That should’ve counted.”
I watched from my corner of the couch, back propped against the cushions, legs stretched out, glass balanced on my stomach. Bellamy handed me a kernel like it was sacred.
“Your turn.”
I raised a brow. “Do I look like I have the coordination for this?”
“You look like a woman who needs a win.”
I snorted, tossed the kernel. It arced, then smacked me in the cheek and vanished into my bra.
Bellamy blinked. “Boob bonus. That counts double.”
Maddy wheezed. “God is real, and she’s got excellent aim.”
I fished it out and held it up like a trophy. “So what’s the leaderboard?”
Bellamy grinned. “Me: elite. Maddy: tragic. You: blessed by the titty gods.”
It was stupid, chaotic, and the kind of nonsense Violet would’ve loved, or at least faked for my sake. She’d have topped off my glass, kept me grounded, reminded me not to get so lost in the laughter that I forgot the world’s teeth. She was the first to make me feel like I didn’t have to earn the space I took up.
Now I was here, drinking Prosecco and slinging snacks with women who didn’t know me, not really, but still offered something that felt like safety. Softness wrapped in sarcasm and sugar.
The movie played on, flickering shadows across the walls.10 Things I Hate About You.Maddy and Bellamy mouthed every line like gospel. I didn’t know the words. Didn’t care. I liked watching them know. Watching them love it without apology.
A line floated from the screen. “Do you think people can be trusted?”
The room quieted. Not awkward, just thoughtful. Bellamy tucked her feet under Maddy’s legs. Maddy swirled her wine and stared at the ceiling like she was deciding how honest to be.
I said nothing. Didn’t want to. I just let my body sink deeper into the couch, into the glow of warmth and proximity, into the quiet realization that, for tonight, I wasn’t on the outside.
Bellamy leaned against Maddy. Maddy painted her nails with glitter polish like it was sacred. I stared at the ceiling, chest heavy with all the things I didn’t know how to say.
I thought about Violet. How she braided her hair too tight, wore fuzzy socks year round, avoided sad movies unless she needed the release, and when she did, she picked the saddest one she could find and cried into my arm until she fell asleep. She would’ve hated this movie. But she’d have sat through it anyway. For me.
And now she was gone. Not distant or ghosted or unreachable. Gone. Taken. Erased by men who wore power like armor and treated cruelty like currency. They didn’t need a reason. Just an opening.
And here I was, full of sugar and Prosecco, letting myself forget. Just for a minute.
The guilt hit fast. It always did. Sharp and unrelenting, a betrayal that carved beneath my ribs. I hadn’t cried in days, but in that moment, I came close, not because I didn’t deserve this, but because she didn’t. Because deep down, I still believed that if I’d been faster, smarter, stronger…
Bellamy nudged me, her face streaked with glittery face mask goo. “You good, newbie?”
I blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“Dangerous hobby.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
She grinned and bumped my shoulder again. Maddy leaned over and pressed a tiny glitter sticker to my cheek like a badge of honor.
“Welcome to the war paint brigade,” she murmured. “We don’t cry here. We sparkle aggressively.”
It was ridiculous and sweet, and exactly what Violet would’ve wanted for me. So I let myself have it. I laughed. I reached for more popcorn. And for the first time in too long, I let myself exist without calculating the emotional fallout. Not forever, just for now. And that, somehow, was enough.
