▸ Shadows and Sunlight: Chapter 12

The city streets, initially quiet, began to pulse with life as they walked, the trickle of pedestrians swelling into a steady stream. Clusters of students gathered, distinguishable by their distinctive uniforms, as they were all drawn to the same location. The uniforms stood out sharply against the drab, grey tones of the city: light blue blazers or vests adorned with yellow diamond patterns, complemented by red striped ties, and paired with grey trousers or tartan skirts.

As the crowd thickened, Ivy felt her shoulders tense, a slight hunch forming as if she were instinctively attempting to withdraw into herself, forming an unspoken shield against the overwhelming sea of people around her. Violet, however, seemed to thrive amidst the growing throng. Her head swivelled, captivated by every passing cluster of students, her lips perpetually curved into a wide, almost giddy grin. She practically danced alongside Ivy, her steps light and buoyant, her enthusiasm as infectious as it was perplexing to her companion.

"You're awfully cheerful," Ivy mumbled, casting a sideways glance at Violet, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion. 

Violet's voice, however, remained effervescent, brimming with genuine joy. "It's been ages since I've seen anything like this," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "So many people all heading to the same place…it's like a parade!"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Ivy's mouth as she rolled her eyes affectionately, her tone dry as she retorted, "It's just school, Violet. Don't get your hopes up."

Violet went silent, captivated by the grandeur of the towering building that stood before her.

Whitewater Charter School stood majestically, a testament to both prestige and rich history, where modern renovations harmoniously intertwined with its old-English architectural charm. The building boasted tall arched windows and elaborate stone carvings that graced its exterior, while sleek glass panels and polished steel accents hinted at its contemporary enhancements. The school's signature colours—blue, white, grey, and black—were evident in every aspect, from the flags dancing in the wind to the trim adorning the students' uniforms. 

As they neared the entrance, the throng of students swelled, radiating a vibrant burst of youthful energy. The place was alive with laughter and excited cheers as students rushed past, some quickly fixing their ties, while others excitedly shared their latest escapades or engaged in light-hearted banter. Ivy felt her unease intensify, her lips pressed tightly together as she navigated through the crowd. In contrast, Violet's enthusiasm surged, her eyes sparkling as they flitted between the grand school and the lively students.

Violet gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Oh my god," she exhaled, the words escaping her lips like a reverent whisper rather than a complete thought. "It's massive!" she exclaimed, her tone brimming with amazement.

Ivy interjected beside her, her usual bluntness cutting through Violet's awe. "Yeah… Unfortunately," she muttered, her face tense and clearly unimpressed.

Before long, the other students started to take notice of them. Ivy's presence was not unusual, as she wore the same uniform, albeit with a jacket instead of a blazer. However, Violet's lack of uniform and her lively energy drew everyone's attention. Murmurs spread among the onlookers as intrigued eyes trailed the duo. 

"Who's that?" a girl murmured to her friend, nudging her with an elbow.

"Is she new?" another chimed in, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't think so- I mean, just look at her clothes!" Her companion hissed back. 

Ivy, clearly disliking the attention, scowled and tugged her hood further down. "Ignore them," she muttered to Violet, urging her forward with a quickened pace. But Violet, rather than shrinking under the curious gazes, seemed utterly unperturbed. She held her head high, her shoulders squared, meeting the stares with a surprising confidence. She even offered a small, disarming smile to one particularly nosy group, her lips curving up in a way that was both disarming and faintly intriguing.

The crunch of gravel beneath their feet diminished as they reached the edge of the school grounds. Ivy, who had been practically dragging Violet along, abruptly stopped, her shoes skidding slightly on the loose stones. She turned to face Violet, the strap of her backpack slipping down her shoulder, and met her gaze with a serious expression. "Okay, listen up," she began, her voice adopting a more serious, almost authoritative tone. "You can't actually come inside with me. I-It's not that I don't want you to," she hurried to add, noticing Violet's expression starting to cloud. "It's just... well, you're not exactly in uniform, are you? And you're not enrolled, so they'd stop you right at the door."

Violet's face fell, her initial excitement dimming. "But—" she started, her voice laced with disappointment. 

Ivy, however, was already shaking her head, cutting her off gently but firmly. "No buts," She stated, then pointed towards a small grove of trees nestled against the back of the school fence, an area where the grass looked untouched and still, a place that was clearly overlooked by most. "See that spot over there?" Ivy's voice softened slightly, "Go wait there for me. No one bothers with that spot. I'll find you the second lunch starts okay?" She offered a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the sting of her earlier bluntness. 

Violet hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her hoodie. "What if someone sees me?"

"They won't," Ivy said flatly. "Just keep your head down. You'll be fine."

After a moment, Violet nodded reluctantly. "Alright."

"Cool, cool-! Well...uh...see you later, okay?" Ivy said, turning around and heading towards the main building, offering Violet a slightly awkward wave.

As Ivy's vibrant silhouette melted away into the bustling tapestry of the schoolyard, an unexpected pang of loneliness struck Violet. It was a momentary sensation, yet it lingered, a subtle throb in her heart as she observed her sole companion disappear into the crowd. Brushing it off, she shifted her focus to the school's perimeter, her eyes landing on the cluster of trees Ivy had pointed out. Taking a steadying breath, she began to stroll forward, the lively chatter of the schoolyard fading into the background, giving way to the gentle whisper of leaves and the faint buzz of activity. 

The designated hiding spot, a cosy cluster of trees hidden from the bustling activity, perfectly aligned with Ivy's description—offering an excellent vantage point to observe the school grounds without drawing attention. Violet carefully settled onto the ground, the coolness of the grass providing a comforting contrast to the warmth of the rising sun.

Huddled with her knees pulled close to her chest, she stared at the vibrant scene before her, her eyes taking in the unfamiliar environment. The students, a vibrant mosaic of movement and sound, seemed to glide through their routines with an easy grace that Violet found mesmerizing. They laughed, they chatted, they moved in patterns that seemed both natural and practiced, like a well-rehearsed play. This was a world she had long been estranged from, a place that felt impossibly far away, separated not only by distance but also by the heavy weight of years spent in solitude. 

A soft smile tugged at her lips despite herself. For now, she was content to watch, her thoughts drifting to the life she had left behind and the strange, unpredictable path that had led her here. 

⋯

The memory crept in slowly, like a film reel unravelling in her mind.

The scent of chalk dust, heavy and familiar, mingled with the crisp, almost metallic tang of freshly printed worksheets, instantly transporting her back. She found herself once again in the familiar halls of her former school—immersed in the echoes of her past. Back then, she was known as Vincent, a name that now seemed strange and distant, almost like a ghost of who she used to be. The constricting, coarse tie felt suffocating, its low-quality fabric a stark reminder of the uncomfortable uniform she had to wear—grey trousers and a ruby blazer that felt like a confining prison. Each fibre echoing the expectations of who she was expected to be. In the midst of feeling confined, a tiny spark of defiance flickered to life; it was nestled in the bag casually slung over her shoulder, its contents a well-guarded secret. Inside, carefully folded and infused with the gentle fragrance of Lily's lavender soap, were the garments that represented freedom—the very clothes Lily traded with her that morning. 

Lily, a shining example of unwavering empathy, was the only one who saw beyond the surface, never questioning Violet's quiet longing for skirts or the playful times she would delicately dust her cheeks with her mother's blush. When Violet—Vincent, back then—had initially hesitated to the idea of swapping clothes, Lily had laughed and brushed her off with a confident grin.

"If they've got a problem, they can take it up with me," Lily remarked, loosening her tie before passing her plaid skirt over. 

By lunchtime, the two of them were inseparable, giggling as they swapped their clothes behind the gymnasium. It had become routine: Lily would trade her skirt for Violet's trousers, their silent pact a small act of defiance against the rigid expectations their families imposed.

The memory shifted.

She found herself outside the school gates, the sun gently caressing her face while her classmates strolled by, giving friendly waves and nods. In that instant, she felt a sense of liberation, a spark of life. The breeze tickled her legs, playfully lifting the fabric of Lily's skirt. Although Violet had frequently seen herself as small and unimportant, in that instant, she felt… seen. 

Then came the sound. 

The low, rumbling growl of an engine resonated in the air, a sound that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. It was a familiar sound, one that had always signalled the arrival of something significant, but today it felt different—charged with an electric tension that made her skin prickle. Her heart raced as she turned around, her breath hitching in her throat as she caught sight of her father's unmistakable car gliding smoothly to a halt at the curb. The sleek, black vehicle gleamed under the afternoon sun, its polished surface reflecting the world around it like a dark mirror.

A shiver ran through her as their eyes locked through the passenger window, a moment that felt suspended in time. His piercing gaze, sharp and unyielding, sent chills down her spine, as if he could see straight through her, peeling back the layers of her thoughts and fears. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the very air between them crackled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. While his expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that had become all too familiar, the tight grip he had on the steering wheel conveyed a powerful message—one of control, of restraint, but also of something deeper, something simmering just beneath the surface.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, as she tried to decipher the emotions swirling in his eyes. Was it disappointment? Anger? Or perhaps a flicker of concern that he was trying desperately to suppress? She could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on her, a palpable force that made her stomach twist in knots. The world around them faded into a blur, the sounds of the bustling street and the laughter of children playing nearby drowned out by the pounding of her heart.

He snapped, "Vincent." The name he insisted on using, a heavy weight that felt more like a shackle than an identity. "Get in the car."

She froze, panic rising in her chest. 

Lily, who had been standing beside her, took a cautious step forward. "It's fine, Mr. Jenkins," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "We were just—"

"Get. In. The. Car..." her father repeated, his voice dangerously low.

Violet wanted to run, to grab Lily's hand and sprint down the street, but her legs felt like lead. She could feel her father's anger radiating like heat, suffocating her.

The memory fractured, the scene blurring at the edges. Violet blinked, realizing her face was damp with tears. Her hands trembled as she hugged her knees to her chest, the weight of her past pressing down on her. Her stomach churned, not from hunger but from the haunting echoes of her father's voice. She hadn't thought about him—about that day—in so long. The details came rushing back all at once, sharp and unrelenting. The crack of the door closing. The suffocating darkness. The rasp of her own voice as she begged, pleaded to be let out.

⋯

"Hey, you alright?"

A voice cut through the fog, pulling her back to reality. Violet flinched, her eyes snapping open to find Ivy crouching in front of her. Ivy held out a sandwich with one hand, her expression unreadable but her tone softer than Violet had expected. 

"You've been mumbling for a while now..." Ivy paused, her eyes narrowing. "Were you crying?"

Violet quickly wiped her cheeks and forced a smile, though it wavered. "No, just… thinking."

Ivy raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, she shoved the sandwich into Violet's hands and sat down beside her. 

"Lunch break's short. Eat up before the bell goes," Ivy said, her tone gruff but not unkind.

Violet nodded, unwrapping the sandwich with trembling hands. The memory lingered at the edge of her mind, but for now, she pushed it aside. She was here, in the present, with Ivy.

And for now, that was enough.