Page 2 of A Violet Obsession

“Then it’s an even more emphatic no.” I grimace. “He’s creepy. He’s always staring at my boobs in church and trying to brush up against me at youth group.”

Emma’s mouth opens, then closes. “Okay, that’s gross.” She eyes my chest and frowns. “Though, to be fair, they’re kind of hard to miss. I’m so freaking jealous. You have huge boobs, and I barely even need a bra.”

I tug at the top of my black one-piece, knowing that it won’t do much to cover me. “No, you’re not. With my ass and hips, I look like an Oompa Loompa from Willy Wonka.”

My best friend scowls at me. “You know I hate when you do that. You are gorgeous, and someday you’re going to realize it.”

“Plus, Tyler’s boring. And dumb,” I say to change the subject.

She huffs. “At least he’s not a weirdo like my brother.”

Finn’s not weird.

To Emma, Finn is her annoying older brother who would rather be gaming or taking apart his computer in his room than joining in on their family’s chaos. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get him.

But I do.

Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to not totally fit in with your own family. Finn’s surrounded by all the loud Markham energy, and he just… isn’t like that. He wants to be left alone. I can see it even if they can’t. Perhaps it’s because my parents act like if I make one wrong move or talk to a stranger, the entire world will fall apart. My mother is convinced I try to draw attention to myself, but I can’t help that I’m the only one in our small town to have red hair. I love my parents, but sometimes their paranoia makes me want to scream.

“Besides,” Emma continues in a tone with a little more bite. “Even if he thought of you like a girl, he’s too old for you, and he’s leaving.”

She’s not wrong.

Even if my lack of circuit boards makes me essentially invisible to him, Finn is eighteen and about to graduate from high school. Two weeks after that, he leaves for boot camp.

My stomach hurts at the thought.

The sliding glass door opens behind us with a soft scrape. “Okay, girls, time to wrap it up.” Emma’s mom gives her daughter an arch look. “I’d ask if you finished your homework, but I’m pretty sure Lily would be the only one telling the truth about it being done.”

Emma gives me a mock glare. “Such a suck-up. I hate you.”

“I know.” With a grin, I pull my cutoffs over my swimsuit and shrug into a T-shirt before toeing into my tennis shoes. “I need to get going anyway. I told my mom I’d help with meal prep for the week.”

Mrs. Markham sighs and gives me a one-armed hug around my shoulders. “Your parents are so lucky to have such a darling daughter. I’d adopt you in a heartbeat.” She smirks at her daughter. “But then you’d have to put up with all this one’s crazy 24-7.”

“Good point,” I smile, stepping past her into the house.

“Rude!” Emma bumps her mom’s hip gently out of the doorway and then dodges around her, racing inside. “I’ll do my Spanish… right after I take a shower.”

“Emma,” her mother calls, chasing her toward the steps. “This better not be one of your forty-five-minute ones that uses up all the hot water.”

I can hear Emma’s shrieks of laughter through the open windows as I climb on my bike. A loud, metallic clank makes me jump, my head swinging toward the open garage. Finn is standing, looking down at a barbell, his chest heaving. His shirtless chest.

Be cool, Lily. Be. Cool.

My cheeks turn to fire when he looks up and catches me staring.

“You okay, Butterfly?” Finn asks, pulling a headphone away from his ear.

My heart sinks at the nickname.

Emma’s right.

I will forever be a six-year-old with a butterfly obsession in his eyes. To be fair, my fascination with them lasted for a few years, and I wore a lot of clothes with butterflies on them. It could be worse—he calls Emma, Bob, because of her devotion to Sponge Bob when we were younger. The more Emma screamed and told him the nickname, “doesn’t even make sense because I love Patrick,” the more often he used it.

“Lily?” He’s frowning at me.

Crap. Answer him.