Book 3: Chapter 9 - A Juice Box and a Paddle Ball

Miss Asher is clearly holding something back.
Rather than her initial hesitation to open up,
she seems to have something she actively wants to keep from me specifically.
I worry she may have taken recent rumors to heart,
and is allowing public opinion to affect her ability to open up during sessions.

Client displays increasingly desperate behavior as social pressure builds.
Keep an eye out for drastic measures as academic deadlines approach.
—Caleb Shepard, Violet Asher’s DAP Notes

“So I’m thinking, I should have just used my talent on the cop, right? If they actually were inside waiting for me? Like, I know it works on Shepard, who I’m pretty sure has an unusually high resistance. So it would work on some cop in the green district. I’m not even sure they were waiting for me. But if the cops have people guarding every likely target, it’s not gonna be their highest-level staff. It almost definitely would have worked. I actually didn't even think of it until halfway home, which is embarrassing. But I was having a bad day, so you’ll have to cut me some slack, ‘kay?” Violet explained.

Chase didn’t even look at her as they walked down the hall together. He was too miserable to so much as raise his head. He hated Violet's fucking necklace. They were far from alone in the busy orange halls. But the artifact she wore allowed her to speak as freely as she liked. 

“Oh, come on, seriously!” Violet complained. “Anyone would have made the same mistake, in my shoes! Don’t you ever just want to let off some steam?”

Chase remained silent. Not because he had nothing to say, and not even because he was afraid to speak. In fact, she always welcomed his responses. She didn’t even seem to care what they were. She simply enjoyed making him talk to her. His day would probably be better overall if he played along. It would help his overall goals as well. He was just... exhausted. And he couldn't force the words out. 

“Hey, I’m asking for advice here!” Violet complained. “I lost my temper, and someone might have seen me! I need some ideas about how to let off steam next time this happens. Or even better, what to do if I find someone waiting for me again. Come on, I know you have ideas.”

Chase took a deep breath. This was only going to get worse. He needed to give her a response. It didn't matter what. She just wanted to see him miserable. More miserable than he’d made her when they were growing up.

“You don't even know there was anyone waiting for you, Violet. You just saw someone in a jacket. That didn't mean anything,“ he finally said.

“That's true,” Violet agreed cheerfully. She offered a friendly wave to another boy in the hall as she spoke, then focused back on Chase. “But you should listen to people when they tell you someone might be dangerous. Can you imagine what would happen if they were right and you waved it off like that? That would just be cruel, don't you think?”

Chase had to bite his tongue. Every day, she pushed him. It was obvious she actually did want to see him accuse her. Sometimes, late at night, he'd try to convince himself it was a bluff. But she always crushed that idea under her heel when he saw her. She was daring him to speak up. She was ready for it. And she'd make sure he was even more miserable if he tried. He didn't know how. It seemed like an impossibility, considering how she already tortured him.

But he was never going to underestimate Violet Asher again.

“Oh, stop pouting, I'm just teasing!” Violet mocked after he was silent for too long. “I swear, you used to be able to take a joke. Are you still hung up about that time on the bell tower? You should learn when to let things go, dude. Now come on, help me out. Let's say the tool in the jacket was a cop. What do you think I should do next time?”

“You could try turning yourself in,” Chase grumbled under his breath.

Violet clasped her hands behind her back and leaned toward him in a flirtatious gesture. “Oh, that's a good start! But that would actually result in the opposite of what I'm aiming for. Come on, let's try harder together, okay, buddy?” she replied with the most saccharine, condescending tone she could manage. “I thought of Fatal Flaws, but I can't be caught using that in public. It's a dead giveaway. Plus, I only caught a glimpse of the target.”

Chase curled his fists until his knuckles whitened. “You murdered a man in the alley next door, and you're worried about one eye turning black in public?” he asked. This question he didn’t have to force. He was too genuinely incredulous.

“Pay attention, Chase!” Violet reprimanded. “I said I can’t be caught. I didn’t say I wasn’t using it. Obviously, I checked if anyone was watching. But I’d need to get close to the guy inside to use it on him, and that’s riskier! So obviously, Little White Lies is the talent to use, but what lie is reliable, do you think?”

Chase bit his lip. He was almost tempted to give her the advice she wanted. If she actually started doing what he advised, he could try to outmaneuver her. To warn people, and to finally have proof of who she was. But that wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be so simple. There was a chance she would listen to him, and there was a chance she would not. Maybe she would the first time, but not the second. Or she’d listen both times, but not after that. Maybe she’d share her exact plans for a year, and when he finally worked up the courage to use it against her, she’d be expecting it. And he’d find himself in a deeper layer of hell.

That was the worst thing about her. The way she was open with him. The way she told him everything. Because he couldn’t know if she only told him the truth, or if she mixed lies in with it. If he presented her claims to the police, would they arrest her, or would it only discredit him? And with him, anyone who made the same claims afterwards. It was an impossible gamble to take. And she knew it. He probably knew more about everything she was doing than anyone, but if he acted on it... he might just keep her free forever. He needed someone he could trust. Someone he could share everything with, and someone who would be believed if they were the one to speak up.

But that wasn’t so simple, either. Because they’d need to prove it, too. And Violet kept a close eye on him.

It didn’t matter what he did. There was always a chance that it was exactly what Violet wanted. He needed to do something, but he was unwilling to actively help her. And at the end of the day, that was what was at stake. He could gamble and accidentally help her, or he could suffer in silence, and only he would get hurt. Well. Only him and everyone he let her kill without saying anything. 

He hated himself more every day. And there was no way to avoid it.

“Well, fine. Be that way. We’re at my appointment now, so I gotta go. See ya, Chase! Take care of yourself!” Violet said. She’d stopped walking and was standing in front of Shepard’s office now. Waving her hands one finger at a time like some kind of blushing schoolgirl. That was exactly what she was, but the comparison still felt grotesque when he looked at the violence in her blue eyes. “I said see ya!” Violet repeated, her voice adopting a firmer tone. 

Chase tensed, but nodded. “See you,” he murmured. 

Violet held her finger and thumb together in an okay gesture, then turned on her heel and walked into the mental health offices. Leaving Chase entirely alone. He was relieved, but it was a bit like a drop of water in the desert. He was too hopeless to drink in the single ounce of peace he’d been allowed. That would fade over the day. He’d start to think of ways to stop her again as he spent more time away from her. But for the moment? He just felt like garbage.

“Things have been going really well with Chase lately! It’s almost like it was back home! He got really nasty with me for a while, but I think he’s starting to come to terms with Alex’s death, and he’s looking for someone to connect with again,” Violet explained. “At least, I hope that’s what it is.”

The cheer in Violet’s voice was real. Spending time with Chase always put her in a good mood these days. A stark difference from her childhood, when he was an omen for a shitty day. She'd been kicking herself for losing her temper again. Especially since it would make her actual target even harder to reach. But seeing that asshole refuse to meet her eyes was... energizing. And this time, she got to watch anxiety smother Shepard's face immediately afterwards.

“Are you concerned there may be a different reason you two are getting along?” Shepard asked.

Violet wrinkled her nose at the question. “I don't want to talk badly about a friend, particularly now that we're finally connecting. Especially just based on a bad feeling, you know?”

Shepard gave her a long look, and he seemed to hold consideration behind his eyes. But not a consideration for what she'd said. The way one thumb nervously ran over the other was evidence of what he really had on his mind. He'd been more and more preoccupied over the preceding three months, ever since Violet first used her talent on him.

Yet, he maintained his composure as he pushed forward. She could respect him for that much, if nothing else. 

“It’s not making an accusation to discuss doubts with your therapist, Miss Asher. Nor is it unkind or ungrateful. It’s expressing what is on your mind in a safe space. Nothing more, and nothing less,” Shepard promised.

Violet ran one hand through loose hair and let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. It’s not like you’re going to report my suspicions to anyone,” she admitted. “It’s just... He’s so nice to me in person. But you know how rampant rumors have been recently, right?”

Shepard only tensed slightly, but Violet caught it. Exactly as she always did. It helped that she’d been anticipating it. Ever since she’d used Little White Lies on him, he’d been eager to talk about any supposed “rumors” she might bring up. He didn’t push as hard as he could to direct the conversation. Not during most sessions, anyway. But he did push. Mentioning the only topic he really wanted to discuss was a bit like ordering a cup of whipped cream for a dog. The response was immediate. Especially after the reminder that the safety he offered was a lie, so long as he was reporting everything to her family.

“I remember,” he replied with impressive calm. “Are there more rumors about Chase that have been bothering you? You know that you can’t take such things at face value. But perhaps there is something about them that is resonating with you anyway?”

Violet shrugged and rested her chin on one palm. She looked toward the door as she spoke, as if she were lost in thought. “Yeah, I know. But it’s not like with the rumors about you. You’ve made it more than clear that you wouldn’t do what people have been saying. They are just making things up based on nothing. But Chase... he actually has the history to deserve suspicion. He accused me before. Of horrible things. Things that still keep me up at night. And then he changes so quickly. And it was a relief, but my other friends... they’re saying he still talks about me behind my back. Like he’s just faking it to get close to me. And I don’t want to believe that. I honestly don’t. But it just feels... really plausible, I guess. I don’t know. What do you think?” she asked.

“That’s understandable. Of course you would be concerned about that. When someone hurts you, it is by design that you remember. Pain exists to tell you when something is wrong. As a warning not to repeat a mistake. That goes for emotional pain as much as physical. That’s not to say things can’t be repaired with friends after they say something cruel, and I think it’s healthy to try. But it's also healthy to remember the wounds you’ve suffered in the past. Not to stew on them, or foster resentment, of course. But to reflect on them, and to keep an eye out for warning signs. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Shepard assured. “Would you like to share what sort of rumors you’ve been hearing? Is there some behavior from Chase that lends them credibility? If not, are you struggling to accept the possibility that he genuinely has changed? Perhaps these rumors are giving you a reason to withhold judgment for a little longer?”

Violet bit her lip. “The rumors? I don’t know. They are just so close to what he actually said to me. I don’t know if there is anything specific in this case,” Violet offered, her voice a bit noncommittal. 

Shepard gave her an evaluating look, then leaned back in his chair. “Alright. Let’s try an exercise. Let’s revisit the difference between the two sets of rumors, then. Those you’ve been hearing about other students or faculty, and those you’ve been hearing about Chase. I’d like you to think about whether you want to believe any of them, and what makes them different from those you’d prefer to dismiss,” he suggested.

Violet raised an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like the most direct way of attacking the problem. It did, however, sound like an excellent opening to probe for more rumors about him. 

“Well. Okay, I guess. Although I pay a lot less attention to rumors if I don’t know the people involved. I know you are big on boundaries, but would it be alright if I used what everyone’s been saying about you?” she asked.

Shepard paused, and his face tried to project uncertainty. Violet wasn’t a therapist, but if she had to guess, the answer to that question should’ve been “No.” Or some gentle variation on the denial. A redirection, perhaps. Anything but letting her direct the conversation to his problems.

“If you’re comfortable with that, I don’t mind,” Shepard agreed.

Violet was definitely in control.