Vol.5, Chapter VIII — The School Trip Part I: Room 6 and Room 10

As someone who has visited big towns and cities before, I can understand some of the appeal in living in one. There are all the malls and stores when our little town only has a mall with just a few stores. There’s all the places to eat and a good amount of them from different cultures while in ours, there aren’t that many in comparison nor is the variety all that great. There’s at least one big cinema with many and huge rooms so people can pick and choose four, five, maybe even six movies all at the same time while in ours, there was only two relatively small rooms and we were limited to a schedule even if there was a variety of movies to see. If you’re old enough for it, and are into that, there’s also plenty of clubs and bars whereas in our little town, I wouldn’t be surprised if we could count them with two hands. For someone like me, there’s plenty of gyms to pick and choose while in our hometown there’s the one I frequent and maybe three more, but they are relatively small and don’t have all that much equipment. Equipment enough for me, but I can see some of the guys, bodybuilders mostly, sometimes having to improvise so they can do a certain exercise with, for example, the cable machine.

Of course, not everything is great in a big town, and we were currently experiencing one that for me—and as I observed Violet, she too—found it to be a huge detractor.

“Do you think we’ll be stuck here for long?” Violet asked, slightly shifting on her seat.

“Maybe,” I said, feeling a bit of pity over her. “It’s around lunch time, so there’s a lot of people going to eat or picking their kids from school for lunch. Still, better than what it typically is during the morning or end of the workday.”

“Hmm… I’m starting to think that big town life isn’t for me,” she grumbled.

Unlike me, Violet had never been outside our little hometown, so this was all very new to her, and if it isn’t obvious by her statement, she wasn’t impressed.

“Are you girls doing ok?” our homeroom teacher asked, seeing how Violet was acting in one of her many up and down walks through the bus isle to check on her students.

“Yeah,” I told her, dropping my voice in tone. “Violet just needs a little bathroom break.”

“Can she hold on for another half an hour?” Miss Maple asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The driver told me that’s how long it should take us getting to the hotel. You can just see it a little ways ahead.”

Violet gave us a nod that didn’t seem to be her putting on a brave face. Lucky for her, I had foreseen getting stuck in traffic, so I put a hard cap of how much water she could have on the bus. I had only allowed her to keep a half-a-litre bottle instead of her usual litre-and-a-half. She complained about feeling parched, but right now she was likely thanking me in her mind.

So, we were stuck in traffic, in a bus with no bathroom. What else was there? Well, since this was a field trip, we were in our uniforms and there were two other busses with two other classes of the same year as ours, each having at least two teachers to keep us under control and alive. Stephen and Mathew sat by us on the other side of the isle, and Mathilda was directly in front of them on the outer seat so she could face us to talk. Or at least, the latter was Mathilda’s plan, but she completely blacked out fifteen minutes after the bus started going. The boys took this opportunity to play some videogames together, something that Miss Maple graciously pretended not to notice as they weren’t supposed to bring that kind of stuff on the field trip. As for me and Violet, we’ve been mostly silent. Turns out, Violet is the kind of person who enjoys staring out of the window during road trips. Not surprising at all really, I’ve seen how quiet she gets when getting a car ride from my dad. I was fine with it since I could still snuggle with her and Violet did pay me some attention here and there so it’s not like I was being neglected.

What else could I say? Hmm… ah! The other teacher that was assigned to our class, Miss Sourface. Obliviously, that’s not her real name, but her face was in a constant expression that looked like she had a lemon rubbed into her tongue. She wasn’t one of our teachers, thank goodness for that, and she was giving our teacher a hard time. She was the kind of senior that always seems to have to one-up their juniors. Our teacher could say something perfectly fine, such as “once we get there, please stay in the group, and if you have to leave it, always do it with at least one more person and warning at least somebody else”. Pretty standard, perfectly good advice, yes? Well, Miss Sourface then would repeat the exact same words while adding that we should warn her or Miss Maple beforehand, which is a fine addition, ignoring two facts: the way she looked at Miss Maple after parroting her words and making the addition, all smug and superior, and the second factor being that it’s her and Miss Maple for twenty-four students. I get it, it’s better to warn the adults in charge of us, but what if we can’t find them because they are busy with the other twenty-two students or having some teachers’ meeting? I’m being nitpicky, but this was brought by her unpleasant attitude.

And you wanna know the best part of it? She was great friends with our previous math teacher, the old man Miss Maple came to replace and who hated mine and Violet’s guts. How… apt.

The half an hour turned out to be a little over twenty minutes, a blessing for Violet and other students, mostly girls, who all flocked to the bathroom.

Typically, I’d be the one taking care of Violet’s bag, but since we were to sleep in separate rooms, that honour fell upon Mathilda who was still rubbing her eyes, having had the sleep of her life apparently.

“Damn, I don’t even remember falling asleep,” she mumbled, still rubbing her eyes.

“Did you not sleep at all tonight?” Stephen asked with a chuckle.

“No, I actually did,” Mathilda told him, lightly bumping into him as she turned to face him. “I slept like a baby despite all the excitement. I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open when riding a car. Or bus, apparently.”

“Good thing that doesn’t apply to Luigi,” he laughed.

“I’m holding on to you, so it’d be fine,” she said with a small laugh, starting to sound fully woken up.

“Yeah, that way, if you fall asleep, I can be your cushion after you fall out of Luigi and drag me along.”

The four of us laughed at that exchange, Mathilda hanging from his arm as she called him terrible for saying that.

Violet came back from the bathroom shortly after, looking lighter. She was also looking like she was already taking notes.

The hotel lobby was… a hotel lobby. Sorry, but there’s really nothing much to tell about it. It was a three-star hotel, so it was all pretty standard. There was a glass door giving access to the lobby, a small sitting area with black cloth couches arranged around three coffee tables with magazines and newspapers on top, the walls were white and with a few impressionist paintings for decoration. Nothing impressive or worth writing home about, just like the outside. It was simply a white, tall building with the name of the hotel on a sign in red letters and that was it.

“First time in a hotel, huh?” I asked, curious to know why Violet seemed so analytical.

“Hmm? Ah! Yes, it’s my first time in a hotel, yes,” she said, all flustered for no reason. “Well, technically second time…”

“Right, yeah,” I hummed, getting her meaning. “Let’s just hope we have a better time this time.”

She went back to looking around as if she was evaluating the place, even after I reminded her that this needn’t be in the report.

“How does this hotel compare to others you’ve been at before?” she asked me, making things click.

She was analysing the hotel because—surprise, surprise—she was thinking of honeymoons. At the very least, she was thinking about us taking a trip together, just the two of us.

“Pfft, hehe! You can be such a silly person,” I said, hugging her arm and not being able to hold back a mini giggling fit.

“H-how am I being silly right now!?” she asked, shocked by my reaction, and likely flustered by the fear of me having seen right through her.

“Get a room you two,” Mathew told us, being the one closest to us right now.

Mathilda, having heard him, immediately came demanding to know why he was saying that, but no answer came to her as our homeroom teacher started calling each group one by one to retrieve the respective room key. It was time for me and Violet to be separated for the first time during the trip.

Our class was all allocated to the fourth floor, my room being the number six while Violet and Mathilda, along with Jessy, were in the tenth.

“Abby? Could we ask you a question?” Rose, one of my room mates for the trip, asked.

“About me and Violet not sharing a room?” I asked back, already knowing what the question was. Violet and I knew this question would eventually come up, so we had already agreed on an answer for us to give. “Miss Maple asked us not to due to our relationship.”

“So… the rumours are true?” the other girl, Claire without an E, so just Clair asked. “That you and her are dating?”

“Yup, we are,” I told them. “Sorry if sharing a room with someone like me makes you feel uncomfortable, but I really mean it when I say this: you two are very pretty and attractive, but Violet is the only girl for me.”

They stared at one another before looking back at me. They asked if they could make a somewhat personal question. I told them that I wouldn’t be answering anything relating to intimate acts out of respect for Violet and our relationship. They assured me it was nothing like that. Instead…

“How is Violet like in private?” Clair asked.

“Yeah, how is she when it’s just the two of you?” Rose echoed back. “We’ve seen glimpses that she might not be so serious and reserved when alone with you so we’ve been super curious about it.”

“Hmm… how is she in private?” I wondered out loud, thinking whether I should answer or not, and how to answer. “She’s… caring. Very caring. She can also be just as shy, so that’s about as much as I can answer before feeling like I might be overstepping without consulting her first on it.”

Their faces lit up, that almost non-answer being enough to satisfy their curiosity. I suppose they just wanted to know if Violet had a softer side than she appears to show at school.

◊◊◊

There were a couple of choices when it came to how our rooms could have been arranged: three individual beds, or a couple’s bed and an extra bed added. My room at least went with the latter.

“Violet, you get the couple’s bed,” Jessy immediately offered, setting her bag on the single’s bed. “I’ll stay in this one.”

Nope, that wouldn’t work at all. Mathilda was a very close friend, but I still didn’t want to share a bed with another person who wasn’t Abby. You might call me complicated, I see myself as… ok, I also see myself as that, but also, as a very committed girl.

“Actually, I’d prefer staying in that one,” I said, already having come up with an excuse long ago. “I toss around in bed so Mathilda will likely wake up all bruised up if we share the bed.”

“Really? Ok then, if you say so.”

I thanked her once verbally and twice mentally. This sounds very manipulative—and it is, in a way—but I was thankful that she was such a fangirl over me and had a crush that she didn’t even protest my request to have the single bed. And honestly, even sharing the bed with Mathilda would certainly be more comfortable for her than sleeping in the single bed. It was quite narrower than what half the couple’s bed was. The mattress was ok though, not as good as the one I had gotten for my bed nor as good as the one from Abby’s, but I’d certainly sleep well enough in it… assuming loneliness and lack of cuddling didn’t prove to be too distracting.

“Yes!” Mathilda cheered as I was finally taking in the bedroom, having peeked inside the bathroom. “They’ve got a bathtub installed!”

The bedroom was quite the plain affair, even my bedroom was visually more appealing. White walls, a carpet floor in a beige and brown pattern, a build in wardrobe we weren’t going to use with wooden doors, the two aforementioned beds with white sheets and covers, a big window with two sets of curtains, both beige, one that let light pass through and the other that completely blocked out the light. Curious to see why Mathilda was so excited, I moved over to look over her shoulder as she kept looking into the bathroom, her gears obviously turning.

The bathroom floor was tiled in mint green and a darker shade that matched the toilet, sink and bathtub, a curtain that seemingly couldn’t decide if it was green or blue pulled to the side being what would give us privacy during bathing in case one of us had to use the bathroom.

Erm, no, that’s not going to happen Violet.

Yeah, I’m with a friend and a classmate, not Abby. We don’t have that level of familiarity, thank goodness. Although, if Abby were to be with me… we’d be both behind the curtain, bathing together.

And that’s precisely why we are in separate rooms.

Reality is such a cruel stepmother.

“What’s up with the colour palette?” Jessy snorted, now also peaking over Mathilda’s other shoulder. “The bedroom is one thing, but whoever decorated the bathroom needs to be fired.”

“I think they might have retired already,” I told her, reminding myself of the bathroom of one of grandma’s old friends, although, in her case, the toiletries were pink instead of green and the tiles had that colour and others in pastels. “Last time I saw something like this, the owner of the bathroom was over eighty years old.”

“Retired to the ‘tablet garden’ then,” Mathilda mused. “Anyway, I’m going to see how the boys’ room is, be right back.”

In other words, she was going to make sure Stephen’s room wasn’t directly facing or surrounded by girls’ rooms, right? I didn’t think she needed to worry about it as the two of them have been acting more buddy-buddy lately. She was hugging his arm when I came back from my bathroom break at least, and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. If anything, he might have been leaning a bit towards her.

“Violet?” Jessy called out, having moved to sit on the edge of the double bed. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

I had the dreadful feeling that I already knew what was coming, so I went and sat across her as I told her to go ahead.

“I’m just curious… why aren’t you and Abby sharing a room?”

It wasn’t just curiosity in her voice, there was also a bit of hope and dread mixed in.

I took a deep breath as discreetly as possible.

“That’s because… Abby and I, we… we are dating.”

“Oh,” she said, recoiling back a little. “I see… so it is true.”

“What is?” I asked. “Rumours?”

“Yes, rumours… some say you two are dating while others say that you two are just very close friends… others say that… that you’re faking it for attention.”

“I beg your pardon!?” I asked, the offence I felt defaulting me to that pattern of speech as if I was still waiting tables.

“N-not that I believe in that!” Jessy clarified with her hands raised. “It’s just a stupid rumour told from jealous people is all!”

“…Jealous people, huh?” I hummed, my mind conjuring Vanessa’s face. If there was one person to say that kind of stuff, it’d be her. For once, I did feel hate towards her. Funny how that was what made it, not the passive-aggressive behaviour and general bad attitude.

My mind then shifted to paying attention to Jessy. She was looking undoubtedly sad by the reveal.

“…I’ sorry Jessy,” I said in a low voice, sharing in some of her pain.

“What are you sorry about?” she asked, trying to laugh.

“I mean… look, I’m terrible reading other people. Like, really bad. Still, I… I noticed, you know?”

“…It’s fine Violet, it’s just a little crush over a girl I admire. It’s not the end of the world. It wasn’t anything deeply romantic or anything. I mean, if you didn’t have Abby and asked me on a date, I’d say yes, but… I’m not quite sure that I’d be able to fall in love with you like you and Abby are, you know?”

“Actually, I don’t,” I laughed, not at her but at myself. “Outside of Abby, I have zero love experience, so—”

“No way that’ true!” Jessy cut me off, sounding awfully spirited all of a sudden. “You’re so pretty and mature! I’m sure there were boys confessing to you all the time!”

I was going to deny that, but a thought crossed over my mind from this conversation, previous ones I had with Abby, my life experience over these past two years, and my own comment about my inability to pick up cues.

“You might be right, you know? I just really suck at understanding people, so if it did ever happen, it flew right over my head.”

“See? I told you!” she said, bouncing on the bed like I hadn’t just rejected her. I mean, I really didn’t, but you get the point.

“No, erm, I’m not admitting that it has ever happened, only that it might have happened a few times, I just didn’t notice it.”

The conversation continued from there, light and cheerful, until it was time to go have lunch.

With the biggest hurdle I thought I’d face resolved in such a positive matter, I could finally enjoy my first, and likely very last, school trip.