The Coincidence 03 The Destiny of Violet and Luke ARC by Jessica Sorensen Page B

he leaves.
    I make it five amazing, dignified steps before my knees give out on me. Then Luke steals all the dignity I have left as he rushes forward and catches me in his sturdy arms. Even though it would have hurt worse, I would have rather face-planted into the grass and injured myself, then let my pride be wounded like it is now.
    “What are you doing?” My flip flop scrapes against the grass as I endeavor to get my feet back under me. “I said I got it.”
    “Sorry, but you obviously don’t,” he replies simply, tucking his arms underneath mine he helps me to my feet.
    I consider shoving him as one of his hands slides down my side and to my waist, but then I realize he’s doing it to support my weight. I’m not sure what to do. I don’t ask for help with anything—I’m not that weak anymore—but technically I’m not asking Luke for help right now. He’s just doing it on his own, which isn’t the same. At least that’s what I tell myself to make this situation feel better. Besides, he’s become a very good distraction from the emotions stirring in my chest before he showed up. I’m starting to settle down, calming on the inside. No one’s ever done this to me before, except for maybe Preston and his ex-wife and my ex-foster mother, Kelley, and those instants were few and far between.
    “Now are you going to let me help you back to your dorm or not?” His fingers gently press into my side.
    I dither, then place my hand on his shoulder so I can lift more weight off my foot. “No, but I’ll let you help me to class.” I catch a hint of his scent; cologne mixed with soap and a splash of tequila.
    He gapes at me. “You need to stay off your foot.”
    “No, I need to go to class,” I argue, then hold my breath because the scent of his cologne is delicious. “It’s important.”
    “Why? It’s just one class.”
    “Because I don’t miss class. Ever.”
    He searches my eyes for God knows what, a sign of sanity maybe, but then he gives up and nods. “All right Violet…” He waits for me to give him my last name, but I only shake my head. I don’t like saying my real last name because then I remember that I’m the only living person left carrying it. I could use my made-up one, but I don’t like giving that one out either since it seems like I’m giving someone an open invitation to know me. “Okay, then Violet with no last name. Let’s get you to class.”
    Then for the first time in thirteen years, someone actually helps me. And the odd thing is he willingly does it.
    Luke
    I help Violet to class, bearing as much of her weight as she’ll let me, but she seems pretty dead set on letting me help her as little as possible and keeps putting weight on her ankle. It looks like shit, purple and blue, swollen up so big she couldn’t even get a shoe on and I seriously just want to pick her up so she won’t put any weight on it at all, plus I’ll be able to move at my pace not hers. But I can tell there’s no way she’ll let me and honestly, I’m not that chivalrous. If I was acting like my normal self I’d have left her out under the tree.
    It was a complete fluke that I crossed paths with her. I’d taken one too many shots of tequila this morning and my head was too foggy for me to drive to the university. So I had to walk and just happened to pass by when Violet was leaning against the tree. She looked like she was struggling and all I could think about was her falling out the window… my sister Amy jumping off the roof… suddenly I was walking over to her.
    We end up being late and she’s upset about it. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would care so much about being on a schedule or getting good grades, but neither do I. My need to control my life, my grades, is an obsessive habit I developed early on to fight the constant loss of control that always surrounded me when I was at home. I wonder what her reasons are.
    I don’t sit by her in class, not just because I