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This is a story about forgiveness and moving forward into the future. |
[Introduction]
My green banana seat bike seems to be my only escape from that apartment. School doesn’t count. I feel like I’m cornered all the time. Something is always waiting to pounce on me, and my nerves never calm, only pulling at the strings of my heart. When I feel the breeze lifting away the bangs that stuck out of my loose pony tail, that’s when I only felt relief. This time I wasn’t going out just because though. I needed to run an errand for them. She had asked me. I didn’t protest because then I’d have to talk to her more than I needed to. Down town this time of day is blissfully busy. I’m the only on riding a bike though. The buildings begin to be pushed together, and cars are moaning by. I lift my flip flops up from the pedals cruising. It feels good. The air feels fresh when I’m not breathing in the exhaust from a car. I slow down when I realize I’m close to the corner. She told me it was on this block, so I look for a sign for a florist. I ease backwards on the pedals when I near a small building with a rot iron baroque pattern around a wooden sign. “Laura’s Flowers” There are clean glass windows displaying spring flowers in large pots. There’s a sale sign. I park my bike against the flower beds outside. I trust that there’s only good people in this town and don’t lock it up. A bell above the door rings as I push it open. I pull the sleeves up from my green hoodie and bring out the receipt for a flower arrangement for my sister. I lift my lead and I immediately smell the fragrance of the small shop, dense with plants and colors. The floors are hard wood, and the walls, where I could see walls, are salmon pink. I approach the counter and notice someone behind it, bent over, shuffling with a box. I heard a muttered ‘welcome’ from a familiar voice I couldn’t place. The body stood straight, and turned his head toward me. “Ah.” We both said. “It’s you.” I jumped a bit, not expecting him to remember who I was. “Hey.” “Hey.” I watch his lips part. His voice is smooth. The Bookstore Guy. He’s tall with lean muscles. His facial features are a bit feminine. He has thick black hair that’s waved in some strands and straight in others. He has thick black eyelashes, and those blue eyes only princes have. He’s also wearing a pink apron. I start to smile. “Nice uniform.” I say. His eyes glance down and he straightens slightly. “Yeah, it’s sort of required.” He then looks up at me, quietly taking the joke. “I didn’t think you’d be the type of person to work here.” I look to a pot of Daisies on my right. “Are you alone?” “It’s my Uncles shop. I’m helping him out while he’s out of town. And,” He shrugs. “He pays me well.” “Oh. I see.” I say while my fingers lay on the smooth counter. “but it’s pretty good, being next to our bookstore and all.” I suddenly blush when I heard myself say ‘our’. I duck my head a bit. “Yeah.” He says. But it’s not judging. I calm myself. My eyes are still drinking in all the colors around me. I’m tempted to smell my favorites. I guess there was a silence because then he says: “Did you come here for something?” My head snaps back to him. The way he said it stings my heart a little. I look up and it seems he caught that tone too because he looks apologetic. We secretly understand each other, and I feel better. “Uh, yeah.” I pass him the receipt. “My sister came in here the other day for a bouquet arrangement. Is it ready?” He reads the slip of paper and nods. “Just a second…” He escapes behind a curtained door way and reappears with a lovely vase of bright flowers. He sets it down. It looks well done. There’s a big ribbon tied around the vase. “Wow,” I say and lean in to smell a flower. “Mm.” “You like carnations?” He asks gently this time. “Yeah.” My eyes move up to him. “They’re my favorite.” “Mine too.” He admits like it’s a bad thing. I straighten and keep my eyes on him. “So you’re one of those sensitive types all the girls like?” He moves his eyes away and rubs his neck with his hand. “Who knows.” I can tell he’s embarrassed. I laugh a bit. He blinks at me, as if thinking deeply about something. Once again I don’t realize that there was a long pause. Maybe because I’m so comfortable with him. I realize then that I really don’t want to return to that apartment with those people. “Do you,” He says quietly. “Not want to go home?” My weak smile fades because I know he read my mind. I can’t say anything. I kind of go blank. My mouth opens a bit but I only close it. “I’ll show you the back,” He says. I glance up when I hear his voice. It’s soothing. Calming. For the first time someone covers for me. I don’t have to fend for myself in this small way. “if you want.” “Yeah,” I say hopefully. “Yeah, that’d be great.” He nods, blinking those lashes. I feel something burst in my heart. I feel something for him. I take quick steps around the counter and follow him through the curtain. I am revealed then a small workshop with barrels of fresh flowers. There are two long metal tables on the sides of the room and beyond shelves of flowers, vases, ribbons and cards. Flowers lay on the metal table and leaves and stems clutter the work space. “This is what I’m working on right now.” “Wow, so you put together my sister’s vase?” I stand next to him and peer into an empty clear blue vase. “Pretty much.” He says and starts to work, cutting the ends of stems with a shiny pair of sharp scissors. I sit in a folding chair next to where he is. I set my chin on the cool table. “That’s impressive.” “Thanks,” He says. But he doesn’t think so. I notice as he’s working with the flowers that his hands have tiny cuts across come places. I guessed that it was from the thorns of many plants. “Do you like this work?” He adjusts a bright pink rose carefully in the vase. “It’s calming.” I watch him work. The only noise is from his movements and the snipping of the scissors. “You don’t talk much.” I say. I see him smirk a bit. “It’s a pain.” He says. “But if there’s something important to say,” he puts a sprig of a long plant budded with tiny white blooms in the vase. “I’ll say it.” “Hm.” I pinch a fallen petal between my fingers. “Maybe more people should be like you.” He smiles a bit and I’m filled with warmth. “Maybe.” I’m there for a few hours. We talk about small things, quietly joking, smirking, silently enjoying a time where we are care free. I must have fallen asleep for a bit because my eyes slowly open to him gently nudging me, my cheek on the cool metal table. I sit up and wonder when I dozed off. “It’s getting late,” He says. The bouquet he was working on is finished. “Will your family be worried?” He frowns a bit. I know it’s because he doesn’t know my story, or even if I have a family. He’s that kind because he knows about that kind of thing. I can tell. He’s so much deeper than other people. “Sorry I kept you here this long but…” I gaze at him. “I mean, you looked really peaceful so I,” I blink. “Well, It looked like you wanted to be here but,” I continue to just stare at him. He crosses his brow and frowns, face coloring. “D-Don’t make me keep rambling.” He leans forward a bit. I couldn’t help myself anymore. I start to grin and laugh from my heart for a long time. My shoulders tremble and I hunch, reaching for my mouth. “S-Sorry! Haha! You were just talking so… I guess I wanted to listen.” I stop and realize him staring at me. “Your smile,” He says. “It’s nice. You should smile more often.” Is all he says, looking into my eyes. My heart warms and my cheeks color. I pull my fingers under my palms on my lap and gaze down. “Thank you…” I stand slowly and he leads me out of the room. The flower shops lights are off, and the town outside has gotten dark early. “Are you going home?” I ask as I listen to the stillness. “My rooms upstairs.” “Oh.” I say back. I wonder then. His uncle is gone so that means, “So you’ve been living here alone?” My eyes feel dry. “For a while.” He’s walking more slowly. “Oh.” I say again. “Are you okay…” I have a low voice. I stop walking and turn to him. “Are you okay with being alone?” He’s a bit taken a back, and slowly lowers his head. “I’ve actually,” He smiles a sad smile. “I’ve always wanted someone to ask me that, you know?” I gaze at him, there, still, in the dark. The fragrance of bursts of flowers make my senses dull. “Yeah.” I say. Because I know. Because I know what it’s like to feel alone. “I know.” I look up at his face. We’re beneath the window of the entrance. He’s illuminated in more ways than one. I realize I want to touch him and hold him, yet I’m still. “As long as you come around,” He says, eyes cast down. “As long as you come around, I’m alright. I’ll keep going to the book shop,” He looks over to me. Our eyes meet. “If you keep coming here.” I take in the moment. Slowly, I let time ease away. “Yeah,” I say. “I will, definitely.” We both realize it’s time for me to go, but we are both still. I wonder what I should say, when in the corner of my eye I see him hold up something for me in his gentle hands. I look and see he’s holding a fragile white flower. The green stem is bent, and the white blossom that resembles a dress skirt droops sleepily. It’s a flower that any person would pass over, unnoticed. “It’s Lily of the Valley.” He says, his words clear. And so are his blue eyes. I drink in its glowing color before I reach out to take it gently. “Thank you.” “Do you know the language of the flowers?” I lift the blossom up to smell a faint scent. “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much.” He nods, looking a bit distant. After a few moment of silence, when I know we don’t have anything else to say, we open the door and walk to the street. “Will you be okay, heading home by yourself?” He asks. I nod and move my bike to the side walk. The sky tells me it really is late. I wish I didn’t have to go back to that apartment where I’ll probably hear a useless earful from her. I lift my leg over to the other side and look back to him. He’s standing there, hands in pockets, eyes a bit worried, ready to see me off. I feel so much care for him that I might burst. “Hey,” I say. “What’s your name?” He blinks, like he forgot that that information was important. The wind softly blew through the sleepy streets. As he told me, I smelled the flowers from in the shop, even from the outside. “June.” He says. The window from the apartment is lit with light. I park my bike at the rack and lock it up, taking my time. I then look up to the door I’ll have to go through. Is that really my home? I won’t be here for long, I promise myself as I walk to the stairs. When I turn eighteen I’ll be out of here. I’m halfway up and already the high of energy that was with me when I was with him, June, is being stripped from me. I put my hand on the door knob, turn it, it’s unlocked, and push it in, stepping into the apartment. I don’t see anyone in the room from where I am, so I’m a bit relieved. I kick off my flip flops and bend to put them in line with the others. I stand, and there’s a sudden form right there. I jump when I see my sister standing stiff with crossed arms and pursed lips. I open my mouth to explain but she beats me to it. “Do know what time it is?” Her voice is tight. “It’s not that late.” I say a bit dully. I don’t have the patience for this. “It is when you set off at three o clock!” She snaps. “I just asked you to pick up some flowers. I don’t ask you for much around here. Justin and I do all the chores while you mope around in your room all evening,” I sigh. “And the one time I ask you to do something, one little thing you come back at eight and think everything’s fine?” “No, Beth,” I release a breath. “I just ended up doing some other things.” “For five hours!?” “No, Beth!” I groan. “I met up with a friend!” “Oh, yeah, uh huh? So then, where’s the bouquet?” “What?” “Where, is, the bouquet I sent you to get!?” “I have it, it’s—!” I look down at my hands. They’re all but empty except for my gift from June. “Oh,” I put my hand on my forehead. “Oh gosh, I left it there, I’m sorry.” “What is this? Some kind of joke to you?” She grabs the flower out of my hands. “I ask you for a bouquet and you come back hours later with nothing to show?” Anger flares in my eyes. “Justin and I work to the bone to make you happy and you still are bitter over the little crush you had on him!” My jaw drops. I’m in disbelief. I’m about to scream. I’m about to cry. I’m about to do anything, but I am frozen. “Beth,” Justin appears. I look up. Beside her with his hand on her shoulder he says, “She said she met up with a friend, of course she got distracted.” He looks at her and then to me. I quickly avert my eyes blushing angrily. “We can always go get it tomorrow. It’s still going to take some time for her to get used to this, and us too. There’ve been a lot of changes.” His eyes are honestly in concern, and the fact that he’s trying to be nice makes me itch. Is this how he’s trying to get on my good side? Beth seems calmer now. She stares the wall beside her biting her lip. Just takes the flower and offers it too me. I take it quickly and move to the room I have to stay in. I lay on my bed and cry quietly, hatefully, cradling the Lily of the Valley tightly to my chest. It’s only till late that night when I sneak out of my cage to open the lid of their laptop. I search ‘The Language of the Flowers’. In minutes I find Lily of the Valley. My tears make my swollen eyes sticky as I read what it means. “Happiness Will Return.” I close the door of the silver car and drop my back pack on the floor. Justin’s driving me to school now, though I insist I can ride my bike. He tells me that it’s too far away. The way he tries to be so nice… I can’t stand it. We arrive on the road, with both hands on the steering wheel. He keeps glancing at me, but I keep my gaze down. Being with him alone in this enclosed space makes my breath short. I don’t know what to do, so I stay quiet. “You’re awful quiet these days,” He scratches his head. “I thought I remember you being bubbly.” I don’t know how to answer. “So, how is high school these days? Still suck?” He talks as if he’s mature. He was only out of high school a few years earlier, so how can he talk like he knows everything? “Yeah, pretty much.” I mutter quietly. There’s a long silence. Justin isn’t happy with it. “Hey, about last night,” I tense. He notices. “Um, you shouldn’t worry about it. Beth and I got in a little argument before you came home so she was left in a bad mood. It’s no big deal, we’re not mad at you.” His eyes glance from me to the road. I nod my head. “So, who was this friend? It’s great that you made a new friend after having to move away.” I wonder why he has to ask these questions. “At the coffee shop.” I say quietly. “I met someone there, and I ran into them when I went to pick up the flowers.” “Oh,” He says with faked interest. “You really do like that coffee shop don’t you?” “I do.” I say. I want us to get to school fast. There’s another silence. He wants to say something, I dread it. He finally turns his head to me when we get to a stop light. “I know you’ve been going through a lot lately. You’ve had so many changes you’ve had to adjust to… I just want to say that I want to be here for you, and that I care about you, Milly.” My stomach twists and my eyes widen slightly. “Beth and I want to do anything we can for you to make you happy.” He adds in a lower voice. “I know that it’s hard for you, but if we all work together, I’m sure we can be happy together.” “This is my stop.” I say. Justin jerks when he realizes he’s missing the turn to the school and we pull in with much struggle. When the car stops I open the door and put on my heavy back pack, making the weight on my shoulders even heavier. “Um, think about what I said!” He says quickly as I’m about to leave. I turn to him and nod, closing the door of the car. In this situation, I know I’m the wrong one. I’m the one who seems like the bad person. And it’s probably true. Justin pulls away regretfully as I turn my back on him. |
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