No matter how much she runs, Laura is stuck in an endless loop of her past. With a transfer of school and a curly-haired boy who seems to be wherever she goes, it's a matter of time she realizes that her universe ceases at the sight of him-and runni...
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HE DESERVED FLOWERS, so I bought him some.
Over the course of last week, I had called anybody who had the slightest of connections to him—and who was also at arm's length for me, of course—for the sole purpose of what I liked to call birthday research.
Evelyn had told me he liked white roses, which resulted in the bouquet sitting beside me. Previously chocolate, I'd changed the cake flavor to butterscotch, his favourite. I was still so nervous about the gifts I'd gotten him: vinyl records of two of his favourite albums, three books he'd been intrigued by the last time we went to the library, a black knitted turtleneck sweater.
The sweater was an impulsive buy, one I was dreading the most. At the moment it had felt like something I needed to gift him simply because I knew how good it would look on him, but now it made me feel embarrassed because what brands did rich people even wear? Whatever that was, this was certainly not it.
I visited Maria while she worked her shift at Louisa's Diner, and my eyes had widened realizing how they'd still not removed the photo booth pictures alongside the messages customers had left. Heart hammering in my chest, my eyes stumbled upon Evan and I, and then proceeded to drop to the bottom of the polaroid.
It was forgotten to me how I hadn't gotten a chance to see what was written on it until then. In a messy slant, the words read: you look beautiful in lavender.
Maria had laughed at my attempts to not act flustered.
I was wearing a dress the same exact colour today, but knowingly.
Perhaps hoping he would like this gift best.
When I parked Dad's car outside and attempted to balance everything I'd brought on two hands, Evan had already spotted me from the entryway. I focused on his expressions first—how he scrunched his nose whilst watching me struggle, and how he'd jogged to me and taken half the things in his hands, lips twisting in a frown.
It was only when we had stacked everything on the counter table near the doorway of his mansion did I throw my arms over his shoulders, making him topple before he found foothold.
"Happy birthday!" I said with a breathless laugh. His hold was just as comforting as I remembered, and I fought the urge to stay like we were, chests pressed like opposing magnets finally sticking to place.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered into my hair. He was still processing that I'd shown up within ten minutes of my last text. In my defense, I was born ready.
At least today.
I snapped back into my senses, pulling away and pushing the bouquet towards him.
His eyes widened. "You got me flowers?"
"I never knew you liked white roses," I prodded with a smile.
"Oh." He narrowed his eyes, hands clasping around the plastic wrapping. "I'm guessing Evelyn told you that."
