❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

twelve: well did you follow him on instagram?

"What do you mean you didn't get his number?" Emerson says as I walk into her apartment, pulling off my jacket and headband.

"I mean, he's in the taxi, I'm on the subway platform looking at the flowers he gave me," I say, sitting down on her black L-shaped couch, putting my bag and the flowers onto the glass coffee table. I grab one of the throw pillows and place it in my lap, holding it close to my chest.

"FLOWERS?" Em interjects, sitting down next to me. She places my sprawled-out legs on her lap and rests her head against the side of the couch facing me.

"Let me finish. I'm looking at the flowers and I'm like oh shit, I don't have this boy's contact information. I knew I couldn't tell you over text so that's why I'm sitting here." I finally finish.

I look around her apartment. Emerson never talks about it, but her family has money. When I say money, I mean MONEY.  Her dad is a financial lawyer, and her mom is the editor-in-chief at the New York Times. Once Emerson turned 18 last November, they bought her this penthouse in manhattan with these glass walls and almost every single beautiful feature you could think of. She can barely cook, so these days I want to get away from my family, or I have off, I'm here cooking and cleaning. It's living alone, only it's with my best friend, but I always have the option to go back home.

"Well did you follow him on instagram?" she asks.

"Of course I- Now that I think of it..." I immediately go to my phone to check Instagram. I go to the search bar but am drawing a blank.

What's his at again? I swear it's something to do with Herron.

"@imzachherron." Em says, snapping me out of my deep thinking. 

I type it into the search bar, and he immediately comes up. I follow him and look at his latest. Sheesh is all I can say. He's wearing a striped shirt with his blue guitar and throwing a peace sign at the camera. 

You can say a lot of things about Zach Herron, but him being unattractive is not one of them.

"You gonna dm him or just stare at him all day?" Emerson says, looking down at my phone.

"Yeah, yeah, shut it." I say, opening up messages.

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imzachherron

endlesssummers

I had a great time today :)

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"There, sent." a satisfactory smile on my face.

"Okay so now tell me all about the date." Emerson says, tapping my leg.

*

"EM?" I yell from the kitchen; I just finished cleaning the dishes. I decided to make pilaf with the groceries Emerson barely has. I made a mental note to go grocery shopping with her tomorrow.

"YEAH?" She yells back from down the hallway.

"CAN I STAY OVER TONIGHT?" She walks out from the hall, in front of me but a counter dividing us.

"Duh. You wanna have a sleepover in mine or stay in yours?" She says, referencing our rooms.

 When she moved here, her one requirement was that I got my own bathroom and bedroom, so whenever I wanted to stay, I could. My room would always be full of my clothes and be like I practically lived here, even though I didn't.

"I'll stay in mine, I'm gonna read tonight."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't wake up early, i'm gonna swing us some bagels so don't bother cooking," She says, looking down at her phone.

"Okay, goodnight, I love you" I state, loading up the dishwasher.

"Night, love you more."

As she disappears down the hall, I turn off the only light that illuminates the whole apartment. It fills with the darkest, and the only light you can is the New York City skyline. I might "live" here, but it still takes my breath every single time.

I walk down the hallway into my room. I never got free rein to design my room back home, so I did it here. My whole right wall is glass, looking out onto the skyline. Right next to the door is my TV and my bookshelf, all lined up with a neon sign that reads "jaded" in hot pink. My mom thought it was hilarious and bought it for me since, you know, my name's Jade, and I'm always fed up. 

In the middle of my room is my bed, Emerson always complained about my bed back home, and she decided to get me the best money I could buy. My bed is framed by all my favorite movie posters. Starting with Harry Potter and the half-blood prince, Perks of Being a Wallflower, Everything Everything, Mama Mia (a comfort movie in the Bryne-Summers's household) and right on top of my bed, Starstruck. 

I guess Zach was right. 

I smiled slightly. On my left wall is my closet. The entrance is covered in records I found or didn't want anymore as well as pictures of the people I love and me or concerts I've gone to. It gives my room more of a comfortable feel. I also have a picture of me and pops dancing framed on my bedside table. It's my favorite thing to walk up to.

As I get into bed, I try my best to read. I keep trying to stay focused on the book and the story, but all my mind can think about is Zach. Never, ever in my life have I ever thought about a boy. Much less a boy, I don't know.

But he could get to know you.

I shake my head; he doesn't need to. I'm confusing and convincing myself to like a boy who wants nothing to do with me. After tomorrow, none of this is gonna matter.

Then why do I feel like it's not?

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word count: 983; def a filler chapter

the story will start picking up very soon so bare with me

don't forget to comment & vote!

much love,

~ nish