❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

fourteen and a half.

I walk into Em's apartment & I see her and Isabella splayed onto the couch watching the O.C.. After finding out I got into USC, Isa did too. Over the past few months, her, I and Emerson have spent every single day together until we all move across the country together.

"How does it feel to be 18 for a whole day?" Em asks me, laying the blanket over all 3 of us.

"Honestly, not much different. I do have to go to the bank to renew my "trust fund" " I reply staring at the screen.

"Then how does it make you feel that in 38 days, we will officially be attending school in LA?" Isa says looking at me.

"Wait but I thought you start August 23?" Emerson asks.

"We are, do the math Em." I laugh.

"Oh." she replies, all 3 of us look at each other laughing. 

The next four years are filled with just this. I physically can't wait.

*

As Emerson and I walk up to the bank, she grabs my hand.

"Are you sure you're ready?" she says squeezing it

"As ready as I'll ever be." I say squeezing back. We walk into the air conditioned building to see multiple people working and clicking away at their laptops. These are big girl things to do and I need to do them. Standing in line, I look around to see no one my age. It's Emerson and I grouped with people significantly older than us.

"I can help you here ma'am." A lady with a thick black bob cut says from behind her screen.

"Hi, I'm here to reopen an account my father left me when he passed. I have his will and all my information here." I say passing her a white paper full of information. She says looking back up at me, smiling.

"You're Izad's daughter?"

"I am, you knew my dad?" I say, slightly confused on how she knew Pops.

"Yes, he used to come in often. Adding money to both you and your brother's accounts, a very loving and funny man." 

I smile at the thought. "I agree." Emerson takes this time to give my hand another squeeze. The lady continues to click away but stops for a quick second. "Your account is ready but your father left you a note, would you like to read it?"

"I would love to." I reply almost immediately.

"I will be right back."

Almost 5 minutes pass, she returns with a white envelope stuck in her hand. "Apologize for the delay, they were verifying your letter. Here you go." she says, handing me the paper. This is the last tangible thing my dad ever gave me and here I am, holding it in my hand. I look to Emerson who nods, showing she's here. I open the letter, holding my breath.

"Hello my sweetest love,

I started this account for you when Keagan turned one because I realized you need money to start your lives. The money in this account might surprise you and don't worry, your mother knows. It's money I had saved from Persia and saved money from every paycheck. ALL OF THIS IS YOUR MONEY, IT'S FOR YOU. Don't tell Keagan just yet, I want him to be able to read my letter. I don't know if I am still around or if you are reading this after I am gone, but I love you. I hope you use this money responsibly. One day, I hope you grow to be  manhattan's elite and buy the perfect house for your mother and I. Although you are not my blood, you are my heart, my sweetest love.

Happy Birthday Kira,

Pops because you couldn't pronounce Baba."

The tears pour out of my eyes. Ma and him tried for years to get me to be able to pronounce B's correctly but I never could. One day, He heard on TV, instead of calling people dad, they'd say Pops. He told my mom that I could call him that because it wasn't common but it was also something I could pronounce. From that day on, both Keagan and I only referred to him as Pops.

"Ma'am I'm sorry for your loss. But, would you like to see your account?" the lady asks from behind the desk. I quickly wipe my eyes and blink a few times cleaning my eyes.

"Yes, of course." I say. She turns her screen towards me so I can see the balance. My eyes nearly pop out of my head. 

This cannot be the right account.

"Excuse ma'am, I think you are showing me the wrong account." I say rubbing my eyes.

"Izad said you might say that." She says with a smile. "It's your account."

100,000 dollars

It's written in bold block letters with my account information in the top right corner. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I have 100 thousand dollars to my name. I can pay my way through USC. 

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word count: 832

I had to split this chapter into two parts or it would get too confusing so you get half 

don't forget to comment & vote!

much love

~ nish