❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

twenty-eight: i hate your boyfriend, i'm drunk and you're warm.

I walk outside to be greeted by cool air. While California itself isn't necessarily cold, LA parties get hot. The air inside them is so dense and filled with smoke that I can cut it with a knife. I walk up to the cooler, popping the lid open, grabbing two cans out of the ice.

"Kira? Is that you?" I turn around to see Nate. The sight of him causes me to sober up.

Whoah.

It's only been 3 weeks, but he looks so different. His hair is longer, he has deeper eye bags, even the way he carries himself, all different. He's wearing a cowboy hat and a badge of some sort. I think he's supposed to be a sheriff, but it's so half-assed that he could just say he's a country boy, and that'd work too.

I grab onto the cold cans for some sort of support, letting the condensation drip down my fingers, "What are you doing here?" I ask, trying my best to sound emotionless.

"I came to see you. You look beautiful by the way. What are you? Some sort of skeleton?" he softly asks.

After 3 weeks, no sort of communication. This is what Nate has to say to me, asking if I'm a skeleton.

"Yeah, um," I clear my throat, "the group and I all wanted to match."

"The group?" he asks. "I haven't seen Isa yet." he says, looking around.

"Not Isa." I bluntly say. "The why don't we boys and Emerson. We are all matching."

"Oh. I didn't know you were still friends with those boyband wannabes-"

I slightly cut him off, "You know you're on one of their properties right. Like he owns this." I say, gesturing to the house, annoyance evident in my tone.

"Sorry, didn't mean it like that." he says, holding up his hands. "Happy late 3 months by the way. I got your voicemail."

I drop the cans. I hear them clash with the floor; one might have even opened.

"You've been getting my voicemails?"

"Yeah but I just-"

"Please leave." my eyes tear up.

I kept making excuses; Oh, his phone is broken, oh his voicemail is full, oh it didn't go through. But all this time, he was listening to me cry to him every night about how I missed him. How my day went and how I wish he was a part of it. How bad a test went, and I just wanted to see him. I sounded so desperate for a boy who simply listened and did nothing, For 3 whole weeks.

"Baby, I didn't-" He reaches out.

"Please leave the party, Nathan." my eyes are streaming. I try my best to blink away the tears, but they keep coming.

He retracts his hand, "Fine, whatever, be that way. I'll call you tomorrow when you're done being overdramatic." he walks away, inhaling a deep breath.

I run inside, trying to find someone. Where are my friends when you need them? Daniel or Emerson aren't on the dance floor anymore. I scan the whole crowd looking for Jonah, Corbyn, and Jack, anyone. My eyes start burning because of how hard I'm crying.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, "Hey Kir..." I turn around to look at them. My tears blur together with their faces, but I recognize his voice, "Zach."