❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

fifty-five: it's weird (and unbelievably boring).

I groan, opening the door to Nate's apartment. I drop my bag, plopping myself on his couch. It's been a month or so since I've really hung out with anyone other than Nate. It's to the point where even Emerson is drifting. It's been hard on our friendship, this drift. But stuff had finally started to feel normal again between Nate and me, like before I ever started talking to the boys. But it's weird (and unbelievably boring) not spending a weekend with the guys or even seeing their text messages from the rest of the group. I got a few calls from them initially, but I guess they got the hint about wanting them to leave me alone—I kind of wish they didn't.

"Hey babe," Nate says, walking in from the bedroom and kissing my cheek. He walks to the kitchen opening the fridge. He starts pulling out various fruits, stuff that I didn't know he liked.

"Hey, when'd you get home?" I say, sitting upright. I pull my hair back, tying it in a bun. I pull some strands out to help frame my face as I wait for him to answer.

He starts opening cabinets, searching for something. "Probably about two hours ago. We don't have practice till later and my class got out so I came here. I didn't know when you were coming home or I would have come and picked you up."

I nod, "It's okay. I needed the walk anyway but how was your day?"

"It was good, pretty laid back. Practice is going to be hardcore." He says, still scanning the kitchen.

"Do you need help finding something?" I ask, on the verge of getting up to help him. Before I can, my phone starts ringing.

Incoming call from Jonah!...

"Are you going to pick that up?" Nate asks, looking over at me. He gestures to the phone, unknowing of the caller ID.

"I don't think so." I say, looking at my phone and then putting it down. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

"I'm alright. Just struggling to make a smoothie." Just as he says that a sound comes from the bedroom. It sounds like running water, maybe the sink or shower. He stays stunned for a second but then slaps his forehead. "Shit, I left the TV on."

"That sounded a lot louder than the TV. It sounds like it's in the house." I say, getting up to walk to the room.

"I swear, I was watching Survivor so it must just be a water scene." He says, closing a cabinet. 

"Okay," I nod, trusting him. As he walks into the bedroom, I look down at my phone again.

3 new messages from Jonah!

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Jonah!

Hey, I know we haven't talked in a while

But I just wanted to show you that I took Wes to the beach

He's using his knowledge of the underwater world to good use

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I smile faintly at the text message. Throughout this whole month, the boys have sent me small messages like this. Zach the most; he texts me every day. He'll send me a picture whenever he sees flowers or a bookstore, even a coffee place, just something that reminds him of me. I want so badly to reply to the messages with "oh how pretty" or even "i miss you," but here, the text sits blank.