Flowers and Pop Rocks

37

p o p p y

I spent my whole Friday afternoon trying to learn how the hell to bake oatmeal cookies because Blake told me that's what his mom liked. I figured food was a step in the right direction to getting her to like me.

My phone had an alarm set for seven thirty in the morning on Saturday so I could catch her at home before she headed off to work for the day. I learned that from Blake too. He used to tell me that he got up at eight because his mom leaving for work would wake him up.

Everyone at home was still asleep, so I made it a point to grab the cookies from the kitchen quickly and leave right away so I wouldn't make a lot of noise and wake them.

Just for the record, I didn't tell Blake about my plan. In hindsight, it was probably best that he knew, but I was scared he was going to try and stop me.

I took a deep breath once I reached Blake's house, practicing what I was going to say, before grabbing the cookies and stepping out of my car.

The front door opened just as I was reaching for the doorbell and my hand froze mid-air. I was face-to-face with a confused Mrs. Nixon.

"Oh, uh... good morning," I greeted her.

"My son's not here," she eyed me.

"Uh, yeah, I know," I told her shyly. "I just came here to give you some cookies I made. I heard that your birthday was last week, and I wanted to give you this. Blake told me you like them."

The container shook lightly as I handed it to her. "It's oatmeal cookies, no chocolate because Blake also told me you were allergic."

"Who told you that you were allowed here?" she sneered, not making a move to take my gift.

"I—Sorry, I should've asked," I apologized, cursing at myself inwardly for thinking it was a good idea to do this.

"Listen, I don't know how many times I need to tell you this. I thought my son would at least be attracted to someone smart, but clearly not. I expected you to understand the first time. You are not good for him. And the fact that he left home to be with you proves it."

"What is going on? It's eight in the morning and you're already angry?" a familiar voice joined the conversation.

I wasn't sure why the voice was familiar, but I knew I'd definitely heard it before.

"Your brother's ex is here to bug me. I was just telling her to leave," Mrs. Nixon replied. I decided to ignore her interesting word choice.

A beautiful brunette came into view, and I realized why I knew her voice. It was Brianne.

Her mouth formed into an 'o' once she saw me at the front door before she winked at me, giving me a little wave as she walked towards us. "Mom, I'm pretty sure they're not exes."

"Right," Mrs. Nixon rolled her eyes. "I meant future ex."

I wasn't going to get anywhere good with her anytime soon, was I?

"She meant girlfriend," Brianne corrected her mom, making me feel at least a little more comfortable in the awkward situation I was in.

"Um... maybe I should just leave," I pointed at my car parked in front of their house. "I came here to give the cookies, but I totally understand that I overstepped."

"No, no, no," Brianne grabbed my arm before I could take another step away. "Give them to me. My mom's just being stubborn."

I hesitated before handing her the container of cookies.