Here Comes the Sun

04 | space oddity

        ON SOME DAYS, THE GREENHOUSE always looks like something straight out of those old fantasy books, or at least to me, it does. When springtime comes around, you walk into a fairy tale.

        Fresh vines crept alongside the walls to the roof, nearly covering the skylight yet leaving enough sunlight to peek through. There's an earthy smell that gives life to it other than the worms and bugs who seemed to make themselves well acquainted with the damp soil. Flowers that vary in colors of red, pink, purple, and a small hint of white into the mix are sectioned near the corner in the back. And all they're missing is a fountain and you can call this place magical.

        Then again, with how some of the plants are contained in water-filled labeled jars; it's like one of those laboratories for mad scientists.

        I've imagined the mushrooms that the people in the university's botany club would've been gone by now-there were countless incidents of "squirrels" sneaking into the greenhouse to feast. But I don't think anyone's going to buy that story.

        My professor, Mr. Wheatley, is sort of a fanatic when it comes to teaching the world about plants. He even has his whole classroom decorated with flowers and goes as far as to start his class off with a botany-related joke that hardly anyone ever laughs at. He's probably one of the sweetest teachers I've ever had and I will miss him when this semester ends. When I finally leave Arcadia behind ... for good.

        Our class usually visits the greenhouse, preferably on Thursdays, to participate in these elementary-aged lab activities (more like high school) and sometimes check in on the new flowers. Mr. Wheatley instructs us to find a partner, pick a station with the jars, and write down what's happening in our notebooks.

        This morning, I was debating with myself if I should put on a brave face and come to school but after my abrupt panic attack from last night, I just don't want to talk to anyone at the moment - except for Laurie, of course. Well, once she has her head out of the clouds and stops talking about Brian.

        For now, being here in the greenhouse is all the distraction that I need. Maybe this and the party at Veronica's.

        An hour later, class is over and I wish that I could stay here forever. I gather my stuff and wait patiently by the door as the students try to squeeze through each other. It's quite dumb honestly but I'm not going to be the one to judge them.

        "Miss Quinn, do you mind staying for a little bit?" Mr. Wheatley asks before he loudly clears his throat.

        I turn to him and think of putting on my best smile or at least try to act like everything is fine. "Yes sir."

        "Thank you. Don't worry, this won't take long," he points out and takes off his bifocals. "Listen, I don't mean to pry into personal business of any sort but you know that I care about you as I do for all of my students."

        "Yes?" I look at the ground and then back at him before folding my arms.

        "Well, since the beginning of the semester, you've been out of it sometimes, especially during the lab activities."

        "I'm just tired, that's all," I lie and I instantly feel a punch in the gut. "In any case, if you're going to recommend that I see a counselor, I'm way ahead of you, Mr. Wheatley."

        I hate lying but the last thing I need right now is to feel like I'm seeking attention. But by the time when I do press charges and present my case to court, people will start to think that. I know it.

        "Oh, then I guess that's good to know. Just know that my door is always open if you ever want to talk," he advises and I nod.

        "Thank you, Mr. Wheatley," I say before I leave the greenhouse.