Heather Oakley Beltran an innocent Christian girl, the most purest and Holden Parker a quiet and serious boy who's completely lost and hurt by his past.
How can two such different souls learn to love one another?
Sometimes all God does is let two c...
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My roses were dying.
I didn't know what exactly had gone wrong with them. Not once did I forget to water them, so I was very confused as to what made them die. They were getting brown, and almost half of the roses were facing down. Dead. The soil didn't look healthy either. My final guess was that I had overwatered them yesterday morning or one of the past few days.
With a hand on my forehead, I placed the water can down and kneeled to take a better look at the flowers and soil. Just by the closer glance I got of them, I knew they were done for. Way too done for. "Great," I sighed, feeling defeated. No chance were these gonna be able to get saved. My heart broke at the thought. The only time this had happened to me was when I was like ten years old, and it was just once. One time. Now it was twice from the looks of it.
"They are dead," A familiar voice from behind me said, matter-of-factly when I reached over to touch the flowers in which a pedal immediately came off.
Turning around, there Holden stood with his hands in his pockets. The simple sight of him made my stomach fill with annoying flutters. "Yeah, I could see that," I said, turning back around to watch the dead roses. It would be about time that the healthy-looking flowers would also look dead because of the soil, so there was no point in keeping those either.
When I remained seated for a little while longer, gazing at my roses sadly, I heard the silent steps of Holden's get closer. Not a second later, I see an outstretched hand in my peripheral vision. A silent action that said it was ok. Right away, I took his hand and stood up with the help of his big hand tug. It was of no use feeling down over the roses anyway. I could always plant new ones. It would just take some time.
But then they were my flowers, my safe place and now they were dead.
"Roses?" Holden continued holding my hand.
"Yeah," I answered, shaking away the dirt left on my jeans. When I had removed every single piece of dirt and grass stuck on my jeans, I finally looked up toward Holden, who was already watching me.
"Just roses?" He continued, keeping his gaze on mine, and then shifted his eyes toward the flowers over my shoulder.
"Yes, just roses. Why?" I retorted, placing both hands in my hips. In a teasing manner, of course.
He remained strangely silent, looking from the plant bed to me. "You really loved those flowers, didn't you?" he asked, amused watching me as I gave him a look. An annoyed look at that, considering his mouth was lifting into a slow and chaffy grin.
I pushed his shoulder in playfulness and then walked past him. "Ok, then. I'll be making fun of how much you love those books you read all too much, since you want to go ahead and laugh about my dying flowers." I argued, grabbing my backpack from the porch, and then walked toward him, where he still stood, deeply entertained by my remark.
