My Flower

Chapter 9 - Dinner Dreams And Doubts

~ ~ ~ 1999

   The slam of the old truck door echoed, the finality Blossom felt about her current romantic landscape: barren, desolate, and largely of her own making. Sighing, she tugged at the hem of her purple tank top a shirt she had never reached for until after the events of last summer took place. It was September, 1999, and the air, crisp and tinged with woodsmoke, did little to lift her mood. Hunter, driving his beaten up pickup truck slightly leans over in his seat. He grins over at the blonde in the passenger seat, his easy smile a familiar comfort.

   "Ready for adventure, Blossom?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with genuine amusement that didn't quite reach the core of his concern for her.

   Blossom raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Adventure? Hunter, we're talking about a bet. Remember? 14 days of you trying to convince me love isn't a fairy tale written by delusional optimists." Her voice was laced with a cynicism she'd been cultivating for months, a protective shield built after her last dramatic breakup.

   Hunter, undeterred, reached out and turned on the radio with a few good hits. Tracks that were popular in the 60's rang loudly through the moving piece of tin. Hunter's favorite kind of music. "Precisely. And tonight, adventure starts with...well, a burger and fries."

   Blossom paused, frowning slightly. "The diner? Seriously?" She knew exactly what diner he was referring to. Blossom tried to turn down the music but to no avail. Of course the dial was broken. "Kitties," she knew the restaurant like the back of her hand. It was a local institution, a beacon of greasy spoon goodness and small-town gossip, not exactly a venue she associated with the grand romantic gestures Hunter seemed to be imagining.

"Okay, hear me out," Hunter said, pulling up to the pink and blue building. Bright signs advertising food they most certainly didn't make clung to the glass windows."It's classic, right? It's comfortable, it's familiar. It's...us. Plus," he added with a suggestive grin.

Blossom rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're incorrigible, Hunter," she muttered, as he turned off the car. Blossom went to open her own car door after adjusting her lipgloss but Hunter beat her to it.

The air was colder than she'd expected, and she hugged her arms tighter to her body. As they walked the couple steps to the diner, Blossom found herself relaxing slightly. Hunter had a way of doing that, even when he was being utterly ridiculous.

Kitties was already buzzing with the early dinner crowd. The smell of frying onions and sugary milkshakes hung in the air, a comforting, if predictable, aroma. The pink vinyl booths were occupied by a mix of families, retired farmers, and, of course, their own little cohort of high school friends. As they slid into a booth by the window, Blossom noticed that her younger brother, Ethan, was behind the counter, wiping down the stainless steel surface with a practiced ease.

"Oh great," she sighed, as Ethan caught sight of them and gave a knowing smirk. "Just what I need tonight, a front-row seat to Ethans life as the local burger slinger."

Hunter nudged her playfully. "C'mon, where's your appreciation for the hard-working man? Besides, Ethan knows all the juicy gossip."

Ethan strolled over to their booth, wiping his hands on the apron that was stained with a week's worth of spills. "Well, well, well, look who it is. The dynamic duo. What brings you lovebirds to my humble abode?"

Blossom groaned. "We're not lovebirds, Ethan. This is a calculated social experiment forced upon me by this...this romantic idealist." She gestured toward Hunter, who was barely containing his laughter.

Ethan's eyes widened, intrigued. "A social experiment, huh? Sign me up. I'll get you two the usual? Blossom, you want your usual burger with no tomatoes, and Hunter, your greasy delight with extra everything?"

Blossom and Hunter both nodded, a comfortable routine they'd fallen into over years of diner visits. As Ethan went to put in their order, Blossom looked around the diner. There was Janet at a booth with her boyfriend, making eyes as they shared a plate of onion rings. At the counter, Mrs. Henderson from down the street was reading her newspaper, sipping coffee, and probably eavesdropping on everyone else's conversations. Even though it was a place she'd seen countless times, she noticed that each familiar face was a story, each table a collection of lives intertwining under the warm glow of the fluorescent lights.

"See?" Hunter interrupted her thoughts. "Everyone here has their own version of love, or at least affection. Even your annoying little brother."

"Ethan? Love? Please hes never even had a date before." Blossom retorted defensively.

Their food arrived, and Ethan placed the plates in front of them with another knowing look. "You two be good, now. And Hunter," he said with a grin, "You break her heart I break your face."

Blossom glared at Ethan but the comment did make her smile. As they ate, several of their friends drifted over to the booth, pulling up extra chairs and sparking conversations. They talked about school, the upcoming homecoming dance, and the latest town gossip. Blossom found herself laughing, genuinely laughing, at Hunter's ridiculous jokes and Janet's dramatic retelling of her latest run-in with their English teacher.

For a moment, the cloud of cynicism that had been hanging over her seemed to lift. It was comfortable, this easy camaraderie, the shared history and inside jokes. She looked at Hunter, who was leaning back in his seat, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness, and a faint warmth bloomed in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as hopeless as she thought.

But then, as quickly as it came, the warmth faded. It wasn't love, she told herself firmly. It was just the familiarity of friendship, the comfort of routine. It was a good time, a fun night, but nothing more, and certainly nothing to do with love.

Hunter, sensing her shift in mood, leaned closer. "So," he said softly, "how's the experiment going? Are you feeling any...sparks?"

Blossom sighed, picking at her fries. "Hunter, it's nice, it's fun, but let's not pretend this is a scene from a movie. It's Friday night at Kitties. I had a burger, hung out with friends, and my brother made a joke about my dating life. I enjoyed it, sure, but love? Please."

Hunter didn't press further. He knew that pushing would only make her retreat further into her shell. "Okay," he said, his voice remaining light. "No sparks. Not yet. But we still have 13 more days, right?"

Blossom leaned back, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes, we do. And I fully intend to enjoy the free meals."

They fell into comfortable silence, the low hum of the diner a reassuring backdrop to their conversation, or lack thereof. As they left, the cool night air nipped at their faces. Blossom looked up at the stars, a million pinpricks of light in a vast, indifferent universe. She was still resolute in her belief that love was an illusion, a cruel trick played on the vulnerable. But, as she walked beside Hunter, a tiny seed of doubt had been planted. A seed that, perhaps, even she couldn't control. Fourteen days was a long time, and Hunter was nothing, if not persistent. And maybe, that was the most dangerous thing of all.