My Flower

Chapter 40 - His Hidden Garden

~ ~ ~ 1999

The air crackled with a pre-storm energy, a fitting prelude to the celestial spectacle expected that evening. The meteor shower was all anyone in Westmount could talk about, a rare event that had businesses closing early, urging families and lovers alike to bundle up and watch the heavens ignite. For Blossom, however, the day felt more like a slow burn than a radiant glow. Art club had been cancelled because of the impending cosmic fireworks coming up tomorrow which meant she went straight home after school.

Stepping off the school grounds, Blossom watched the buses lumber to life, kids spilling onto the steps, eager for the evening's show. Her eyes lingered on one in particular, the black and yellow of Bus 12. Hunter sat by a window on the driver's side, his head slightly turned as he scanned the parking lot. When his gaze met hers, a wide smile split his face and his hand rose in a casual wave. A response came naturally, her own hand lifting and mirroring his as a small smile tugged at her mouth. The sight of him on the bus was a reminder of his unreliable truck, a vehicle that seemed to spend more time in the shop than on the road. She knew he was saving up to fix it but it was a slow process, especially when he often used his money to buy her things.

She quickly shifted her eyes away from Hunter and his bus, a subtle blush warming her cheeks. Blossom pushed the thoughts out of her head, focusing on the task of getting home, getting her weekend homework done and spending her night painting something that didn't look like her best friend.

Entering her house and briefly chatting with her parents, she then climbed the stairs to her room, the quiet hum of the house a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the school day. Her desk was cluttered with textbooks, papers, and half-finished sketches. It was hard to focus, her mind drifting back to that fleeting moment in the parking lot, to Hunter's smile. She pushed her books aside, opening the window to let her mind clear to the cool air. The scent of rain on the horizon drifted in on a gentle breeze. The storm felt far off and she didn't think much of it.

She had barely sat back down when a sudden gust of wind slammed into her room, rattling the frames on her wall and sending her dried floral arrangements tumbling to the ground. They fell alongside the other nicknacks she kept on her windowsill, each one a small piece of her history with Hunter. A small, smooth stone he'd found on the beach two summers past had "B+H" etched into it in black paint pen. She also had a small ceramic ladybug she had gotten from a carnival, Hunter had won it for her after spending about $20 on the ring toss. The most cherished item she had though was the flower crown dangling from one of her frames. It was a simple arrangement of dandelion and grass. Hunter had given it to her on her when they were just kids, a day she would never forget for it was the one that lead to their life long friendship.

Her gaze drifted to the dried flower arrangements. Each one held a memory, a specific day etched into her mind like a photograph. The first was a delicate bouquet of baby's breath, Hunter had given to her at their mother's book club they had to attended. He had handed them to her after she'd expressed her distaste for the taste of chamomile, a drink served practically on tap to the adult women, a small smile playing on his lips. Then, there were the vibrant sunflowers he brought after their disastrous attempt at mini golf. She had managed to hit the ball into the water hazard nearly 7 times out of 18 but he had laughed along with her the whole time. Then lastly and most recently he had given her a bouquet of orchids on their first bet date. She had told him that those were her favorite flowers of all time from a very young age, the fact traveling into adult hood with her just like how Hunter continued to get her orchids whenever he could.