The Boy Who Loved Flowers

three | h e y

"YOU KNOW," KIERA swallowed a handful of chips, peering over her laptop, "I don't think he knows he doesn't have a chance with you."

"He doesn't?" I flipped onto my stomach, pulling a pillow under my head. If anything, it was I who didn't have a chance with Ashton. Ever since he introduced himself, he became a topic often brought up between Kiera and I. It didn't matter what we were talking about, he always seemed to have some sort of connection. It seemed ridiculous as I thought about it, but somehow it was the complete truth.

"No, he doesn't. But you know who does..." her voice trailed off, the blue of her eyes shimmered teasingly.

"Who?" I lifted up my head, now interested in the slight change of subject. I always wondered how she knew these things, why would one ever tell their crush's best friend their harboring secret? To me, it seemed cowardly not to confront the one you actually liked.

"Well," Kiera huffed, "besides a thousand other guys, Carter."

"Oh?" I mumbled, no longer caring at the mention of my old, childhood friend. Carter and I barely spoke lately, and it didn't really matter that much anyway - I had no feelings for him.

"Yeah," Kiera said a little dreamily, "He'd be a perfect match, wouldn't you agree? He's tall."

Not as tall as Ashton, I thought.

"And handsome."

Ashton's looks are far more superior.

"Also, he's really sweet."

Touche.

I sighed, "Maybe a match for you, but not me. Which reminds me, what happened with Nick? I know he asked you out and all."

"Mm," Her voice was flat, "I thought I liked him but then I met Skylar."

"Oh, God. Kiera," I groaned, "You need to stop liking so many guys!"

"Yes, I need to," Kiera admitted, but an impish smile replaced her pursed lips, "But do I want to?"

"Yes, yo--"

"That was rhetorical. I don't." Kiera snapped playfully.

Oh well. I rested my head against the plush pillow, listening to the soft taps that came from Kiera's keyboard. She suddenly squealed, a noise I wish to never hear again. I sent a look of daggers her way, frowning with annoyance.

"Ashton has Instagram!" Kiera grinned, "Let's see what's on here..."

She quieted a minute, "Damn. It's private."

"Then follow it," I muttered, turning onto my side. Internally, I was excited about this discovery but I was far too tired to express it.

"That would blow my cover!" Kiera hissed, "I need to be discrete."

"What are you," I yawned, "a secret agent? James Bond? Go to sleep, double 'O' seven."

"Fine, I'll follow him. But I'll have you know, I'm probably better than James Bond."

"Go to sleep," I repeated.

Kiera snapped off the purple lamp that once glowed a radiant, lilac color around the room. She curled up next to me, unknowingly taking the blanket. Luckily, her room was hot enough to the point where I'd most likely live without the covers.

♦

The lunch room, an uproarious and hectic area where you could easily get away with breaking even the most intricate of rules. Anything says, goes. Gladly, there wasn't the typical bullies you were often warned about as child. It was just the slight pressure from your peers - even a little bit seemed to be the feather that broke the camel's back. That's all I noticed as my eyes roamed the cafeteria, stopping on Kiera as she scrolled endlessly on her phone.