Can you Feel my heart?

Fifteen fathoms, counting {Oliver}

My mum was digging in the flower beds. I could smell the dirt before I walked out the door. She was wearing that outrageous pink sunhat and probably had her round sunglasses pushed halfway up her nose. She never wore gloves, said it took away the purpose of digging in the earth. My mum is a person to good for this earth. She looked up at me and smiled when I closed the door. 

"Can you hand me that pot of roses, love? I think they'll look incredible in this bed. Especially after we paint the house." 

I handed her the flowers and watched her work, planting her beauty. 

"I was thinking a red door, with a fresh boxwood wreath or maybe curly willow. Your father said a red door is preposterous, but I think it's lovely."

"Mum, I love you." 

She rested her hands on her thighs, and smiled softly, but there was hesitance in her face. 

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I'm going to a party tonight." 

She smiled. 

"I knew you were keeping something to yourself. Just be careful. Make good choices."

"I thought the whole point of being a teenager was to make bad decisions and then regret them later in life?"

 She laughed. 

"Well I suppose that's true" 

I leaned against the porch rail. 

"Oh, I almost forgot. There's something on the counter for you. This gent came by this morning. I think it was Austin? That's his name I suppose. I chatted with him for a while. He seemed charming."

I smiled to myself. He was here. 

I came into the house and softly closed the door behind me. A smile split my face in two. I rushed to the kitchen and found a brown parcel and a blueberry scone. I unwrapped the parcel to see a piece of paper neatly folded. I unfolded it and read it. 

I was just in town this morning, and I couldn't help but think of you. I hope you like blueberries and I :hope you're not like, allergic or anything. I don't want to kill you. Oh my god if this kills you, you can haunt me, I promise I wont be mad. :) 

Inside the package was a thick slice of sea salt caramel in wax paper. I smiled and picked up the scone. I unfolded the plastic around it and broke a piece off. It had a rich vanilla taste and it was still warm. My smile grew as I collected the caramel and went back up to my room. I sat on my bed and looked around. I had hung up a few posters, and my desk was littered in charcoal drawings. In the corner I had hung the tapestry my cousin had sent me from her vacation in Marrakesh, and I put a woven rug and a floor cushion down that Hannah bought me from her mission trip in India. I smiled sadly at my corner. I laid the Caramel on my nightstand, and the label caught my eye. 

Carlile Candy Company 

I looked at it  perplexed. Maybe his dad became that rich because he was a candy tycoon. I laughed. That was ridiculous. His father is to condescending to be a person who makes sweets for others enjoyment. I decided I'd ask him about it later. I stood on my bed, cheek stuffed with scone, and began to hang pictures above my bed. Looking at my friends glossy faces and my equally glossy reaction saddened me. I put down the pictures and ate my scone in silence. My phone buzzed. 

9:56 a.m.
Matty: Do you like blue Curacao, or are you a tequila guy. these things are important to know!!!

9:56 a.m.
I much rather prefer Patron.  And before you ask yes i'll drink a beer but I think they're absolutely rubbish 

10:01 a.m.
Matty: Yeah, yeah you silly Brit. You and your cup o'tea shit. If you really want to get hammered you'll drink whatever is on the sharing table. Fishy makes this cinnamon moonshine that tastes like horses ass but it gets you so twisted off your balls you'll wake up in Whitby not knowing your left hand from your tit. 

10:02 a.m.

I will not have what you're having. 

I sent him my request and pocketed my phone. I stood at my closet door and pulled out clothes for tonight. Black. That's what my closet consisted of. I blew my hair from my face and pulled out a dark red flannel and a pair of not horribly ripped jeans. I set my black vans next to my outfit. I frowned a bit. I felt bad for lying to Austin about going to the party, but maybe him not being there will give me time to relax from this week. I still wanted to know why he had cut class. He seemed a bit withdrawn when we shared that smoke break. Maybe he was loosing interest in me. 'Don't be a twat, he brought you a fucking scone this morning, he obviously still likes you' I thought to myself. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. 

10:23 a.m.
Thanks for the stuff this morning. It was nice. 

10:24 a.m.

Austin: YW 

With that I left my phone on my bed and went down stairs. My mum was still out planting, and she looked so happy, serene. I smiled.