The Piano Knows Something I Don't Know

Do I need to smile?

Do I need to smile?

By the end of the week, I felt as if Public Policy was killing me. My professor had no interest in discussing the philosophical impact of net neutrality, and she definitely didn't think that the solution to most of the current issues in our society was to have a philosopher king ruling the country, just like in Plato's "The Republic." I constantly complained about the class to anyone who would listen, but I did have a few things going for me. My other classes were going well, and I had a steady job and plenty of friends, although Brendon was acting a little strangely.

One day, after a particularly miserable Public Policy lecture, I walked back to Flack Hall through the snow and ice that covered the campus. I was contemplating dropping Public Policy, since it clearly wasn't the class that I thought it would be, but I later decided that would be a bad idea. Most of the other social science classes would likely have similar issues.

My boots were completely soaked, and I almost slipped on a patch of ice as I approached my residence hall. However, as I got closer, I saw a strange sight. I couldn't believe my eyes until I reached the door and confirmed that they were truly there.

Someone had left a bouquet of roses in front of Flack Hall.

I carefully picked up the bouquet and appreciated the flowery scent that the red roses gave off. Then, I searched for a tag to see if they were for anyone in particular. If the roses weren't for me, then it would be wrong of me to even touch them. Why had I done that anyways? I should have looked for a tag first to see who they were for.

I found a small tag attached to the bouquet, and my eyes widened as I read it.

To Ryan Ross: I think you need to smile.

As it turned out, the roses were for me, but who had sent them? There was no indication anywhere on the bouquet, although I did have my suspicions. I brought the flowers into the residence hall and brushed the snow off of them before I climbed upstairs into my dorm room. I didn't have anywhere to put the roses, so they simply rested next to my bed. Maybe I would be able to buy a vase for them over the weekend.

"Where did you get those?" Patrick asked as he briefly looked up from his chemistry textbook.

"I found them outside of Flack Hall, and the tag said that they were for me," I said. "I don't know who sent them though."

"It looks like you've got a secret admirer, Ryan," Patrick said.

"I suppose so," I said with a smile. Whoever had sent the roses had gotten their wish.

A part of me wanted to believe that Brendon had sent the roses. Leaving a bouquet of flowers in front of Flack Hall seemed like the sort of thing that he would do, but at the same time, that seemed like wishful thinking. Brendon had never shown any sort of romantic interest in me, and this seemed like a rather romantic gesture. Then again, nobody at Kale seemed interested in me romantically. How could I say for sure who had sent the flowers?

"Do you have any idea who might have sent them?" I asked Patrick.

Patrick shook his head. "How would I know?" he asked. "I didn't send the bouquet, but it could be anyone else."

That didn't narrow things down very much. I hoped that it was Brendon, but there was no way to be sure of that unless I asked him. The idea terrified me, even though I would have to do it if I wanted to know who sent the roses. In the end, my curiosity and affection for Brendon outweighed my fear, and I told myself that I would talk to Brendon that night.

A few hours later, I walked to the Aubergine, and I was already starting to regret my decision. What if Brendon didn't send the roses? What if he didn't like me at all? What if he hated me for even asking? What if he did send the roses, but it wasn't meant to be romantic? What if he did send the roses, and he wanted to be with me, but he ended up being a terrible boyfriend? What if he was secretly a squid monster?