Flowers Never Wilt

Chapter 6: Buttercup

Sorry for being inactive and indecisive. Anyway here's Max.

Vivi wiped the last counter and squinted back at me, "You really should come." I had taken up a job at a café. I hated being just-turned sixteen and feeling like a trustfund baby. I also needed something to occupy my head. My ex-girlfriend, whom I shared three different failed relationship attempts with, happened to already work there.

"What's the point?" I quizically said, "You know I couldn't give less of a fuck about training anymore."

She smirked and folded her arms, loudly throwing the rag she was cleaning with down, "Yes, but you don't just have to do that. You can play that guitar you touch yourself over so much."

"You're so bitter, Vivienne."

"Calm down, Mackenzie." She walked over to me, "Dating me or not, you know you're stuck with me." She leant against a wall and sighed, "I don't understand why you lost your spark, you know." She smiled, nostalgically, "That spark was why I liked you."

"You were nine."

"You were lucky."

I scoffed.

The first time we "dated", I was eight. And it only really happened because I was short for my age with a chubby tummy full of narcissm and knowledge and I was flabbergasted that a female, such a rare and wild specimen, found me "cute", to quote. The second time, I was twelve. It wasn't much different, it just involved a ham-fisted, and confused first kiss.

The last time, I was thirteen. She was fourteen. It doesn't sound like a huge gap, it's only a year. But it made all the difference. I was still a kid. I was confused, dazed and didn't know what pot was (oh, how times change). She was mature, developed, witty. But she liked me. And it was the closest thing to non-platonic love I had ever felt. It ended badly. I think I was just a but put off because all I wanted to do was play video games but she wanted to make out and break into abandoned buildings and sneak into r-rated movies. It was fun but in the end, I stopped it. I didn't let myself fall any further. I wasn't ready to grow up.

That was a long time ago. But I still cared about Vivi. I'd never be able to stop caring for her.

"Come." She demanded, "Summer. Sinnoh. Come."

"No." I hissed at her.

"You can't be a hermit forever, Max." She said with a hint of genuine worry that was quickly cut off by the snide remark of, "There might be more skinny, white girls for you to romance."

"What are you talking about?" My cheeks burned.

"Oh, bullshit. Don't act like you've forgotten her." Vivi rolled her eyes, barista apron draped around her hips, eyes big and brown. You could see her freckles this close up. "She was blonde. French. The teeniest, tiniest, little thing I'd ever seen. You could snap her in half."

"Don't talk about Bonnie that way. Girls like you and May always bodyshame smaller women and it's really not okay. Small girls are fucking gorgeous-"

"Max! Max!" She cackled, "Calm down, I was just trying to get a reaction out of you. She was cute. In that sort of, nïave, lost lamb in the woods kinda way. Cute." She bit her lip, "You really cared about her, huh?"

I shrugged. Did I really care about Bonnie? What did Vivi mean by that? "I guess. I miss her. She was the closest friend I ever had. She made me happy."

"Aw," She rubbed my arm, "Cheer up, buttercup." She grinned, "Come to Sinnoh with me! It'll be great." She heard me moan rather audibly and responded, "Listen, you do one shitty course in training, bomb it, and get to ace one in music. Think of all the places it could lead."