Flower Girl

Forty-Four

"And you'll be back no later than nine, understood?"

"Annabelle," Poire groaned as she slipped into her sneakers, "it's fine. Bianca and her boyfriend will be there anyway."

Annabelle sighed and took a seat on the couch in her living room. "I know." She pressed a palm to her temple and shook her head. "I know..." she echoed. "But I can't help but worry about—"

Poire laid a hand on her shoulder. "You have everybody's number," she said. "I've given you our location. Plus, you can track me with the GPS on my phone."

"Thank God I can," Annabelle said as she lay back against a giant pillow and waved her hand around. "I'm glad the cops let us keep it after the Ivan thing."

To this, Poire let out a sheepish laugh as she unlocked the door. "I... To be frank, I'm not sure whether I should be concerned, annoyed, or happy."

"Look," Annabelle snapped, her head lazily turning Poire's way as she squinted and shot a dubious glare at her sister's figure. "I'm just worried, okay? First off, I'm glad you...found someone? But also, I would be in trouble if something were to happen to you...and you'd be in even bigger trouble than me. Trust me when I say I like that prospect even less."

"I can stay if you want," Poire finally said as she took a step back into her sister's apartment. "I heard stress was bad for pregnant women."

Annabelle waved her hands. "No, no, no, no!" she said, as she urged Poire to leave with another small motion of her palm. "Please, go. I want you to live out your life to the fullest. Just...be careful, okay?"

Poire rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom." She walked out of the door frame but quickly traced her steps before poking her head into the apartment once more. "Thanks, Mom," she said, chuckling, as she left for good this time and made for the apartment complex's exit.

It was weird taking the bus alone to a place she had never been to, especially at night, a time where her mother would usually never let her wander. Perhaps, Poire thought, I should be afraid.

But she wasn't. She wasn't because she believed she had grown, and that whatever came her way this time, would be things she could handle.

The bus was filled with faces she never saw during the day. There was a woman chattering away on the phone, a bunch of lively musicians with instruments on their backs, and a young man who seemed to be in deep conversation with...himself. As he tied up his long, blond hair, Poire wondered if he was crazy; however, he then stood up and left at the next stop, and Poire would never know.

When Poire finally arrived, Bianca, her boyfriend, and Adam were already waiting for her near the bus's timetable.

"Poire! You made it!" Bianca grinned and pointed to a young man who looked to be at least a few years older than her. Poire wondered if she should question it, yet, figuring it would be rude, decided she would talk to Bianca later on the matter of her dubious choices in boyfriends. "Meet Brandon," Bianca said. "We've been together for a couple of months now." She held onto his arm. "So get along with him, but"—she winked—"not too much, now."

Poire's laughter was awkward. "S-sure," she said.

To this, Brandon only gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement as he scratched the back of his dark hair and proceeded to hook an arm around Bianca's waist. "Let's go, babe," he said, leading them toward a hill not too far away.

"Hey," a voice blurted, one Poire recognized to be Adam's, as he walked up to her and grinned. "Glad to see you again," he said.

Poire tilted her head and raised a brow. "Would there be a reason why you wouldn't be?" she asked him, both her hands now rested against her hips. "Unless you're changing schools or dying?"