Page 30 of Petals and Plot Twists
She’s the one who taught me that just because I’m happy keeping my own company, I don’t have toalwaysbe that way. I resisted for a long time, mostly because she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and I had no idea how to talk to her. But she didn’t give up.
She asked and she asked and she laughed at my rejections and joked about how many times it would take before I finally said yes.
Fourteen.
That’s how many times it took. Once I said yes, everything changed for the better.
“Hey, what’s with the face?” Sophie asks from beside me, her voice gentle. “What are you thinking?”
I look over at her. “Nothing. Just…I don’t know. It’s stupid.”
“No feeling is stupid, Peter. Talk to me.”
I run a hand down my face. “Just memories,” I say.
She nods, but I’m not sure she’s convinced that’s all that’s going on.
Needing a distraction, I dig through the drawer of instructions, looking for one booklet in particular. As soon as I find it, I tug it out and hand it to Sophie. “Here. Build this with me.”
“Really? Right now?”
“I don’t want to do this yet,” I say, motioning my head toward the closet behind me. “And this one won’t take long. It’s an easy one.”
“A greenhouse,” she says as she looks at the booklet. She flips through the pages while I pull out the bins I’m pretty sure hold most of the pieces we need. “Oh, my gosh. And the inside is full of flowers.”
“I thought you’d like it.” I set the bin down in the center of my mostly empty childhood bedroom and sit down beside it, holding a hand up and offering it to Sophie.
She shakes her head, chuckling as she lets me tug her onto the floor. “Hey, so sorry about spilling the beans about your promotion,” she says as she tucks her feet under her. “I don’t know what I was thinking, just blurting it out like that. I could see the worry in your mom’s eyes, and I thought it might make her feel better.”
“I didn’t mind you saying something,” I say as I riffle through the pieces, pulling out the ones we need. “It was a good idea.”
She smiles. “Good. I worried you still might not get it, and then you’d be mad that we gave your mom false hope,” she says. “When will you find out for sure?”
“Any day now,” I say. “Actually, I expected a call yesterday, but it never came.”
“Does that worry you?” Sophie asks, and I scoff, breathing out a little chuckle.
“Oh, I see how it is,” she says, her tone playful. “The master data scientist is very confident.”
My cheeks heat the slightest bit. Iamconfident, but my boss also told me I’d all but gotten the job. He’s waiting for our corporate offices down in Charlotte to make things official, but that’s more a formality than anything else.
“They pretty much told me the job is mine,” I say. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“You don’t have to justify it to me,” she says. “I already think you’re fabulous. You deserve all the promotions.”
I set a thin green plate on the carpet to act as our base, then give Sophie several pieces we’ll need to assemble the foundation of the greenhouse.
“How long has it been since you’ve done this?” she asks, lining the pieces up in front of her.
“Years,” I say. “This one is actually the last one I built. During our senior year of high school. I built it for you.”
Her gaze jumps to mine. “What?”
I shrug. “You’d just gotten into UMass, and you were so excited about the botany program. I bought it for you, built it thinking I would give it to you, but then…”
“Why didn’t you?” she asks. “Peter, I would have loved it.”
I reach up and adjust my glasses. A part of me wants to just tell her everything. How I felt about her then. How Istillfeel about her now.
