I whip out my phone and quickly find the number I know by heart but haven’t texted in a while.
Hey Pete! Heading to the game now. Don’t want it to be weird but can I talk to you about something really quick after you guys win? Good luck!
As soon as I push send, I bite my lip. Please, please say yes.
My reaction must make Steve think I care about Molly, because he looks back at me. “You’re way better, for the record.” He cautiously looks to my sister for her approval. She looks satisfied and smiles back at me for confirmation, as if I need her to. “It’s true.”
“Er…thanks,” I say.
Instinctively, I hug my ribs where stitches healed months ago and look out the window.
I watch Ashley give Steve another death stare, which says see what you did? I’d normally enjoy that they are fighting—maybe there’s a near-future chance they break up. But I hate that they’re fighting about me.
I’m about to tell her that I’m completely fine, when her next words stop me.
“Turn here on Clover.”
Clover? Did she say Clover? Like my paper heart? My eyes dart to the window.
The headlights shine on two street signs. Then I see it. The words from my mysterious paper heart from earlier are now calling for me in front of my eyes. It is the corner of two narrow roads lined with stores—the corner of Clover and Gold.
“Stop!” I yell.
Steve slams on the brakes. The wheel turns and the car swerves a little before he straightens the wheel. Ashley gasps loudly. My body sways toward the window and then snaps back. For a moment, it feels like all time has stopped, until the car behind us beeps the horn loudly, making me jump.
“What was that?” Steve gasps as he starts to drive again. Ashley looks back at me.
“I—I just need to get out for a second for some fresh air. Can you pull over real quick?”
“Are you serious?” Steve asks. “I almost got rear-ended so you can get fresh air. You’d think you— never mind,” he says, cutting himself short.
Ashley ignores him, still looking at me. I think she sees the urgency in my eyes, because she nods.
“Fresh air it is. I’ll tell Jason I’m running late,” Steve says, noticeably annoyed. But I don’t care about his tone—all I care about is getting out of this car.
After a couple of blocks, Steve glides the car to the side of the road into an open spot. As soon as the car stops, I’m unbuckled and swinging the door open. The cold air instantly hits my face, and I feel deceived by the warm glowing streetlights around us, but that’s not going to stop me. I wrap the scarf Carmen got me for Christmas tighter around my face and practically leap out of the car.
“I’m coming too,” Ashley declares as she opens the door.
“No, I’m fine,” I say to her. “Stay here, I’ll be quick.”
She frowns in a defeated way, like she used to when we were younger and I told her she couldn’t hang out with me and Carmen. But she shuts the door and shrinks back in her seat.
I turn and make my way along the sidewalk to the corner. My toes are cold, but I don’t even think about that, or about how I’m walking around in the dark, or how my phone just buzzed, probably from a new text in my group chat asking where I am.
There’s barely anyone on the sidewalks. I spot a couple getting out of their car, but they immediately dart into a French café. I pass other little shops and a large industrial brick building with a bar normally crowded with college kids. Peeping inside, I see that the pool tables are pretty empty, like nobody dares to go outside.
When I see the sign for Gold Street, I squeeze the paper heart in my jeans pocket. I’m a block away now.
A food delivery bike reels past me, and I get a whiff of Italian food. My stomach jolts, but I know it’s not from hunger. First of all, I’m full from the tacos. But second, and more importantly, I have a feeling I’ve never had before, like trick birthday candles are reigniting in my stomach.
When I turn the corner, I suddenly fear this is all a trick too. What did I expect to find?
As I keep walking toward the signs for Clover and Gold, the candles in my stomach snuff out for good. There’s nothing there but the street signs. Besides, it’s freezing. I should just retreat back to the car. Back where I know I can’t be disappointed.
I’m officially about to turn around when I hear a jingle. Out pops a man on the sidewalk at the corner of Clover and Gold. He’s holding a large bouquet, and the realization blooms in my mind like the roses in his hand.
It’s a flower shop.
I walk toward the corner, my long legs carrying me as fast as possible toward warmth and answers. When I push open the door, a sign above it catches my eye: fred’s flowers.
This flower shop feels so random sitting here on a busy street, like a burst of life popping out in the crack of a sidewalk. I must have walked by this place at least a dozen times without noticing it.
When I walk inside, there’s a man at a counter with rows of poinsettias, roses, and other flowers behind him. I don’t know their names, but they look like they belong in some imaginary secret garden that I’d doodle in my notebook.
“Can I help you?” the man asks. I wonder if he’s Fred, but I shake my head.
“Just looking,” I say.
Maybe-Fred nods toward a row of flowers. “Orchids are two for one today. Let me know if you need help finding anything.”
He sounds as bored as he looks, with his slumped shoulders and expressionless face. He opens his register like he’s about to start counting money out of boredom.
“Actually…,” I start, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the paper heart. “I got this note—”
That’s all I have to say before his eyes light up.
The man claps his hands and disappears into the back of the store. When he returns, he has a long-stemmed rose in his hand.
“For you, my dear,” he says.
I know I should be grateful, but I’m so surprised that I forget to say thank you or take the flower from his outstretched hand. I stand there awkwardly until he pushes the stem closer. I reluctantly reach out and grab the rose.
“You’re a lucky lady,” the man says, smiling still. A stark contrast to the Fred who was bored out of his mind moments ago. It’s obvious this sort of thing doesn’t normally happen to him. I feel my cheeks turn redder than the flower petals in front of me.
“What is this for? Who is it from?”