Hello August, Please Be Good To Me

Chapter 14: Roses Are Yellow

I'm just about close to reaching the end of my nerves and blocking both Ant and Justin's numbers, but something stops me every time. I don't think about what it is, because deep inside I know I would find the answer easily. It's just another day of lounging on my bed, counting down the days until orientation, when my phone buzzes, and I look down warily at the number. Sometimes I answer unknown numbers, other times I get caught up in how the person got my number and I scare myself out of answering. Today, I'm in a what-the-hell kind of mood and answer right after hearing the noise. "Hello?" I ask, and settle back into the bed.

"Lyric, please don't hang up the phone!" It's Ant. I stay quiet and don't hang up. "Lyric? Okay, so first off I'm sorry for being a jerk. To you. Ow!" I hear a slap in the background, and the sound of Ant retaliating before speaking back into the phone. "Fine. To Justin. But hear Justin out, whatever he says is the truth. What do you say?" I say nothing. I don't know what to say or what to feel or how to act. I look down at the number and begin to memorize it when for when he calls my name again. "I'm still here." I'm not sure where my sharp tone and sour mood is coming from, as I'm not that mad. "We broke up!" I hear Justin blurt, and the abruptness of it all makes me laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh I'm sorry, it's just that you think stringing me along is okay because you justified it with breaking up with your girlfriend after the fact."

"Lyric, I'm sorry, I really like you, and I promise I wasn't stringing you along! I've been trying to break up with Amanda for a while and she wasn't getting the hint!"

"Make sure Christina's well aware of that too," I say icily, and stop, wondering where that came from.

"Lyric, I had fun with you at Destin, and I think you're pretty cool. Just...can we start over?"

"Um, I have to go. Thanks for explaining things." My heart suddenly beats quickly against my chest, and as I tap the end button, I choke back a sob. What did I just do? I believe him don't I?

"Wow, you really can hold a grudge can't cha?" Mariana asks, and I'm starting to regret telling her and Cat the ins and outs of my life. Maybe that's why they're called co-workers for a reason. "He did apologize. Damn, Lyric." I give a disgusted look to Cat, before finishing the icing on a batch of cookie slices to be put out for the customers. Now I'm irritable, and I know it's my fault but once I start something I just can't seem to stop the snowball effect. Last night, the last thing on my mind before I finally went to sleep was Justin, and I wanted to call him and apologize, but I knew it's a little late for that. My heart aches badly, and instead of tears I fight back my wondering thoughts, and focus back on my work for the rest of my shift. My quiet, frostiness keeps Cat and Mariana at bay, and for once it doesn't comfort me at all.

On my break, I walk out of the mall and bask in the sunlight before standing by the benches. It's like I'm waiting for something. The Universe must be enjoying itself. I've never been more uncomfortable in my life. I look out into the parking lot and squint to make sure I'm not going crazy. Walking up with a bouquet of flowers is Justin. He's wearing a muscle tee, and my eyes settle on the part of his tattoo that's not covered up by the plastic holding the flowers. When he reaches me, I feel my face heat up and before I can say anything, he hands me the yellow roses. "I think we need a do over, and I'm not letting you go. But uh, here's to friendship until then. If you'll accept." He looks so flustered and unsure of himself as I eye the flowers but don't take them immediately. It takes a long time for me to both find my voice and lose my pride. Finally I do something neither of us expect, and hug him by his neck. "Okay," I whisper, and don't let go.

Roses are my least favorite flower, but looking at the bright yellow blossoms in a vase by my window, I can't help smiling and thinking how they're the prettiest ones I've ever seen. It must have been an hour we spent talking outside the mall before I realized where the time went. It was like I forgot to act like me and just was me. He was more than Justin, the Beautiful Stranger with the freckles and tattoo. We talked about a wedding he went to last month where he found out somebody who had his last name (Bluett) and they weren't related at all; about his love for cats and his old cat he called Cheetos Puff that died; how his mom is dead as well and unlike me, he has a step-mother from the Dominican Republic; and also that he's going to USF in the fall. "Go Bulls," he said slyly, making the 'rock on' sign with his index and pinkie fingers to symbolize the school's mascot, Rocky the bull. "Looks like we'll be rivals," I say, and he shrugs before addign, "I kinda hope not," and smiles alluringly. I'm not sure where we stand, and as much as I want to ask for advice, I want to keep my feelings to myself more. Just a little while longer. Plus, Sierra, Cat, and Mariana don't need the satisfaction of being right.

Later that day, back at home, I take out my sketchbook and continue to work on my dream home, the one I've started over so many times I had start on a new page due to the eraser marks and pencil lead smudges. I finish the floor plan in no time, as usually, and begin to start on the hardest part: the individual rooms. I start on the master bedroom, and fill in the bed and other furnishings. It isn't until the basics are covered when I notice I drew a cat on the bed with an orange strip of fur, shaded darker than the rest of the cat. I quickly write Cheetos Puff in small print across the page and close my sketchbook.