The Florist | ✓ (#Wattys2016)

marigolds

marigolds

4 years, 4 months before

There is a coffee shop in Edgecastle town, nestled between a record store and a key cutter's. The giant glass window at the shopfront is frosted over completely with ice and condensation, and they're playing Dean Martin's Christmas Classics on repeat inside.

Bundled into a corner booth upstairs, Dev says, "It's bloody early to be bringing out Dean Martin." He fiddles idly with the plastic marigold perched sadly on the middle of the table.

"Stop trying to change the subject," says Alice, whacking him on the arm with the back of her gloved hand. "You said her last name was Monroe?"

"Yeah, Monroe."

She hits enter on her phone, and a long list of Clara Monroes flash up. "I take it she's the arty girl in the bob?"

"Stop stalking her!" hisses Dev, glancing at the time printed in tiny digits above the collection of Claras. He's an idiot for even mentioning her to his friends.

Alice ignores him and taps on the pixels that form Clara's face. "No mutual friends," she reads aloud.

"We've been texting," he says hurriedly. "I don't want her to know I've been Facebook stalking her."

"You haven't," assures Alice breezily. "I have. It's fine. Anyway, I can tell you like this girl."

"I don't! I mean, I do. It's platonic. It's a friend thing," he says, and he means it.

Alice snorts. "Okay..."

"No, really," he insists. "I really like her. Just because she doesn't want to date me, doesn't mean I don't still like her as a person."

"That's very Dev of you." Then her eyes widen as she swipes through Clara's pictures. "That is a lot of plaid."

Dev rolls his eyes. "Not this again."

She fixes him with a sage gaze. "You know what plaid shirts mean," says Alice who is currently wearing one.

"Plaid doesn't mean lesbians! If anything it means lumberjacks, or werewolves in young adults supernatural romance dramas." He sighs. "Anyway, that's a stereotype. Therefore you are a gaycist."

"Brushing over 'gaycist'..." she says slowly. "The plaid thing is a real deal. It's like the lesbian Bat-Signal."

Dev fixes her with a deadpan stare. "So when you see plaid, you know that a crime has just been committed in Gotham City?"

"Please, hetero. It's how we know a girl's one of us. And all I'm saying is that your Clara's a vagitarian."

He retches. "Can we just right now agree to never use that word again? And by 'agree' I mean swear an actual blood oath?"

But Alice's attention has been distracted again. "Holy shit, Dev!" She thrusts the phone in front of his face, so close that it's hard to focus his eyes on it. "She likes Tegan and Sara."

"Alice," he says. "She has a boyfriend."

She rolls her eyes. "Then she's bi. Or pan. Whatever she is, I just want it to be known that I called it."

Dev ignores her.

Then suddenly Alice's eyes grow wide and she whacks him on the arm. Following her gaze, Dev peers over at the staircase.

Clara has emerged, bundled up in a winter coat and a beanie hat. Next to her is a boy. He is tall and white, with slim glasses perched on his nose, and half of his hair has been pulled up into a bun.