Flowers for you

Rhododendron

I stared at the rose on my desk. I didn't bother to place it in a vase, because why should I preserve something that reminded me my Best Friend was in danger? I sigh and turn towards the clock beside my bed. It was almost past 3 in the morning and I wasn't even close to sleepy.

My mind made sure of that.

No matter how hard I tried to find the reason behind the rose I could not think of anything. Did the rose mean anything? I tried to google it and rose meant affection, didn't it? Was there another meaning I didn't know about?

I tried to focus on finding a reason for the rose, but my mind had other plans. It always came back to the scene on the beach. Just Jasper and Me. The crashing waves. His eyes. I shake the thoughts away and groan inwardly. I would smack myself right now if I could. Jasmine would have. I cover my face with a pillow and curse myself inwardly. I should not feed whatever I was feeling for Jasper.

That is just wrong. I turned to face the ceiling. Was I mistaking my affections for him as something romantic other than something less? What if I just feel really attached to him because of what we share? And what do we share exactly? A horrible past? A girl who we loved and is missing? Besides, if we ever found Jasmine, I'm pretty sure they would make a great couple. I quench the unwanted feelings inside me and sit up from my bed.

Jasper had left after a few minutes of trying to convince him to go home after we found the rose by the door. I didn't want to take any chances of whatever was happening by the beach. Or maybe it was all in my head and Jasper was just concerned about me. I bury my face in my hands feeling horrible about myself and look up at the rose again.

Roses.

The last thing Jasmine had gotten before she disappeared. This time, I do smack myself in the head before grabbing my phone by the table and opening the chat I had with Jasper. I still myself and look at the time. Was it really a good time for me to be texting him and telling me to come here? I shake my head. Of course, it was. We were looking for Jasmine. I type in the message and just as I am about to send it, I hear someone tapping on my window. I stare at it, trying to make sense of what was happening when the tapping grew louder.

I walk towards it and pull open the blinds only to hold back a scream as I see Jasper holding on to it and practically glaring at me to open it. I unlatch the lock and open it and let him stumble inside. I check outside to see if anyone saw him before closing it and turning to face him.

"I think the message is in the dying bouquet of roses. Do you think her grandma threw it away?"

Something inside me ignites as I realize he had just thought of what I had. I smile and think I could kiss him right now- wait, no. No, Pat. I turn away from him and stare at the rose.

"It'd be rude to go knocking on Mrs. Bradshaw's house right now," I tell him, and he nods, and I am suddenly aware how crazy this all seemed. He went here...climb to my window, to tell me that? I can't look at him without feeling the tension, so I walk towards the rose instead and pick it up. When I turn to him, something in his expression has changed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here like this... I just-," he starts but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"It's okay, I was having a hard time sleeping anyway. Want to brainstorm possible motives and suspects?" I ask, feeling the tension slipping away.

He smiles at this. That lopsided smile and I feel relief wash over me just having him there.

"Sure, let's get that possible serial killer brain of yours to work," he jokes as he sits on the floor, crossed legged. I sat in front of him with a notebook and a pen and he grabs my laptop. I notice he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts and looked like someone who was literally in bed minutes ago. Suddenly, I am aware of my own clothing and pull down my shorts consciously. I scratch my bare shoulders and notice his eyes following my movements.