Late Summer Rain

Red Roses

CHAPTER FOUR ~*~*~ Red Roses

I screamed at the top of my lungs and was almost in tears when Ryan handed me the airplane tickets. Screaming, and especially at the top of my lungs, was something I rarely ever did since I never found anything that can work me up to that stage.

There weren’t many things in this world I could say I’m scared of either, things that can make me freak out like I was twelve years old again or make me cry. I haven’t screamed this loud for years and the last time I cried was when I was five, shoved an earthworm in my older brother’s mouth, and got spanked because of it.

“Excited?” He asked, laughing at me.

“No kidding!” I said, looking at the plane tickets to San Diego. The boat tickets were there too, the ones that would take us far out to the ocean to dive with the Great White Sharks. “Are you sure? I can pay you back. It’ll just take me some time since I don’t have that much money right now.”

Ryan shook his head of golden blonde hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it all covered. My parents are paying and they just want us to have a good time, so what do you say? Are you in?”

I smirked slyly at him. “You know if you put it like that, I’ll say yes. I’m not a very humble person when it comes to free things.” Ryan just rolled his eyes at me as I broke into a light chuckle. “Plus, I really want to see the sharks!”

“Then I can count you in next week?” Ryan scrunched up his shoulders and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans before throwing me a boyish grin. “On the plane, right beside me?”

I nodded. “Right beside you.” I said, smiling at him.

He beamed at me. “Well then come on. Let’s get going.”

Ryan walked over to his car, but I stood a good distance back on my driveway. “Wait, wait, wait,” I screamed. I held my arms out, one hand facing him like a stop sign as he turned around and gave me a questioning look. “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

Ryan knew exactly what I was talking about and gave me a nod of approval before I took a deep breath. My legs picked up instantly and I dashed down the driveway toward his car before I jumped, slid across his convertible’s hood and then... “Oww!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh my God! Dannie! Are you okay?!”

I burst into laughter as I rubbed the side of my butt. Oh God, that was so much fun!

Ryan on the other hand though, was not laughing. His eyes were wide like a bug's and immediately upon seeing me on the concrete ground, picked me up bridal style off the driveway. My cheeks instantly heated up. I felt like he was just about to kick open the door of our honeymoon suite.

“Put- Put me down!” I screamed, flailing my legs. “I’m fine Ryan! Just put me down!”

“How can you be fine?” He barked. “You just totally wiped out!”

My jaw dropped at his insult and I immediately brought my face up to his. “I did not,” I hissed.

“You totally did!”

“I didn’t!” I screamed, and then turned away from him as I cleared my throat. “I uh... intended to do that from the very beginning.”

I gave Ryan a quick side glance and found him raising an eyebrow at me. “You intended to fall flat on your butt from the very beginning?”

I blushed. “Yes.”

Ryan was apparently raised to be very considerate because he didn’t bring the topic up again.

I sighed and quickly managed to recompose myself while he pulled out of my driveway and started down the road. It was a cool Tuesday afternoon and the smell of rain still lingered in the air from the early morning.

It had been raining for the past few days – a good change from the overwhelming heat – but now everybody was sick of it and wanted the sun back again. “Where are we going anyways?” I asked Ryan.

He shrugged before grinning at me. “You’ll know when we get there.”

Ryan ended up taking me to a meadow where they grew roses in a town several hours north of where we lived. He wanted me to help him pick some red ones up for his mom. It was number nine on his summer to-do list.

When we arrived, I was more than surprised at how wonderful the roses smelled. They gave off such an attractive aroma that was both refreshing and sweet. The owner gave us some garden shears and a small basket to hold our roses in.

Ryan got straight to work, carefully picking his roses from a few selected bushes with no thorns as I ran around smelling all the different types before making splashes in the muddy puddles out of sheer boredom.

“I never understood why people liked roses so much.” I shouted to him across the mazes of different colored rose bushes. Ryan was done picking his flowers and now stood wiping the sweat that trickled down his cheeks. The sun was up, shining brightly, carving a rainbow from the leftover raindrops in the sky. “I mean they aren’t the best smelling flowers in the world and they certainly aren’t the prettiest looking flowers in the world. Why is everyone so obsessed with them?”

Ryan shrugged and jumped over multiple rose bushes before coming to my side. “I guess they like it because of the symbols roses have come to represent. Orange roses stand for desire, white roses for innocence, pink roses for admiration and yellow roses for friendship. Red roses...” he said smiling, “symbolize love.” He bent down and clipped a red rose off a nearby bush. “Here, for you.”

Ryan slipped the red rose in my hair and ran off, only turning around once when he was too far away for me to see the color on his face. My fingers grazed lightly against the soft, red petals tucked neatly between the crease of my ear and my hair and wondered if my cheeks were the same color.

“C’mon!” Ryan yelled from the distance. “Or I’ll leave without you!”

“Coming.” I quickly dashed after him, but the speed of the incoming wind knocked the rose down as I picked up the pace. I turned around and swiftly bent over to pick the rose up, but dropped it once more when I felt a piercing sting on the tip of my index finger.

A small bulb of blood sat over the insignificant wound before overflowing and rolling off the side of my finger.  Gingerly, I picked the rose up again before staring at it with curiosity. There – near the green bud of the rose – was a tiny, almost unnoticeable thorn sharpened near the edge for attacking.

I guess even the most innocent and pleasant looking flowers have a weapon that they’re hiding.

Holding the stem of the rose, I hurried after Ryan.

Red roses symbolize love, and red roses – despite their alluring beauty – can definitely hurt you.