Chapter 28 | "You forgot something, flower."

76 3 57
                                    

On Friday, I receive eight yellow delicate roses.

The first one is taped on the inside of my locker which I find when I arrive to school. I had needed to get my first textbook for the day so I had walked over to the locker that I usually avoided. The reason being was the couple that was making out next to me as soon as I get to the sixth floor. Since our school is divided by the fact that each grade gets their own hallway, ours landed on the sixth floor. Which was the hallway that least amount of classes were there-
only three science classes tucked away at the end of the hallway -the reason why so many seniors were using it to their advantage. Seniors were sneaking off up there to makeout and hang out with their friends.

I ignore the couple even if their lips moving against one another was loud and annoying me and I open the lcoker. Inside of the opening, there is a single yellow rose taped, its stem carefully cut off. I take it off and look at the note attached. It has the words You are pretty on it. I smile because I recognize the handwriting. I've seen it on notebooks and on the chalkboard in Ones Ignored. It's Jameson's.

He had been the one to gift me a rose. Jameson walks past me then and I turn to him with a giant smile on my face. He looks at the expression on my face and doesn't say anything as he walks down the stairs and toward his first class. I can't help the giggle that escapes me and I hold the rose to my chest as I head over to my first class of the day.

I recieve the second rose on my way to my next period. Jameson finds me in the hallway and hands me the rose as well as a note. This was also a small compliment. It reads: I love your curls. I smile at that because I hadn't gotten a compliment on my natural hair ever in my life time; everybody prefered my hair straightened. I'm about to thank him for the rose but he walks away from me but doesn't disappaear around the hallway without a glance back at me. I place the rose with the other one and hold it to my chest.

The interaction between us is the same for the next period. Jameson only talks to me at lunchtime when I am sitting at my table. I had been talking to Kennedy on my way here and had already been sitting down. He stands in front of my spot and places the rose in my hand, dropping down gently. I turn around suprissed to find a smiliar rose and he whispers,"You forgot something, flower." I knew then that he was looking for me in the hallway. I say a soft thanks and he leaves me with a soft smile sent at me.

I'm not bothered with the way half of the group is glaring at me when he leaves. I don't care about that, I only care about the fact that Jameson was gifting me such beautiful roses. I get one for every class, until the last one. The last one is taped in my locker with a much longer note inside. It's more of a letter. I place all eight of my roses under my armpit and with my hip on the locker for better balance, I open up the piece of letter.

Dear Ivory,

I've given you eight flowers now and yet I haven't given you an official apology yet. Those roses were merely a gift, no means of expecting you to forgive me. It was just something I gave you to make you smile. I'm writing this in lunch right now, and I can safely say that my plan worked. Your smile was so soft and tender when you first saw the rose inside your locker. I watched your smile widen when you read the note. Every time you recieved a new rose and you smiled, I smiled. I love seeing you smile.

I'm an asshole. I firmly believe that my actions could be summarized in those three letters. I had no right attacking you just because I was afraid of you seeing me. It's hard for me to trust anyone any more, but I could've been gentle with you. You deserve only that, Ivory. You are gentle and you are graceful. I was anything but that.

I mentioned your mom, that was way too far. The thruth is when you first mentioned your mother not living with you, having left you, I was saddned. I don't have the best mother but at least I had one that stayed, for Maeve at least. You mentioned how you didn't see her in over a year and I felt a summersault done in my chest. Was that weird? For me to physically feel bad for you? When you told me that story that time you got drunk, I remember looking at your face. I never seen someone look so sad telling a beautiful story and then you mentioned the part where she left. I never wanted to hug you more, to hold you close and to tell you that I was sorry.

Ones IgnoredWhere stories live. Discover now