Searching For Roses

chapter two

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

• • •

THE MINUTE HAND rotated. He had disappeared to his room the minute he heard Mariah Carey start to squeak, so he carefully studied the clock on his wall that was slightly broken, thus prompting a minute or two delay. He'd heard his mom and dad start shouting in the living room, his sister probably clapping or popping champagne or kissing her boyfriend. Two minutes later, his own lonely New Year's ball drop began. 2018 marked the year that he'd graduate high school. He would finally be handed off to whatever college would take him. The year he'd graduate high school. The year Avengers: Infinity War was coming out as well, which may not be as life-changing as college or graduating high school, but just as important.

He rolled around in his bed, not at all feeling like the new person everyone claimed to magically be on this day, this time of year.

In the passing month, Leo had grown more and more skeptical of his dead grandmother's assumptions about his wellbeing. He'd showed his parents the letter that day after school, and his mother just sighed with the same facial expression he saw on her face when she got the call about his grandmother.

"I shouldn't believe it, right?" he'd asked, tapping his index finger on the dining room table. "But, I mean, she's predicted all of these things, I sorta feel like I have to believe her."

"I don't know, kid, that's not my call," his dad had replied, his hands clasped on the table. "She did see us getting married, but that could've just been an easy coincidence, you can never tell."

Leo blinked, and glanced at his mom.

"She told me about this years and years ago," she mumbled through her lips. "I really don't trust her on a lot of this, especially since she's talking about your life! How can she just come up with what happens to you in your life? Leo, I can't say that she's wrong, but just go with your gut. I really debated giving this letter to you, but I feel like you need to make this decision on your own. Just . . . don't let this dictate your life."

Fast forward to New Year's day, and he was battling with himself whether he should be going to that rose parade while in tangled sheets on his bed in the period of time just before the sun awoke.

On the one hand, if his grandmother was right, he could find the one that could save him, and, from what he picked up on, love him. On the other hand, he could be digging himself a further hole into which he lives for the rest of his life, away from harm's way.

His disbelief had grown stronger the more he realistically thought. The sun began to wave in greeting through the cracks in his blinds. Tossing and turning, he ran both of his hands through his flat mess of brown tendrils. Leo leapt up silently, walking on his tip-toes so the wood panels beneath his feet wouldn't creak as loud.

He rummaged through his miscellaneous draw in his desk, eventually finding a loose quarter at the bottom. Heads, he goes. Tails, he stays home.

He fell back into his bed, clearing a space for the quarter to land. He held his breath, and flipped it.

• • •

Leo slammed his snooze button, wiping the drool off the side of his face. After a few minutes of still and silent sitting, he grunted and rolled into the least-wrinkled shirt and jeans he could find.

He'd gotten a ticket to reserve his seat a while ago. He wasn't expecting anything as he drove by the houses decorated with lights, he wasn't expecting anything as he hummed along to the radio, he wasn't expecting anything as he approached a road block, and stands filled with people. His car slowly petered to a stop, and he parked along a side street filled with dimly lit homes that he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to park on, but there was nowhere else to go.