Spring was my favorite season until she came along.
The promise of new, budding life, watching all of the trees flourish and the flowers bloom-it made me feel a certain kind of renewed hope. Hope that things will change for me somehow. Hope that I will finally become a success. Hope that this year, my second year owning my flower shop, will be better than the first.
Then, she moved in and she crushed it all.
My best friend broke the news to me, before I had any idea that the retail space next to mine was being rented out. It had been empty for so long, long before I moved in myself. It was one of the reasons I picked the space. I didn't want any neighbors, I liked my quiet and my space.
"Looks like you're getting a new neighbor."
My eyes flickered up toward the voice belonging to my lifelong best friend, Buffy, who strolled through the front door of my shop-Flower Boy. The bell gave a quiet ding as she entered and another as the door shut behind her. It was a satisfying sound that I didn't experience enough.
"Great. Can't wait." I grumbled, turning my eyes back down to the bouquet I was currently assembling, "With my luck, it will either be a candy or gift shop, something to make business even worse."
I focused on the pink petals, grimacing at the color. I hated pink flowers more than I hated a lot of things. Every time an order came in for a dominantly pink bouquet I wanted to vomit, but I forced a smile toward the customer anyways. My ability to charm people was unmatched, sometimes I was sure it was the only thing keeping me afloat.
"You're so negative." Buffy rolled her eyes, jumping up onto the counter next to where I was working, picking up a pink primrose and pressing it to her nose to inhale the sweet scent, "It looks like something else, it's been painted black on the inside. Big neon sign going up."
"Well, I'm not happy about it." I commented.
"You're not happy about most things." She shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Instead of responding, I just shrugged my shoulders and scowled. I was in a terrible mood and had been all day long, stemming from the fight I had earlier with my girlfriend, Jessica, about marriage. Again.
She was desperate for me to propose, dropped hints constantly about it, even signed me up for multiple email lists for the most expensive jewelers she could find. I kept telling her I wanted to wait until my business was doing better. She didn't understand why I didn't just work for our dads, who were business partners, she would never understand what it was like to want to work for your own money. Jessie didn't want to be understanding about the fact that I was struggling with my finances and why I refused to ask for handouts.
The upside to renting a retail space in the Wasteland was the price-I rented for dirt cheap, which is exactly what I needed after being cut off by my dad. The downside was that business was rotten when it wasn't late spring or summer, which were our big tourist seasons.
It was everyone's busiest time of the year, from the carnies to the bars to the restaurants. People travelled from the surrounding big cities to vacation here-they lounged on our beaches, drank frozen margaritas from the tiki huts and rode the carnival rides set up on the boardwalk just a few yards away from my storefront.
In the great town of Juniper Bay, there was a clear divide. The upper half, nicknamed the Highlands, was fairly snobby and classist - there were a lot of rich families who owned vacation homes there and some who had retired and now lived there year-round.
While I didn't grow up exclusively in Juniper, I had been spending summers here for a majority of my life, traveling back and forth between America and England. My mum was from London, and my dad from Connecticut. He spent his whole life vacationing in the Highlands, as did his father before him and so on. The Highlands always felt like home to me, more so than London ever did, more so than Hartford, where my father owned one of the largest financial consulting firms in the Northeast.
The lower half, right past the Wharf, was nicknamed the Wasteland by all the people in the Highlands. It was a lot of blue collar workers, those who did hard labor that the snobs on the other side of town refused to do. The Wasteland wasn't a terrible place to live, it just wasn't anywhere near as nice as the Highlands.
Moving to the Wasteland was a big choice for me, one that my father and Jessie didn't support and had been giving me hell about since it happened last year. It hadn't been an easy decision for me - moving to the shittier side of town just to be able to afford my own business.
My entire life had been set since the day I was born. I was supposed to go to college, go into my dad's business, become the next CEO when he retired, get married to Jessica and have little perfect babies and a dog or two. It was all laid out for me and I was expected to follow the rules, do as I was told, lead the life they all wanted for me.
But then the accident happened and my entire life changed. There was no going back, now.
I untied my dark apron as I finished up the bouquet I was assembling for a husband who called earlier, looking to pick something up for his wife for their anniversary. I admired my work, holding it out for Buffy to look at as well.
"What do you think? Very pink, innit?" I commented, wrinkling up my nose.
"It's gorgeous. The pops of orange are very nice. Looks like a sunset." She replied, hopping back down off the counter and turning to face me, "You and Jess fighting again?"
"How did you know?" I asked dryly, starting to wrap the bouquet in some paper.
"Oh, I dunno, maybe because you two fight every second of the day and are generally miserable together." She said sarcastically, grinning at me as she dug her hand into the bowl of individually wrapped mints by my register.
I swatted at her hand, but she was successful in retrieving a mint anyways, which she waved in my face like a child before unwrapping it and popping it between her glossy lips.
"We aren't miserable together, we're just..." I trailed off, breathing out a sigh through my nostrils and shaking my head.
"Unhappy? Bored? Tired? I still prefer 'miserable'. I think it explains things best." Buffy rolled her eyes, shaking her own head at me, "I'm not going to have this argument with you again. It always ends the same. I get it, you're attached to her, you've been with her since you both hit puberty, her dad is in business with yours... whatever. She's still wrong for you."
"And I assume you know exactly what is right for me?" I asked with a scoff, turning to look at her.
"Yeah, someone with a personality would be a start." She mumbled, letting her eyes trail toward the front window of my shop, where two men were loading a large sign from their truck, "Sign is here. Maybe that will give us a hint. I hope it's another flower shop so you lose your goddamn mind."
"You're a dick. What does it say?" I asked, moving toward the window, "Good... what's the second word? That idiot is blocking it."
Buffy followed me to the window, peering out, and we both tilted our heads to try and read the sign that was being carted toward the shop next door. She began to laugh, a cackle that I was used to, when a third man followed out of the truck carrying a large box with a label on the side claiming it held 100 "cock rings". My eyes widened at the words and my skin flushed.
"The sign says Good Vibrations." Buffy couldn't stop laughing, even as my face turned red and annoyance began to creep up into me.
"It's a sex shop." I huffed out angrily, moving toward the door, shoving it open roughly.
"Harry! Hold on now..." Buffy started to say as she followed behind me, rushing to grab onto my arm and try to stop me from being disruptive.
"A sex shop? Really?! Right on top of my flower shop? The flower shop that I opened because of..." I cut my words off, squeezing my hands into fists as I gestured madly toward the retail space in front of me.
The two men who were putting the sign up stopped and stared at me, looking slightly confused, and then continued to go about their jobs. The sign was neon pink, I could see that even without it being lit up, and I grimaced at the glare I knew the light would give off into the night.
My quiet little corner, my peaceful corner of the Wasteland-it was gone. I had the one spot in this godforsaken place that didn't feel like a tourist's rats nest and now I knew they would be crawling all over the shop next to mine, laughing at the items inside and being fools.
"You are so spoiled. You're not used to having anyone in this space, you'd throw a fit no matter what kind of shop it was. Don't make it about being a sex shop." Buffy mumbled, folding her arms over her chest as she looked up at the store.
"Don't act like the tourists aren't going to eat this shit up. This is going to take business away from me! Who wants to buy flowers after buying... filthy... sex toys?" I lowered my voice on the last two words, not wanting anyone to hear me.
"Quit acting like a virgin." She laughed, moving toward the shop, "Let's go see if we can meet the owner. You should know your neighbors."
Buffy didn't understand my hatred for all things kink related. She didn't know about my trip to New York after the accident, the one that resulted in self-doubt and questioning and confusion. I never told anyone about it. I returned home and I immediately moved on with Jessie and I shoved it away into the back of my mind, refusing to let myself think about it. But now... now with all of these toys right next door... there was no avoiding the memories of leather against my skin and the way that girl smiled as she turned me into someone I never thought I was.
"I'm not going in there." I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest, "And if you go in there, you can leave after you're done."
"Oh my god, are you seriously going to have this tantrum right now? It's just a store, Harry." She groaned, rubbing her forehead as if I was bringing a headache on for her.
A man came out of the store then. He had bright blood red and black mixed hair, an upturned nose and full lips. He was wearing eyeliner, I noticed, and red nail polish on his fingers to match his hair color. He smiled at us and lifted his hand in a half-wave, half-salute.
"You the flower boy?" He asked, his accent thick and familiar to me.
"The flower..." I muttered, scoffing as I nodded my head, "I am, yeah. Harry. You the... sex toy boy?"
The man laughed loudly, clapping his hands in amusement at my quip, but ultimately shook his head.
"I own Pink Couch, the bar down on the other end of the 'walk. This is my best friend's new shop." He said, looking over his shoulder at the men who were adjusting the sign. He watched with a careful eye, ensuring that they did a good job, and then swung back to look at us again.
"I'm Finn. I think you've spent some nights in my bar, love." He extended a hand to Buffy, who placed hers daintily in his. He smiled and kissed her knuckles, maintaining eye contact as he did.
"Buffy. Yeah, I know the Pink Couch well, I've been good friends with your toilet bowl far too many times." She laughed lightly, tilting her head, "There's a bartender... a girl-petite, brunette, feisty..."
"Dani." He smiled warmly in confirmation, nodding, "A close friend of mine."
"Is there any part of her that's interested in women? Because she's..." Buffy trailed off with a whistle and I rolled my eyes.
She had been going on about this bartender for a couple of weeks, since she first spotted her. Begged me to come to the bar and see her, but I refused. I didn't hang out in the Wasteland, I spent all of my time working or holed up in my flat, drinking by myself. I refused to let people see me mingling with the tourists. I still held onto some of my standards.
"Afraid not, pet, but she'll flirt with ya 'till ya fall in love regardless of what genitalia ya got." He smiled again, stepping forward with his eyes on the sign and calling out to the men on ladders, "You're crooked on the left! No, my left. My left! Yeah, you got it now. Perfect. Belly'll be pissed if this isn't right."
I made a face at his mumbling. Did he say Belly? What kind of name is Belly?
"Belly? Is that the owner? Is he around? We were hoping to meet him." Buffy said and Finn cranked his head around to smile at us both.
"Arabella's out running errands. She'll be around tonight. You'll know her when you see her." He gave us both a wave, starting to head back into the shop, "Oh, she's having a launch party on Friday. You both should come!"
"We'll be there! Nice meeting you!" Buffy called out, smiling as she waved.
I reached up to knock her hand down from where it was waving, glaring at her when she looked at me, "We aren't going to that party!"
"Oh my god, Harry. You do know that you live here now, right? You're going to have to start spending time with these people sooner or later, you know how tight this community is and you're already an outsider to them!" She started following me back toward my shop, the bell over the door rattling loudly from how hard I flung the door open.
"I'm doing just fine without knowing anyone here, thanks." I mumbled, moving back around the counter to finish up my last order of the day. I did some quick math in my head, trying to figure out how much of a profit I made today, but it wasn't much. It was never much.
Anger and frustration rose up in me and I knew Buffy could read it on my face, because she pressed her lips together in a straight line and stared me down carefully, not saying a word.
She used to be the kind of friend that would talk me down off my ledge, but she had to stop doing that because I needed it so often lately. I could still remember the sting of her words when she told me she needed to stop mothering me. We didn't talk for a week after that, until I finally realized that she was right.
"Call me later?" She asked, forcing herself not to say anything else, forcing herself not to step in and help me through my shit like she used to.
"Yeah." I mumbled, keeping my eyes down at my hands as they worked to trim stems and arrange the different colored flowers.
The bell rang again as she left, and I watched her turn to the left, knowing she was going to that sex shop again to talk to Finn. I knew she would be interested in working there and I knew it was a perfect fit for her, but I still felt myself getting mad at the idea.
Arabella. Arabella. Arabella. The name repeated in my mind with annoyance, the way that twat Jan Brady once whined about her bigger twat of a sister, Marcia.
Buffy could make nice with the new neighbors all she wanted, but I wouldn't. The sex shop was going to make business worse for me, I could feel it. I just didn't know how much worse it could get than it already was.
Maybe she's a nice girl. Maybe we'll be great friends. My softer side tried to reason with me, and I sighed at the thoughts. I didn't like it-a sex shop being right next to my own, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Maybe she wouldn't be that bad of a neighbor. Maybe her shop would do worse than my own and she'd leave. That would be nice.
I finished my day up early and waited around the shop, just in case I got any walk-in clients. A few older women sniffed around the bouquets displayed outside, but they moved on quickly, and other than that-nobody came in or near the shop. I wondered if it was because I was a Highlander and they all knew it. It took ages for me to start getting customers when I first opened because of that, but after being here a year, I thought everyone would have moved past it.
Summer was approaching, though, and the tourists rarely knew of the year-round rivalry between each side of the Wharf. They were always happy to come in and spend money at my shop. It would just be nice to get a few Wasteland weddings in the off-season to help things along financially.
Locking up my shop, I headed toward the back staircase that led to my flat. I've lived in the flat above my shop since I opened, and not by choice. I would have rather traveled from the Highlands to the Wasteland every day for work, but my father cut me off completely when I told him of my future plans. If I wasn't going into the family business, he didn't want to see me. We rarely spoke these days.
The flat was small, but warm enough to not feel like a stranger's place. I kept things simple, as I didn't want this flat to turn into my forever home and I thought if I got too comfortable, I'd never leave. I didn't want to be a Wastelander forever.
My favorite thing about the flat was the back balcony. I spent a lot of summer nights smoking on it and enjoying the various sounds of the tourists along the boardwalk. What I didn't like about it was that it was so close to the balcony of the flat next door that I could jump over onto it if I wanted to, or they could jump over onto mine.
I looked out the back door that led to the balcony as I walked into my flat, wondering briefly if Finn or Arabella would be occupying the flat above her building as well. I couldn't remember the last time I had a neighbor so close to me. Our shops didn't share a wall, but less than a foot separated the two, and I wasn't sure how thick the walls were. I really wasn't looking forward to having a neighbor, but as I listened for sounds of life next door, I felt my body relax at the silence.
'Maybe a neighbor won't be so bad after all.' I thought to myself, pulling a beer out of my fridge and twisting the top off the bottle with the bottom of my shirt.
As soon as I took a swig, I heard a loud giggle from outside. My balcony door was shut, but the windows were open all around, and I couldn't pinpoint where exactly the sound was coming from. Eyebrows pulling together, I waited and listened more intently.
It was dusk outside, the sky darkening before me as I moved to the back door, peering out at the sky. There was another giggle, followed by the sounds of a loud moan. Something about that moan unlocked a memory in my head and I blinked to get it away.
I reached for the door handle, ready to move out onto the balcony and look down to find the source of the sounds when I saw movement on the balcony next to my own. My eyes flickered over in that direction and settled on a pale neck, exposed to the sky.
A girl about my age sat on the ledge of the balcony, her fingers gripping the railing tightly, her head thrown back. My eyes followed the curve of her throat, watching her chest rise and fall slowly with each breath she let out.
I noticed then that someone was buried between her legs, a tuft of black and red hair stuck up that I recognized as belonging to Finn. His hands had her skirt bunched up around her hips, clutching it tightly, and she pressed her hand against the back of his head. Her fingers urged his face deeper in between her thighs as she rolled her hips forward, desperate for more contact, another moan escaping her lips.
Everything inside of me felt hot, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I was about to yank my eyes away in shame when the girl suddenly lowered her face so I could see it properly. Her eyes shot open and met mine, almost as if she knew I would be standing there.
My heart stopped beating for a moment as I recognized the girl on the balcony. I was thrown into a flashback that made my entire body tense up, remembering the chaotic time in my life when I briefly encountered the woman who was now my new neighbor.
It was a couple of years ago, right after the accident. I was spiraling and looking for trouble, spending time with my old friends from the Highlands. One of them told me about this place in New York that was called Apartment X. He said that it was a elite sex club and it was invite only, with a high membership fee. You had to fill out an extensive questionnaire that my friend filled out on my behalf, submit doctors records and provide proof of being STD free before being invited. That was no problem for me since I had only ever been with Jessie and we always used protection.
My friend was a long time member of the club and told me a few stories about the types of things that went down there, but I had trouble believing such a place truly existed... until I was accepted as a member and went to witness it myself.
Up until that night, I had only ever known my sex life as it was with Jessie, and at the point in time when I went to Apartment X, I had never cheated on her in the ten years we'd been together. That was the one and only time it happened.
I sat on my membership for only a week before I went to Apartment X, expecting to just observe the activities the first night until I felt comfortable participating. I thought I'd toe the water, ease my way into the shallow end, let my body adjust to the temperature of the water.
Then I saw her and I cannonballed. I let the ice cold water shock my system. I never learned her name that night, but now I knew it was Arabella.
My mind ran over the things we did in that dark bedroom. I thought about the things she taught me and the way it felt when she touched me-like I had never experienced being touched before. My stomach lurched at the reality of her living next door to me now. I never thought I'd see her again, especially not here, in my town.
I expected Arabella to freak out when she saw me, the same way I was freaking out at seeing her. I expected her to scramble off the balcony and yank her skirt down, I expected her to call me a pervert for watching her in the dark like a creep, but she didn't do any of those things.
She met my eyes, straight on, eyebrows rising up slightly in recognition. Her eyes softened, and I wondered if she remembered the things we talked about at Apartment X or if she had forgotten me completely.
She gasped and moaned loudly again as Finn continued to eat her out on the balcony. Her lips parted and she slipped her tongue out to wet them carefully, drawing my attention to them. As soon as I looked at her lips, she smirked at me.
My eyes moved from her mouth and back up to her own eyes, locking in a stare with her as she came hard, her body trembling with the impact of it. I remembered feeling her body against mine, trembling in the same way. I remembered the intense things we said to each other in that room. My mind was spinning.
Arabella was the first to tear her eyes away, only so she could squeeze them shut as her orgasm shook through her. Goosebumps covered my arms at the sight, thinking of the way she felt when she came around me. Over and over and over again. We stayed locked in that room for seven hours together.
I squeezed my eyes shut and moved back from the door quickly, snapping out of my haze and feeling shame and anger roll through me all at once.
I pushed that night back so far into the depths of my mind that it almost felt like a dream to me. I told myself it was over with and I'd never have to face it again. I told myself it was a one time mistake and that Jessie would never find out. I told myself I would never have to see that nameless girl again, I'd never have to confront what we did or what I told her. I'd never have to remember the way I felt with her.
But now, she was living next door.