by Heron, Farah
“You good with that, June?” I asked.
“Sure,” Juniper said. “It’s fine, I can go.”
“But—”
“What’s going on?” Rowan asked. “Why wouldn’t June want to go? Actually,” he said to Juniper, “Leanne said today that she thought you were avoiding her.”
Juniper didn’t say anything.
“Juniper doesn’t need to hang out with your friends if she doesn’t want to,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, of course she doesn’t. But Leanne was her friend, too. The three of us were inseparable as kids.” He looked at June again. “Did Leanne do something to upset you?” He glanced at me, no doubt remembering when I’d accused Leanne of being one of the harassers on Juniper’s YouTube.
“No, there’s nothing,” June said emphatically. “It’s fine. I’ll go to Leanne’s. I’m not mad at her.”
“June, you know you can talk to me,” Rowan said.
Juniper shook her head. I thought she might cry.
I put my hand on Rowan’s knee. “Rowan, leave her be.”
“No,” Juniper repeated. “Leanne didn’t do anything wrong.”
“So why are you avoiding her?” Rowan asked.
“Fine, Row.” She closed her eyes and spoke very quietly. “I’m avoiding her to try to get over her.”
Rowan didn’t say anything. The cicadas, crickets, and the bubbling water of the fountain seemed louder when no one was talking. Finally, Rowan spoke. “Why do you need to get over her? You were never under her, were you?” His eyes went comically wide. “Right?”
I stifled a laugh. This family was really my favorite.
Juniper opened her eyes and shrugged. “I had a crush I was dealing with.”
He blew out a puff of air. “Seriously, June? On Leanne?”
“Wait,” I said to June. “Did he not know you were into girls? Did you just come out to your brother?”
“No, he already knows.” She glared at Rowan. “I had a girlfriend when I was thirteen, remember?”
“But you’re my little sister! You’re not supposed to have a crush on my best friend!”
Juniper threw her hands in the air. “I know! I’m trying not to! But y’all keep throwing her in front of me! With that hair . . . and her laugh . . .”
Rowan’s eyes were as big as peonies. I gathered he wasn’t used to thinking of his sister as a sexual being.
“Rowan.” I gave him a sweet look. “Your sister was honest with you about her feelings. Maybe now is not the time to go caveman big brother?”
“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, of course. I can keep this on the down low if you want, June. I won’t tell Leanne—”
“She knows,” June said.
Somehow Rowan’s eyes got even bigger. “She knows? Why hasn’t anyone told me? What did she do . . . she better not have . . . I’m calling her.” He pulled his phone out.
Juniper took the phone from her brother’s hands. “Row, it’s fine. Everything is good. I’ve just been keeping some distance. There is no need for anyone to panic here.”
“Are you sure, June?” Rowan asked. “I can talk to her—”
“Rowan, don’t embarrass your sister,” I said.
Juniper stood, handing her brother back his phone. “Thank you, Tahira. And Row? Forget everything I just said. I’m going to bed.”
She shook her head as if disappointed in herself and went into the house.
“Nice job on the overprotective-brother thing,” I said to Rowan once June was gone.
Rowan still looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “Juniper and Leanne?”
“I have no idea what Leanne is thinking,” I said, “but hypothetically, if they’re both into it, then what’s the problem? Honestly, I kinda ship it.”
“It’s . . .” He frowned. “Little sisters should be aromantic. It would make it easier on the older siblings.”
I snorted. “My little sister has had the same boyfriend since, like, forever, and yet I still manage to form complete sentences. Is this because she likes girls?”
“What? No, of course not. I mean, at least she won’t have to deal with teenage boys, because sometimes we only think about one thing.”
“Teenage girls can be horny, too.” I mean, he had to know that. He’d been dating me for two weeks. We may not have had sex yet, but I couldn’t keep my hands off him.
He cringed. “Can we not use the word ‘horny’ when talking about my sister? Or my best friend, who’s been like a sister to me my whole life?”
I laughed, getting up from my seat on the couch opposite him. I sat on his lap and draped my arms around his neck. “We can talk about something else. Or we can do something else. I doubt Gia will be home anytime soon.”
He laughed, resting his big hands on my hips. “Yeah, let’s.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss on my neck, then urged me off his lap. The garden wasn’t a great make-out spot, considering the windows in Shar’s and his houses.
So we headed into the tiny house, which was proving to be plenty big enough for us. I was pretty sure he wasn’t thinking about anything for the next hour or so except me.
21
FORGET-ME-NOT NIGHT
Rowan drove June, Gia, and me to Leanne’s on Tuesday night, and we all pretended that the awkward conversation from Saturday hadn’t happened. I’d told Gia about it on Sunday, but Rowan and June hadn’t mentioned it at all. Juniper seemed fine in the car. Chatty. Cheerful. Like nothing at all was wrong.
“Hey!” Leanne said as we got out of the car outside the Langston family farmhouse. She was wearing wide-leg jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a rabbit wearing a floral sun hat. She handed June a small bundle of flowers that June quickly slipped into her bag.
I raised a brow at Juniper. What was that about?
The welding with Leanne’s dad went fine. We then did a test run, filling the structure with flowers that Leanne had brought home. They weren’t the exact varieties we wanted to use for the competition, but the lily looked so amazing filled in. And this time it didn’t fall apart. Everything for the Bloom was coming together.
After we thanked Mr. Langston for his help, Leanne took the four of us over to see her rabbits, who lived in hutches in the Langstons’ barn.
I poked my finger in to touch the cute brown one’s head. “These really are some sweet bunnies.”
Leanne pulled a smaller rabbit out of another hutch. “You want a sweet bunny? Look at this baby I just picked up yesterday. His name’s Strawberry. Some moronic family got him for their kids for Easter and already surrendered him to a shelter. Isn’t he the cutest?”
Strawberry was all white with dark-gray smudging around his eyes.
“This bunny does a better smoky eye than I do,” Gia said, scratching the top of the rabbit’s head.
My eyes started watering, so I took a big step back. Even with the new allergy pills, I couldn’t handle rabbits.
“You okay?” June said, joining me at the back of the barn. Gia was now holding Strawberry.
“Yeah. My eyes are a bit scratchy. Hey, what were those flowers Leanne gave you?”
Juniper’s eyes widened. “You saw that?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t see what they were.”
“Forget-me-nots.”
I grinned. “I told you she was into you.”
June sighed, shaking her head. “No. She’s just being nice, as always. She feels bad for hurting me and doesn’t want me to forget our friendship.”
“She said all that with those flowers?”
June shrugged.
I chuckled. June talked a good talk, but I doubted that’s what the flowers meant. Maybe June was scared Leanne was finally making a move on her so close to the summer’s end? June was going to miss Leanne when she left in a few weeks, but if they finally talked about their feelings, it would only be harder.
No matter what, the end of the summer in Bakewell was going to be hard for a lot of us.
&
nbsp; Later, the five of us were sitting on these big boulders that were a couple of yards from the side of the Langstons’ barn watching the sunset. Gia’s phone rang. I was curled up on a boulder with my back against Rowan, listening to him and Leanne talk about packing for uni, and their dorms, when Gia said, “Absolutely not. Not happening. No way.” She wasn’t using that cutesy voice she usually used with Cameron.
I looked at her. She rolled her eyes and held the phone out. “T, Matteo is insisting he needs to talk to you.”
Matteo. Ugh. Why was he reemerging now? As far as I knew, Gia hadn’t heard from him for weeks. Most days I blissfully forgot he even existed.
Rowan tensed behind me. I put my hand on his knee.
“I’m not interested in speaking to him, G.”
“That’s what I told him. But he said to tell you it’s not because he wants you to get back with him or anything. He has some game-changing opportunity to talk to you about. He says it’s, like, urgent.”
I still didn’t want to talk to him. Rowan squeezed my hand. I knew what it meant—that he wouldn’t stop me or be upset with me if I chose to hear the guy out. That Rowan trusted me. And that’s why I took the phone from Gia—because it wasn’t going to change anything at all between me and the guy I was sitting with. And honestly, I was curious what my ex had to say.
“Hello?” I said into Gia’s phone.
“Tahira!” Matteo said. I couldn’t help the goose bumps forming. It was so weird to hear his voice again.
“Yes, Matteo.”
“Oh man, it’s so good to talk to you. How’ve you been, babe? I’ve barely had the time to get any new content for my channels. I see you haven’t posted anything interesting, either.”
Okay, so he was still checking my social? Also, like, a week ago I posted those pictures of me and Rowan—he didn’t find those interesting?
I sighed. This was a bad idea. I didn’t want to be playing whatever game Matteo was playing. I patted Rowan’s leg, then hopped off the big rock and went toward the barn for privacy. “What do you want, Matteo.”
“Man, don’t be cold like that. It’s been ages, and I get a ‘What do you want’?”
The goose bumps went to anger. “What do you mean, ‘It’s been ages’? Your sidepiece couldn’t keep you warm in my absence?”
He was silent for a few seconds. Then I heard him exhale. “I’m sorry, I deserved that. I told Gia . . . Alyssa’s out of the picture.”
“I don’t care even a little bit. What do you want?”
“I don’t think you’ll be so cold when you hear the amazing news I have for you.”
Everyone was watching me. Rowan looked worried, so I gave him a reassuring smile. “What?” I asked.
“Dasha Payne is coming to Toronto.”
“Why should I care?”
“C’mon, T, Dasha Payne! From the DashStyle blog? From LA?”
“I know who Dasha Payne is.” I hadn’t been reading her blog lately, and I’d stopped doing those weekly indie design challenges since I had no new designs to post and had been avoiding anything that reminded me of Matteo. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“She just DMed me. She’s doing a series on the hottest style cities in North America, and she wants to interview us.”
“‘Us’ as in . . .”
“Tahira, she wants to interview you and me. She’s, like, doing this big photo shoot with a bunch of designers, models, and style influencers, but then she’s going to do profiles on some of the hottest names from the photo shoot. She wants you and me. As the #TorontoPowerCouple.”
“We’re not a couple anymore.”
“Tahira, just listen—Dasha is huge. Like, a million viewers huge. She practically discovered Angel Torres.”
I exhaled. I didn’t need to be told about Dasha’s influence. I took my phone out of my pocket to pull up DashStyle’s Insta. It had well over a million followers.
“We don’t have to actually be a couple,” Mateo continued. “She didn’t even know we’d dated, only that we’d collaborated a lot. I asked her if I could bring Gia to the big shoot—and she said sure, as long as me and you were there. There’s a big party Saturday night, too.”
“When exactly is all this?”
“The big photo shoot is Friday. Then she’s doing all the interviews in the city on Saturday. We have the time slot after lunch—she wants us to take her shopping on Queen Street during our interview. They’ll have a camera crew following us, both for stills and video. Her team is getting the permits sorted out now. The party is Saturday night, at this swank rooftop bar that has a pool. Everyone who is everyone will be there.”
I closed my eyes. The Bloom was Saturday. The plan was to all go to the nursery and pick the flowers to use on Friday. Then, of course, we had to be on the festival grounds by eight on Saturday for the actual competition.
“Can I just do the Friday part?”
“There’d be no point. The profile is the big deal. There’ll be a whole article about us on her site.”
“I can’t this weekend. It’s the Bloom. I told you . . . that flower sculpture competition I was entering?”
“Jesus, Tahira—this is bigger than any flower-arranging contest. Others would kill for an opportunity like this. This is the big leagues. The break we’ve both been waiting for.”
I glanced over at my friends sitting on those massive rocks. They were still all looking at the horizon. The sun had painted the sky orange and pink and was casting a golden hue over the endless fields around the property.
“Tahira,” Matteo said emphatically. “Think about what’s important. A rooftop party with the biggest names in fashion in the city. Not flower arranging in butt-fuck nowhere. This is your dream.”
Was it? I didn’t even know. I exhaled long. “I can’t let down my friends.”
“Yeah. Your friends are Gia and I. We can’t do this if you don’t, and you’ve known us a lot longer. Think about it tonight—I’m calling you tomorrow morning for your answer. Unblock my number, okay?”
I disconnected the call. This timing sucked so bad. I leaned against the barn to think. Should I stay for the Bloom? Or would this DashStyle thing be a better use of my time to get my dream? Because this was my dream we were talking about—the dream that I’d had since the beginning of time. The Plan was my path to succeed, and everything I did was supposed to serve the Plan.
Entering the Bloom was for the Plan, but it was a sort of Plan B. This Dasha thing was closer to my original Plan A.
But it wasn’t just about the Plan anymore; it was also about my friends. How could I leave Juniper and Rowan? They would never forgive me if I left the Bloom team.
I looked over at the breathtaking sunset over the farmers’ fields, and at my new friends, who’d come to mean the world to me. Was all this something I was willing to give up? Even for the Plan?
22
SOFT EYES AND HARD CHOICES
I didn’t give my friends details about what Matteo had said—just that he’d wanted to run an opportunity by me, but it wasn’t that important. Rowan looked doubtful, but he didn’t pry. So I climbed up on the rock next to him, put my arm around his waist and my head on his shoulder, and watched the rest of the sunset with my boyfriend and friends, all while trying my best to forget the decision I needed to make later.
It was pretty late when we finally packed up our things to leave. As we were getting into Rowan’s car, Juniper said, “I can’t believe it’s already Tuesday, and the Bloom’s in four days. Do we need another meeting before Friday?”
“I don’t think so,” Rowan said. “I don’t anticipate a problem—now that the frame is welded.”
“Thanks for getting your dad to help us,” I said to Leanne.
Leanne smiled. “No need to thank me. You guys are in great shape. Honestly, you’re way more prepared than we were last year. You three”—she looked at me, Rowan, and Juniper—“are a powerhouse. I’m only sorry I won’t get to be there with you.”
She glanced briefly at Gia, who of course had her face in her phone, and rolled her eyes.
I knew what Leanne was thinking. When we’d agreed to this, Gia had seemed so committed to the Bloom. She’d wanted to meet Christopher Chan as much as I did. That was before she met Cameron, but that shouldn’t have mattered, should it? All this hard work that Rowan, June, and I were doing was going to benefit Gia, too, if we won.
It wasn’t the first time Gia had flaked like this. I loved Gia and her enthusiasm and her cheering me on, but she wasn’t the most reliable person. I had always known this about my friend, and it had never bothered me before. Now, it was annoying.
But who was I to get mad at Gia for half-assing her contribution to the Bloom? I was right now thinking of dropping out altogether. And I’d be taking Gia with me if I left. Talk about flaking.
We said goodbye to Leanne, and Gia had Rowan drop her off at Cameron’s on the way home (no surprise there). Once the three of us were alone in the car, Rowan asked, “So, June, that was okay?”
“Yeah, it was fine, why?”
His gaze was on the road in front of him. “Nothing. Just . . . I want you to be happy. I know things will be tough in September. Let me know anything I can do for you.” He was such a good brother. He was such a great person.
He was so different from Matteo. Rowan did respect my success, just like Matteo did, but he didn’t sit around wondering how he could leverage my success for his benefit, like Matteo did. Like Matteo was still trying to do. Obviously, he only wanted me to do this Dasha Payne thing to advance his platform, not mine. Matteo wanted those millions of followers looking at him.
But even though I knew I was being used, I was still sort of grateful that Matteo’s legwork this summer had opened up this opportunity for me. I’d spent the summer flower arranging and getting lost in Rowan’s eyes. I’d been neglecting my social media platform.
I googled “Dasha Payne” on my phone from the back seat of Rowan’s car. She’d been a successful Instagram model and urban lifestyle influencer for a while, but she’d really catapulted into internet fame in the last six months or so. She got a ridiculous number of hits on her blog posts, her sponsorships were numerous and valuable, and her famous friends were influential.