Tahira in Bloom

by Heron, Farah

  I looked at Rowan, but he just shrugged. Was it possible that Addison’s mother was also commenting on June’s YouTube? I exhaled. And . . . now that I thought about it, that day at Hyacinth’s when Addison bugged June to help her with her Bloom team, it was her mother who’d pushed Addison to talk to us. Mrs. McLaughlin clearly wanted her daughter in the limelight.

  I shook my head. We weirdly had a lot in common. “I’ll get the moss in a bit. Let’s get the rest of these begonias in.”

  30

  AND IT ENDS WITH TULIPS

  After that drama had faded, we got back to our sculpture. Covering the stand with moss worked fine. Personally, I liked it better with the metal base than this weird furry green, but whatever. The dress itself was coming along perfectly, and from the looks of it, we were ahead of the other contestants, timing wise.

  Soon, the festival opened to the public, and spectators started wandering through the Bloom grounds. They didn’t really bother us—most people who came to our station just asked a few polite questions about what we were making and then moved on. My parents and Samaya eventually showed up, each with large tote bags in their hands.

  “I love country festivals,” Mom said. She pulled something out of her bag. “Look at this apron I found!”

  The apron was navy with a floral print and a large llama on it, along with the words NO PROBLLAMA. I groaned. One day in Bakewell, and she was all into puns. She was going to love Rowan.

  I finally introduced Rowan to my parents, and they subjected him to a full desi-parent interrogation with questions like What do your parents do? Where are you going to university? What are you studying? What are your goals after school? He of course passed with flying colors, just like I knew he would. They must have remembered when I told them yesterday that I didn’t think the relationship would last, though, because they skipped the “What are your intentions with my daughter?” questions, thankfully.

  “This is quite beautiful,” Dad said, pointing at the sculpture. “I think yours is the best we’ve seen here.”

  Samaya grinned. “I’m totally taking credit for the dress idea.”

  “Are you taking pictures of it for your Instagram?” Mom asked.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’ve been too busy building it.”

  Samaya gasped dramatically.

  “I’ll take some,” Mom said. “Turn around, Tahira; there’s a dirt stain on that side of you. Don’t you have a clean shirt?”

  I groaned.

  After some pictures, Mom and Dad started talking about the other competitions in the festival. “The floral arrangement contest had some lovely pieces,” Mom said. “Reminded me of the ikebana class I took when I was in school. Rowan, I was surprised that you didn’t enter your garden in the Best Garden contest. Your yard is much nicer than the pictures I saw of the winners.”

  Rowan shrugged. “It never occurred to me to enter. I only wanted to do the Bloom.”

  “Well,” Mom said. “It’s good you have Tahira now because she’ll help you strategize which opportunities can help with your long-term—”

  “Mom,” I interrupted. I needed to get my family off the Bloom grounds. “Can I walk you back out to the festival? We really need to finish this.”

  Miraculously, they agreed, and I walked them to the front of the field.

  “Did you call the bookstore for that book?” I asked once we were out of hearing range from the others.

  Mom shook her head. “I tried, but the person in charge of the signing wasn’t in yet. I’ll try again later.”

  “Okay. Let me know when you have it confirmed. Leanne’s going to kill me if June doesn’t get the book.”

  Samaya’s eyes brightened. “Are those two dating? Because Leanne was totally looking at Juniper with gaga eyes.”

  “No . . . at least I don’t think so. But . . . they are . . . something.”

  “Adorable. I’m shipping them.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “We all are. I need to go. Talk to you guys later.”

  I waved goodbye and went back to my team.

  The loudspeaker letting us know our time was up sounded just as I was adding some final golden grasses to the bodice. I put my hands down and took a breath. We were done.

  The sculpture wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn good. Actually, it was spectacular.

  Arms came around me. Rowan. I leaned back, wedging my head between his neck and shoulder. “You did it, Tahira.”

  “We did it,” I corrected him.

  He kissed the side of my neck, and I closed my eyes. “We’re a great team,” he whispered.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Bloom contestants and spectators were banished from the Bloom grounds so the judges could deliberate. We were told to wander around the rest of the festival and come back in one hour, at 2:00 p.m., when they would announce the winners.

  “Okay, what now? Funnel cake?” Leanne asked, clearly still hyped up on adrenaline. She did not need funnel cake.

  My sister came toward us, a clear plastic tray of mini Bakewell tarts in her hand. “Have you guys tried these things? They’re phenomenal!”

  I chuckled, taking a tart. The others did the same.

  Samaya turned to me. “Mom just called the bookstore again, and they’re not doing personalized signing unless you’re in the store. She needs to know if you want her to order a nonpersonalized one.” She put another tart in her mouth.

  Oh no. Juniper wasn’t going to get her signed book. My heart sank. I felt terrible.

  I frowned at Leanne. “I’m so sorry.”

  Leanne crossed her arms on her chest. She didn’t look impressed with me. Honestly, I didn’t blame her. This was completely my fault.

  “What book?” June asked.

  “Oh,” Samaya said, “they were trying to get this signed book for you.” She grinned at me. I suspected she’d brought this up in front of June just to see what would happen with Leanne.

  June blinked. “You were getting me a book?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I was supposed to go to that signing for the Silverborn book while I was in Toronto. But since I ended up coming back here, my mom was going to buy it over the phone and have it mailed. I’m so sorry. I know you wanted that book.”

  Rowan, who had no idea what any of this was about, still defended me. “It’s not your fault.”

  I shook my head. “No, it is. Leanne was planning to go to Toronto to get it, but I told her I’d do it if she took my place in the Bloom. But then I waffled and came back, and now June can’t have the personalized book.” I sighed, looking at my feet. “I haven’t been a good friend to any of you this summer. I kept putting myself first, even though y’all have been so great to me.”

  “Tahira!” June said, shaking her head. “Don’t you even. Do you think I’d rather have a signed book than you here for the Bloom? You’ve been a great friend! You’ve taught me about fashion, and merchandising, and I had the best summer ever because you were here!” She gave me a hug. Pulling back, she smiled. “I don’t even care if the book is personalized! I really just wanted one of the limited editions with the silver foil on the eyes. They’re only available on this book tour. I don’t know why I didn’t think to just call in to buy one—”

  “Wait,” I interrupted. “Did you say silver foil on the eyes?”

  June raised a brow. “Um, yeah, the main character in the Silverborn books has silver eyes. You really should read them. I know urban fantasy’s not your thing, but—”

  “Oh my God.” I pulled out my phone. “Give me a second. I need to make a quick call.”

  Rowan raised his brow at me. I smiled at him reassuringly while the phone rang.

  “Hi, Kayla,” I said when my neighbor picked up.

  “Tahira! Did you get that last drawing I sent you? Evan hasn’t taken the pencil crayons you gave me, so I did so much shading! They are so much better than the ones I used to—”

  “Kayla, we can catch up later. I kno
w this sounds super weird, but where are you right now?”

  “I’m at a bookstore waiting in line to have the next Lexi Greer book signed. Why?”

  I grinned huge. “Awesome! That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Any chance you could grab an extra copy for my friend? I’ll pay you back for the book.”

  Kayla was with her mother, who took the phone. I explained everything to Kayla’s mom, asking her if she could have Lexi Greer sign the book to Juniper Johnston. I promised I’d e-transfer her the money right away, and I’d babysit Kayla’s brother if she’d mail the book to Juniper.

  I smiled as I hung up the phone. “There. She’ll get the personalized book mailed off to you as soon as possible.”

  Juniper did a little happy dance, then hugged me again. Leanne smiled.

  “So, no hard feelings, Leanne?” I asked.

  “No hard feelings, Tahira,” she said. “Junebug gets the book. And we all got to be in the Bloom.”

  June suddenly turned to Leanne, tilting her head. “Wait, did Tahira say you were going to go all the way to Toronto just to get me a book?”

  Leanne shrugged. “I mean, I would have preferred we went together. That would have been a much better first date, don’t you think?”

  June’s eyes widened. “Better first date than what?”

  “Better than burgers at Henry’s on Main last night?” Leanne said, slowly.

  Samaya snorted behind me, so I elbowed her to shush.

  June’s hand shot to her mouth. “Was that a date? That wasn’t a date!” She looked panicked. I wondered if I should step in to help her somehow. “That was just burgers! We’re friends! We ate hamburgers! And we made T-shirts. We’re not dating! You told me in December that you didn’t see me that way!”

  Leanne stared at June for a few seconds, then let out an exasperated sigh and stepped closer to her, eyes focused on June’s shell-shocked face. “Juniper Jessica Johnston, I’m going to be super clear now,” she said. “You’re right, I didn’t feel this way in December. I do now.” She took June’s cheeks in her hands and paused, looking into June’s eyes. “Was that clear enough for you? Or, how’s this: May I kiss you right now?”

  June’s eyes got even wider, but she let out a quiet, clear yes.

  And Leanne planted a kiss on Juniper’s lips.

  I squeezed my hands together, trying really hard not to clap.

  June’s lip was trembling when Leanne pulled away. “You really want to date me?” June asked.

  Leanne smiled again. “I’ve been trying to show you that all summer. You haven’t made it easy. But maybe we should actually talk now?”

  June nodded, still staring into Leanne’s face. Leanne took June’s hand in hers and waved at the rest of us with her other hand. “Catch up with y’all later!” she said, pulling June away from the Bloom grounds. June didn’t even look back.

  Samaya sighed happily. “Tahira, you need to do fan art of those two.”

  I laughed and looked at Rowan to see what he was thinking about his sister and best friend possibly, finally, figuring themselves out. He was also smiling. “I can’t tell if they will have the most stable or the most chaotic relationship ever,” he said.

  I raised a brow. “And you’re okay with it?”

  He nodded. “I’m okay with it. I was the one who pushed Leanne to ask June out last night. Of course, I assumed she would do it in a way that would make it clearer to June what was going on.” He laughed again and put his arm around my waist.

  “Well,” Samaya said. “I was a fifth wheel; now I’m a third. I’ll go find Mom and Dad. Catch you later.”

  She disappeared toward the vendor area of the fair.

  Rowan tightened his arm around me. “Can we talk now, too, Tahira?” he asked. “Alone? We can walk over to the midway . . .”

  The fair was busy by now, and the midway was really hopping. Rowan bought a container of s’mores doughnuts—fresh mini doughnuts covered with marshmallow cream, chocolate sauce, and graham cracker crumbs. We sat on the grass overlooking the famous spinning-flower ride. It was pretty much identical to the spinning-teacups ride at every amusement park, but with flowers instead of teacups.

  “These are good,” I said, about the doughnuts. “They remind me of this barbecue place my dad likes in Toronto that has little doughnuts. They even make a milkshake with blended doughnuts in it.”

  He made a face.

  I laughed. “It’s surprisingly good.”

  He was quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the food, then grinned at me. “You looking forward to going back for good?”

  “To Toronto?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I shrugged. “I guess. I’m not not excited, but . . .” I sighed. “I think the whole photo shoot scared me. The people were so insufferable.”

  “But you don’t need to see those people again.”

  “I know. But . . . they weren’t really different from how those kinds of people always are. I’m afraid I’ll find what I used to love insufferable now.”

  “Do you think you’re a different person?”

  “That’s probably what you want me to say, right? That I’m not the same old Thirst Trap I used to be?”

  He cringed. “I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”

  “No. That’s just it. You weren’t wrong.” I sighed. “Sometimes I get so focused on a goal that I get tunnel vision. And this summer, I forgot to see that bigger picture. Forgot to step back and really look at what’s important to me. Art means more to me than anything. Not chasing fame. Not even recognition, or being on top. I need to be around artists who see the big picture, so I don’t lose sight of that again.”

  He smiled warmly. He was the artist I wanted to spend my time with. I took another bite of doughnut.

  “What about you?” I asked. “You’ll be in Toronto soon, too. How are you feeling about that?”

  He exhaled long. “I have a confession. Or I should say, an explanation—for why I was so terrible to you when we met.”

  I shook my head. “You weren’t really, but okay.”

  “I was . . . I am . . . terrified of moving to Toronto.”

  I shook my head. “You? No. You’re not scared of anything. And you’ve been there loads of times.”

  “I’ve never lived there. I’ve visited lots of big cities because my parents didn’t want us only seeing our own backyard, but I’ve never lived anywhere but here. Every time I’ve been in Toronto, it’s just been so . . . much. There are people everywhere. The subway is confusing. Everyone is dressed better than me, and they all seem so cool. People have loads of friends, and they always say the right things. Remember when you said I beat to my own drum? What if I never fit in there? What if people think I’m weird—”

  “Toronto is going to love you, Rowan.” I might love him, and I was Toronto.

  He shrugged.

  “But I get it,” I said. “Honestly, I’m scared, too. Because I’ve just realized I may not fit into the world that’s so important to me like I used to.”

  I’d changed. How was I going to deal with the fashion show committee, and my photo shoots, and my Instagram when I got back? Or would I even bother with those things anymore? Could I do them, but more casually? Maybe just for fun instead of always trying to be the best?

  But this conversation wasn’t about my insecurities right now.

  I took his hand. “So you were mad that I showed up in your life representing everything you were anxious about in the city,” I said. “And I was shallow, and judgmental, and superficial. No wonder you hated me.”

  He swallowed. “No. That’s just it. I was anxious about moving until I met you. You represented everything I love about the city. Ambition. Art. Culture. Breathtaking beauty. You reminded me that I needed all that in my life, and that little bit of discomfort when something is new is worth it. I never hated you. You drove me nuts a little bit, but I admired you so much.”

  I didn’t even know what to say. He was the
breathtaking one.

  He fed me a mini doughnut with his fork. “My own backyard is comfortable, but I’m ready to move on.” He sighed. “But for the last two days, I’ve been convinced this relationship wouldn’t work in the city. You’ll be so far ahead of me there, and I have no intention of asking you to stop to let me catch up.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I need to slow down a bit, anyway.” I exhaled. “Do you still think this won’t work?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think I even have a choice. I’m going to keep crashing into you, Tahira. I have since the day we met. Last night when you said you were coming back, I wanted to establish boundaries because I didn’t want to get hurt. That went out the window as soon as I saw your new Bloom design. Your art, your passion, your brilliance. I will always be drawn to the brightest light in the universe. It’s inevitable. I’m just hoping you want it as much as I do.”

  Oh. My eyes welled up. My sweet, sensitive Plant-Boy. I took his head in my hands and kissed his forehead.

  “You and I are the most determined people I know,” I whispered. “We can make this work if we want it.”

  His face was inches from mine. He smelled like marshmallows and chocolate, and he was wearing jorts and a soil- and moss-stained T-shirt covered with flowers and the letters BFF. He was perfect.

  “I want it,” he said before kissing me briefly.

  I wanted more, but of course I couldn’t make out in front of a novelty carnival ride. My parents were at this festival somewhere. I squeezed his hand, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes.

  In a million years, I couldn’t have imagined that this would be how my summer in Bakewell would end. With this amazing, kissable guy who inspired me to create more, appreciate more, and be the best me I could be.

  “So, we’re still going to be a thing, then? Totally exclusive, even in Toronto?” he asked, touching my cheek.

  I nodded. “This summer fling just got a major upgrade.” I smiled goofily, because how could I not?