Petal Plucker

by Iris Morland

  It was easier, I knew, to keep everything inside of me instead of risking more heartbreak. Besides, I was busy.

  “This conversation really isn’t passing the Bechdel test,” I said. “We need to talk about our careers. Feminism. The male gaze. The pros and cons of hybrid vehicles. Something.”

  “David just bought a new hybrid.”

  I groaned. As I looked at Mari through my fingers, I noticed the plastic button sitting on Mari’s bedside table. There was another one on the other side, too. They looked like something out of a game. I went over and picked one up, flipping it over.

  “Is this a light?” I pressed it, but it didn’t do anything.

  “Don’t touch that!” Mari was beet-red and grabbed the button from me.

  “What, did I just press the button to launch nuclear warheads?”

  “Worse.” Mari moaned. “You just told David I want to have sex with him.”

  It was such an absurd answer that I started laughing, thinking she was kidding, when I quickly realized she wasn’t. She glared at me so hard that I could feel a hole in my shirt burning.

  “I’m so confused,” I said.

  She lifted her chin. “It’s none of your business, but David isn’t so great about initiating love-making. He found these buttons that we use instead. If a person wants to have sex, they hit the button. But if the other person doesn’t, no one is rejected.”

  My lip wobbled from trying not to laugh like a crazy person. Mari looked so serious about talking about these sex buttons that I had to chew on the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. “You can’t just tell each other?” I croaked.

  “You wouldn’t understand because you’ve never dated anyone.” Mari’s words were like a whiplash.

  I reared backward, stung. “Maybe not, but I know that in an adult relationship, you use your words. Not some plastic buttons.”

  Mari’s anger faded as soon as it had emerged. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She set the button down, her expression abashed. “It’s embarrassing, isn’t it? I wish we had the type of sex life where David just threw me over his shoulder and had his wicked way with me.”

  I didn’t really want to have this conversation about my sister’s sex life, but she seemed so forlorn now, sitting on her bed, that I couldn’t not help her in some way.

  “I think you really should talk to him,” was my only answer.

  “I have. He tells me that I reject him too much.” She wrinkled her nose. “I only tell him no because I’m exhausted from work, or I’m on my period, or he’s sweaty from his stupid Pilates class—”

  “So it’s more of a timing issue.”

  “Exactly. This way, we can get over that issue but nobody’s feelings are hurt.”

  I searched her face. “Mari, why are you marrying him? He’s basically the human equivalent of cardboard.”

  I knew I’d overstepped when her eyes sparked with rage. Standing up, she said, “He is not. He’s a good man. And you don’t get to lecture me about my life, considering you make out with guys who then totally ghosts on you.”

  “Then don’t ask me my advice!”

  “Did I say I needed your advice?”

  We didn’t hear the bedroom door creak open until Kate said, “If you guys are going to beat each other up, there’s more room in the living room than in here.”

  I stared at Kate; Mari stared at Kate; Mari and I stared at each other. Then I said, “Katherine Lydia, were you listening at the door?”

  Kate shrugged. “You guys were getting loud.” She went over to the nightstand and began to hit the other button, grinning like the evil brat she was. “If you hit the button a bunch of times in a row, does that mean you want to do anal?”

  Mari blushed scarlet. I started laughing so hard I was crying.

  And Kate just said, “Well, it’s a valid question.”

  Chapter Ten

  The second time I fell in love with Jacob, I was thirteen.

  That isn’t to say I’d fallen out of love with him at any point between five and thirteen. It was just that he gave me another reason to love him. It was like he kept adding dandelions to my pile of love for him and then metaphorically making me tons of flower crowns with them.

  By eighth grade, Jacob was the golden boy of our junior high. He was, literally, golden: golden hair, golden skin. Every time he smiled, his teeth sparkled like out of some toothpaste commercial. I swear a theme song played in my head anytime he walked past me—that theme song being the saxophone solo from “Careless Whisper.” Every. Damn. Time. I heard that stupid saxophone in my brain when I saw Jacob.

  “Do you think he ever smells bad?” I asked Anna.

  It was two days before Valentine’s Day, aka the worst day ever when you didn’t have a boyfriend. Which was me. I had no boyfriend. Not even Tommy would date somebody like me, and that was saying something. I was all frizzy hair and braces and my locker had plants growing inside it. Apparently, boys didn’t think that was cool.

  Anna wrinkled her nose. “He’s a boy. I’m sure his room smells like sweaty balls.” Considering Anna had two older brothers, she was probably right, but I wanted to believe he never so much as farted. He was perfect. He could do nothing wrong.

  “Why don’t you tell him you like him for once?” said Anna. She raised a black eyebrow. Already curvy, Anna was womanly where I was the opposite. She said she hated it, because it gave her more attention than she wanted. I told her it couldn’t be worse than being as flat as a board like me.

  It was one of the many things we commiserated on, along with how dumb boys were, how cute boys were, and how annoying it was when Mrs. Turner spit when she got really excited about geometric proofs. Anna and I imagined that Mrs. Turner went home and wrote sonnets to her favorite proofs, along with odes to parallelograms. She really had a thing for those, too.

  “Why would I tell him that I liked him?” I slammed my locker door shut. “He’s just going to say no. So what’s the point?”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Considering Jacob’s last girlfriend was Tiffany McClain (yes, that Tiffany)—a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls in school—the likelihood of Jacob wanting to date me was laughable.

  “Jacob’s nice,” insisted Anna as we walked to class. “He’s not like the other guys.”

  I sighed. No, Jacob was nice—too nice. He held doors open for girls; he made sure everyone was invited to his parties. I was pretty sure he wasn’t actually a human boy, because every other one I’d met was smelly, rude, and liked to draw penises on the back of your neck during class.

  Right then, I saw Jacob walking toward his locker. He had study hall this period—yes, I knew his schedule; no, it wasn’t creepy—and he nodded at me and Anna. I ducked my head and avoided eye contact as I scuttled to class.

  Jacob West was never going to give me a necklace at a birthday party. I had accepted that. It was fine. I was a dandelion amongst roses and lilies and I couldn’t change that anymore than you could change the species of a flower.

  “Hey, Dani, wait up,” called Jacob. He jogged up to us. He pushed his bangs from his forehead and smiled that damn smile. I heard “Careless Whisper” playing in my mind. When he brushed his hair from his face, I always saw it in slow motion.

  Oh God, was he going to ask me to be his valentine? Was Anna right? My heart thudded in my chest, and blood rushed to my cheeks.

  I felt Anna elbow me. “Dani, did you hear him? Do you have the notes for World History?”

  Jacob smiled apologetically. “I missed it since we had an away game. I know you take the best notes out of everyone.”

  He wanted my notes. Of course he wanted my notes. He wasn’t going to be giving me chocolate and balloons and a teddy bear. Scrambling inside my binder, I pulled out my very meticulous notes and handed them to him. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “You’re the coolest. Thanks.”

  Anna frowned at his retreating
figure. “You guys used to be friends. Like, you played together. I remember I’d find you playing in his backyard.”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  She shrugged. “Just wondered what happened.”

  “We grew up. That’s all.”

  The next day, I braced myself. Pink and red balloons were taped to lockers, while I heard girls giggle as they ripped open valentines. When I got to my locker, I was shocked to see a valentine taped to it. I peeled it off, squinting at the handwriting. Had Anna gotten me one?

  “What’s that?” said Anna over my shoulder.

  Well, never mind that assumption. I opened the small, white envelope to find a pink ladybug card inside. In sparkly letters, it read I’m buggy for you! Turning over the card, I saw the words I’d dreamed about for so long but had never imagined would happen.

  Dani, you’re a cool girl. I like you. Come sit with me at lunch. Jacob.

  I let out such a loud squeal that Anna clapped her hands over her ears.

  “Look! He likes me!” I shoved the card into Anna’s face.

  She took it, read it, her eyes widening. “Wow.”

  I leaned against my locker, sighing with happiness. I took the card from Anna and kissed it before placing it in a safe spot on the top shelf, where my latest plant was also growing. It was a philodendron that didn’t mind the darkness of an eighth grader’s locker.

  “I can’t believe it. Do you really think he sent you this?” said Anna.

  “Seriously?” I slammed my locker closed. “Weren’t you the one telling me to confess my feelings?”

  “Yeah, I mean…” She nibbled on her lower lip. “It just…doesn’t seem like him, that’s all.”

  I didn’t care. Jacob West liked me, and I was going to sit with him at lunch. Maybe we’d hold hands between classes. My heart flipped inside my chest at the thought. It was too good to be true—but I wanted it to be true so badly that I didn’t want to consider any other possibility.

  I had only one class with Jacob before lunch. I sat in the back, so I could only stare at him longingly. He didn’t look my way, which I attributed to him wanting to keep things on the down-low until lunch. I was fine with that. I’d rather make a splashy announcement where everyone could see us.

  When lunch arrived, I entered the cafeteria with sweaty palms and a racing heart. The cafeteria was packed with students, the smells of chicken nuggets and burnt microwavable lunches filling the air. I wasn’t even hungry.

  “There’s Jacob,” I whispered to Anna.

  “Wait, Dani—”

  I didn’t hear her. I pushed past a group of seventh graders, making a beeline to Jacob’s usual table. I watched him for a moment with his guy friends. He was laughing at something someone said, his head tipped back. He’d just gotten his braces off and his perfectly straight teeth made him seem older, more mature.

  “Jacob,” I said breathlessly. There was just enough space to his left that I managed to slip in and sit next to him. “Hi,” was all I could manage.

  The boys across from me looked at each other in confusion. I never sat with them. The only people who sat at this table were Jacob, his guy friends, and whichever girl Jacob was dating.

  But I was now that girl. Finally.

  “What are you doing?” Connor Hall asked me. “Are you lost?”

  Next to him, Kenny Martin snorted and coughed out a laugh.

  A blush climbed up my cheeks, but I ignored them. I took the valentine from my pocket and said shyly, “I got your card. Thank you.”

  Confusion clouded Jacob’s face. He looked at the card in my hand and said, “What?”

  Fear congealed in my gut. Kenny and Connor started laughing across from me. Across the cafeteria, I saw Tiffany smile at me, but it wasn’t a nice smile. She and her friends were watching us, and they kept giggling.

  They’d pranked me, I realized. Jacob had never sent me a valentine. They’d just wanted to mess with me. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was about to get up and find the nearest bathroom to cry in, when Jacob said, “Oh, right. You’re welcome, Dani.” He slung an arm around my shoulder and shot a pointed look at his two friends. “Dani’s going to eat lunch with us today. Got it?”

  Kenny and Connor shrugged. Connor whispered something to Kenny, but I didn’t care. I gazed up at Jacob, the warm weight of his arm on my shoulder, and I fell so much in love with him it was physically painful.

  I took that valentine home and placed it inside the shoebox where the dried-up flower wreath Jacob had given me in kindergarten was stored. I didn’t care that the handwriting was Tiffany’s. It had become another memory to cherish. I placed the card inside, like it was an offering at a temple, and pushed the box deep under my bed, where it stayed for the next four years.

  Chapter Eleven

  I hadn’t been able to figure out my own dilemma by the time I joined Anna that evening, a week after that kiss with Jacob. She had the rare night off, and we went to a fancy new bar only a few blocks from her apartment. During the day it was a coffee house that served deconstructed lattes (because of course it did), but at night it turned into a fancy cocktail restaurant that served things like deconstructed avocado toast. It was just an avocado that you had to peel yourself and a piece of bread on a wooden cutting board that cost $20.

  I was well into my third cocktail, feeling the delicious buzz of alcohol, when I bemoaned, “I’m a mess, Anna.”

  “We all are. But don’t blame yourself because Jacob left you high and dry. Well, not really. He left you wet and cockblocked.” She snickered.

  “I’m never going to get a guy to pop my cherry at this rate.” I stared at my martini, mostly hypnotized by the preserved lemon curl floating in the liquid. I wondered if I could eat it. Pulling it out of my drink, I dropped it into my mouth, grimacing immediately at the bitterness. Yeah, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea I’d ever had.

  “Aw, honey, it’ll happen.” Anna took my hands and squeezed them. “And if I were gay, I’d pop your cherry so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.”

  “You’re so sweet.” I felt near tears at that random declaration. “You know I’d sleep with you in a heartbeat,” I cried.

  “I know.” Anna held up her empty cocktail glass. “Another one, bartender! And for my friend, too!”

  I knew I should probably tell Anna I was going home, but then I finished off my third martini in one gulp and decided that would be a dumb idea. I hadn’t driven here, anyway. I’d walk home, or take the bus. Maybe both. Could you walk on top of the bus? For some reason, that thought was hilarious to me, and I started giggling uncontrollably.

  Well into our fourth drinks, Anna began to lean over the counter and proposition the bartender. He was handsome, in a “I got a degree in philosophy and now bartend to pay the bills” kind of way. When he seemed uninterested in Anna’s suggestive comments, she pointed to me. “What do you think about my friend? Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  The bartender looked like he’d rather be at the bottom of Elliott Bay. “She’s gorgeous,” he deadpanned.

  “I don’t believe you!” Anna turned to me. “He’s a jerk. Don’t listen to him.”

  “I said she was gorgeous,” said the bartender.

  “But you didn’t mean it!”

  Soon Anna and the bartender were in a heated debate, and I was considering going home. I was tired. I needed to scoop Kevin’s litter, otherwise he’d pee in my bed for skipping a day. I wondered if Jacob had to worry about things like scooping cat shit. I doubted he had a cat, but metaphorically speaking.

  Jacob had always seemed above normal things like litter boxes or putting gas in his car or going to Walgreens for toilet paper. He probably didn’t need toilet paper. He was too perfect for something so banal.

  A small part of my brain was telling me that I was very drunk and that I should stop drinking. That small part kept shrinking, but it was there, all the same.

  “I need to go home!” I said to Anna. “Let’s go.”

&nb
sp; I walked—more like stumbled—to Anna’s place, where she tried to get me to stay the night. But I needed to go home to Kevin. He had a litter box. It was very important. I told her I’d take the bus, except that it was late enough that I’d have to wait at least a half hour, if not longer, to catch one.

  “Fine, you whore.” Anna hugged me and gave me a sloppy kiss. “I love you. Be safe.”

  I began to walk home, but it was a slow walk. I kept getting distracted by the cracks in the sidewalk. I laughed when I saw a raccoon dart into a dumpster behind a restaurant. I watched another raccoon join it, and I stood there for who knew how long, enjoying the way the animals pilfered around in the trash to find something edible. I wondered what it would be like to live in a dumpster. It seemed like it could be cozy, if you really wanted it to be.

  I didn’t remember walking up the hill to my street. I felt a little sick to my stomach, but mostly thirsty from both the walk and the alcohol. My head was starting to hurt.

  As I passed by a row of brand-new apartments, I wondered if Jacob lived in them. He said he lived about three blocks from me, right? He hadn’t said that he’d bought a house, and the majority of this neighborhood was homes with a few condos and one apartment complex like mine. I leaned on the fence outside this complex, mostly because I was dizzy, but also because I really wanted to see if Jacob would come to the window like some pantomime of Romeo and Juliet.

  “Jacob, wherefore art thou, Jacob?” I singsonged. “Deny thy father and, something, something, Capulet, but you aren’t a Capulet, you’re a West.” I moaned. “Why did you have to be born a West? We could’ve had it all!”

  I started singing “Rollin’ in the Deep” as best as I could, which was not good at all when I was sober, let alone drunk. After a few earsplitting bars, a man yelled from his window, “Shut the fuck up, lady!”

  “You shut the fuck up!” I yelled back. I was about to fight this guy when someone clasped my elbow to pull me back from the brink.