Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  When I reach his office I hesitate outside the closed door.

  I take several deep breaths, steadying myself, before I reach for the handle and pull it down.

  He looks up when I walk in, wearing his glasses today.

  “Hey, Clark,” I joke, figuring that might lighten the mood.

  “Clark?”

  I point to his glasses. “Clark Kent, you know … Superman?”

  “Yeah, I know.” He turns his attention to his computer screen. I take my seat on the couch and pull out my homework. “What are you doing?” He arches a brow in my direction.

  I arch one right back. “My homework.”

  “Why?”

  I curl my legs under me, swaying my hand. “I don’t know, maybe because I don’t feel like talking today.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s my birthday,” I glare, not at him but through him, “today is going to be a good day. I’m not talking about the past. I’m not going to be sad or angry. So I’ll sit here and do my homework. Continue on with whatever it is you’re doing. I’m sure it’s far more important than me anyway.”

  I wince, realizing how whiny the last sentence sounds. I don’t want to be petulant, but it’s awful having him act so professional toward me lately. I know that’s how things should’ve always been, but the line was crossed, and he can try as hard as he wants, but it can’t be uncrossed.

  Nothing can erase my memories of the feel of his hands on my hips, the way his cock fit inside me, how he sucked my breasts. All of that is permanent. His silence can’t remove his actions.

  The only sound in the room is the heavy breath he exhales like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

  If he’s worried about me, us, doesn’t he know I’m ready to bear this burden with him? In a few months school will be over, this worry will be behind us.

  “Happy birthday, Dani.”

  “Thank you,” my reply is soft as I stare down blankly at the homework in my lap.

  At least fifteen minutes pass with him continuing to work and me mostly staring at my homework instead of doing it.

  “This is ridiculous.” He pushes away from his desk.

  “I agree.”

  He shoves his long fingers through his hair, pacing the short length of the room. My belly aches seeing how torn up he is.

  He turns around, facing me, swinging his arm in the air wildly. “There are so many things I want to say to you and I can’t. It’s killing me pushing you away, keeping you at a distance, but I have to do this.” He beats his chest with a closed fist. “I’m not doing this to hurt you, or make you angry, or any of the things you might think. I’m trying to protect you more than I am myself. I want to help you, but I’m worried I’m hurting you.”

  “You’re not hurting me—”

  “Listen,” he begins again, “I’m thirty years old, you are nineteen. The walls of this school are a very strict prison that’s supposed to prevent you and me from ever being together. I let my feelings corrupt my sensibilities, and because of how I feel for you, I need to protect you. You sitting there, telling me you don’t want to talk because it’s your birthday kills me, because I know if I hadn’t been forcing things to remain professional, you would’ve never said that.”

  There are several things from that proclamation I should focus on, but instead I say, “You’re thirty now? When was your birthday?”

  How do I not know when his birthday is? Why have I never asked?

  “Today.”

  I blink at him, thinking I can’t possibly have heard him right. “No, my birthday is today.”

  “So is mine.”

  “We have the same birthday?” I don’t know why I make it a question when he’s already made it clear.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you never tell me?” It’s not like I made an announcement to him about my birthday, but he’s looked at my information, so he had to know.

  “It’s not important.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course, a coincidence like that is definitely not important.”

  “It’s just a birthday.” He ruffles his hair again. It’s getting more unkempt, like he doesn’t care to have it trimmed lately.

  “I would’ve gotten you something,” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He lowers in front of me. “I know you would have.”

  “Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

  He gives a shrug. “It never came up.”

  I look away from him, not satisfied with that explanation. I give myself a few seconds to be angry, and then I look back at him with nothing but sadness. “Happy birthday, Lachlan.”

  His eyes roam my face like he’s studying every detail. “Happy birthday, Dani,” he says again.

  It startles me when his fingers brush my knee as he stands. I know he did it on purpose.

  He sits back down at his desk, returning to his work, and once again we’re pretending to be nothing but strangers.

  I blow out the candle on the salted caramel cheesecake. Sage brought me to some fancy restaurant to celebrate, but I would’ve been fine eating pizza at home. Though, this cheesecake does look delicious.

  Taking the candle out, I take a bite of dessert while Sage watches.

  “Mmm,” I hum.

  After the larger dinner we had, I wasn’t sure I could stomach any more, but let’s face it, there’s always room for dessert.

  Sage digs into the brownie sundae he ordered for himself.

  “How would you say your birthday has been?”

  “It’s been a pretty good one.” As much as I want things to go back to normal with Lachlan, I refused to let it ruin my day.

  “Good.” He wipes chocolate sauce from his lip.

  When he got home from work he gave me my gifts, some new art supplies, a couple of books he thought I might like, and some money subtly hinting at using it to decorate my room.

  We finish up our dessert, pay, and head back home.

  We’re quiet on the drive home, and after he parks in the garage, I turn to him.

  “I’m going to take a walk.”

  “I can go with you,” he insists, undoing his seatbelt.

  I shake my head. “No, I want to go alone.”

  He looks a little hurt at first but then nods. “Okay, don’t stay gone long.”

  “I won’t.”

  While he heads up in the elevator, I take the stairs to the lobby, and exit onto the street. The sun is beginning to set, and everything is awash in hues of gold and orange.

  Wrapping my jean jacket tighter around me to stave off the chill coming from the slight wind, I start walking, inhaling the fresh air.

  The fading heat from the sun feels good on my face as I tilt my head skywards.

  I want to stop feeling so lost. How do I find myself again? Show me the way.

  I’m not surprised when my thoughts are granted no answers.

  I keep walking, probably too far, and force myself to turn back around for the condominium.

  My steps slow when I see the massive brown dog ahead of me, its owner standing tall and broad-shouldered beside him.

  Why do I have to ache for him? Why? Why him out of all the other millions of people on the planet?

  Again, no answers.

  As if he senses my presence, Lachlan glances over his shoulder, startling when he sees me. He gives a shake of his head, his steps slowing too, like he’s waiting for me to catch up.

  I speed up, passing him.

  “Dani!” he calls out, making my stomach roll at the sound of his voice. “Dani, wait!”

  His pleas slow me and within seconds a massive head bumps into my leg. I can’t help but smile at the brown dog with the sweet soulful eyes.

  “Were you going to ignore me?” Lachlan’s voice is low.

  I tilt my chin, meeting his intense gaze. “I was thinking about it.”

  He works his jaw back and forth. “I deserve it.”

  “Yeah, you do.” There’s
no sense in denying the facts.

  “I’m sorry.” Again, like earlier today, he shoves his long fingers through his disheveled hair. “It … it has to be this way.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The last thing I want him to think is I’m immature about this whole thing. I love him deeply, and miss being with him, whether he knows it or not he’s my happy place, but I do grasp the severity of the situation.

  “Regardless,” he continues without me adding anything to the conversation, “I … I got you something.” His lips thin. “It’s in my place. Come up with me and I’ll grab it. I want you to have it today, while it’s still your birthday.”

  “It’s your birthday too,” I remind him, as if he doesn’t already know, “aren’t you going to do anything?”

  He presses his lips together as we continue to walk in sync side by side.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” I’m being nosy, I know, but I can’t help it. “Birthdays are meant to be celebrated.”

  His lips work back and forth and I can visibly see the tension clinging to his body as he fights with himself over whether or not he wants to voice what’s on his brain.

  Finally he looks down at me, his brows drawn. “If I can’t celebrate how I want to, with who I want to, what’s the point? I made myself a cake, that’s enough.”

  “You made your own cake?” My voice is small. For some reason, this breaks my heart. No one should ever have to make their own birthday cake.

  “Yeah?” It comes out as a question. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s your birthday. Someone should make your cake for you.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it since I lived on my own.”

  “Okay, Betty Crocker.”

  He actually laughs. We enter the building, taking the elevator up to his floor.

  When we reach his door, he looks at me over his shoulder. “Wait here.”

  I do roll my eyes this time. “What? You think I’m going to jump you or something?”

  He shakes his head, his tongue sliding out to wet his lips. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Dani.”

  Before I can respond, he disappears inside, letting the door close.

  I stand there, feeling like a pathetic loser, as I wait for him to return.

  It’s barely a minute later when the door opens and he holds out a tiny package and an envelope.

  “I…” He starts, then shakes his head. “Take it.”

  He thrusts the box and envelope out to me and I’m forced to grab it. I hold it carefully, staring at him. Before he can close the door the whole way I say, “Lachlan?”

  “Yeah?” he pauses, his eyes tortured.

  “Next year, I’m making your birthday cake.”

  I leave him standing there before he can give me a denial I don’t want to hear, and one I refuse to believe is true.

  I take the elevator down a floor and have to knock for Sage to let me inside.

  “I was getting worried,” he says upon opening it. “What’s that?” His eyes drop to the tiny package in my hand and card.

  “Oh … I … um … Taylor sent me a text while I was walking and told me to come by and get my birthday present.”

  I mean, it’s not a total lie, right?

  “That’s nice.” He closes and locks the door behind me. “Why haven’t I ever met this friend? I mean, I know I haven’t really met all of them, but if she lives in this building you could invite her over some time for dinner. I don’t want you to think you’re not allowed.”

  “Um … I’ll keep that in mind.” I bite my bottom lip. Lying like this to my brother is eating me up inside, but it’s not like I can tell him the truth. “I’m going to bed.”

  It’s starting to get late, and it’s a school night, so at least that part isn’t a lie.

  Shutting my bedroom door behind me, I’m careful to lock it. I lay the gift and envelope on the white comforter, staring at them both like they’re a snake that might lash out and bite my fingers.

  Why, Lachlan? Why do you have to play with my heart like this?

  I turn away from my bed, rummaging through the dresser for a pair of pajamas. I yank on a green pair of leggings and an old college shirt of Sage’s I snatched years ago. But when I turn back around, of course, the two items still sit on my bed waiting.

  I groan, picking up the box first.

  I know I don’t have it in me to hide either away in a drawer. It’ll bug me too much.

  I rip off the pale pink wrapping paper, revealing the small cardboard box. I lift the lid off gingerly. On top, is a rectangular business card size note on top with Lachlan’s handwriting.

  When I saw this, I knew it was you and I had to get it.

  —L

  Lifting the card off, I reveal the dainty necklace lying beneath.

  It’s a gold wire dandelion, not the kind you make wishes on that so many others have turned into jewelry and tattoos, no this is designed to look like a true yellow dandelion, like my namesake.

  I pick the chain up, looking at the wire flower that’s about the size of a dime.

  “Beautiful,” I whisper to myself. Setting the box down, I fumble to attach the necklace around my neck. Once I do, it sits above the friendship one Sasha gave me. I place my hand over it protectively, closing my eyes.

  After a moment, I grab the yellow envelope and open it, removing the letter inside.

  Dani,

  It seems lately the only way I find to communicate my thoughts and feelings properly to you is to write them down. I hope you know my feelings haven’t changed, but keeping my distance is necessary. I won’t repeat things here that you already know in regard to why, it’s pointless.

  Instead, I want to say I love you. That’s the only truth in all of this that matters.

  Wrong, immoral, it doesn’t matter, I can’t deny what I feel for you.

  I wish we were spending our birthdays together, but we can’t. It seems as if the list of things we cannot and should not do is growing longer and longer.

  But getting to know you these months, falling in love with you, I can’t bring myself to regret that. That would mean I regret you, and you, Dandelion Meadows are no one’s regret.

  Happy birthday, baby. I love you.

  Please, if you believe nothing else, know my love for you is real.

  —Lachlan

  I hold his letter against my heart, closing my eyes.

  For a moment, I can pretend it’s him I’m holding.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  After some grumbling from Sage, he actually expressed—or faked—enthusiasm over me going to prom with Ansel. It might’ve been my insistence that we’re only going as friends that finally got him to stop shooting dirty looks at every mention of prom. He even forked over some money for a shared limo and my prom dress.

  Shopping with Sasha had been more fun than I expected. It was only the two of us and we laughed and joked, expressing opinions on various dresses before we both decided on the one.

  With my hair and makeup done I slip into my dress, luxuriating over the feel of it. It’s far more princess-y than I would’ve ever thought I’d choose, but somehow, it’s perfectly me at the same time.

  It dips down, exposing more cleavage than I would normally be comfortable with, but this felt like the night to be a little more daring. Though, my brother will probably blow a gasket when he sees it. It’s fitted at my waist, before flaring out into a flowy tulle ball gown skirt. The whole thing is a champagne color, but what made it stand out to me is the pink, white, and blue flowers stitched all over the dress with green stems. The amount of flowers is thicker at the bottom, with not as many as it goes up the skirt. There are some stitched into the top and I rub my fingers over them, marveling at the exquisite detail. I’ve never owned anything like this, but I love it.

  Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I brush an errant hair back into its ‘do. Sage insisted I get my hair and make up done. I drew the line at
my nails, which I painted myself a nude color.

  My hair, which is normally always down or tossed up in a messy bun, has two braids on the left side of my head with the rest of my hair pulled back and fixed low on my neck. A few stray pieces frame my face artfully to soften the look. My makeup, which took a surprisingly long time considering how simple it looks, gives my skin a warm, dewy glow. My eyes are shadowed in different shades of pink, and my lips are a nude-pink color with a bronze gloss on top. I feel beautiful—not that I think I’m an ugly duckling—but when I look in the mirror, I look grown up, more like a woman than the girl I feel like I’m stuck as.

  Grabbing my glittery clutch off my dresser I stuff my phone, lip-gloss, and the cash Sage gave me for tonight.

  Before I can slip my feet into my heels, Sage yells, “Ansel is here!”

  Fixing the shoes, I stand, giving myself one last once over.

  I removed the necklace from Sasha, but the dandelion from Lachlan hangs above my breasts.

  I can’t go to prom with him, but at least he’ll be with me in some way.

  Not wanting to give my brother a moment longer to contemplate changing his mind about letting me go with Ansel, I meet them by the front door.

  “Wow,” Ansel blurts, looking me up and down.

  Sage smiles. “You look beautiful, D.” His eyes narrow at my exposed chest. “I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he grumbles.

  I walk up to Ansel and he extends the corsage he got me. It’s a beautiful array of what looks like wildflowers. I offer him my wrist and he slips it on. Grabbing his simple white orchid boutonniere I do the same.

  He looks strikingly handsome in his deep green, so green it’s nearly black, tux. His dark hair is more tamed than usual and those eerie light blue eyes of his are otherworldly.

  “You look good,” I tell him, finally finding my voice.

  “Not as good as you.”

  “Stop flirting with my sister and let me get some pictures.”

  I want to tell Sage if he calls that flirting no wonder he’s single, but I don’t feel in the mood to tease him and possibly make him mad. I want nothing to ruin tonight.

  I step into Ansel’s side and he wraps an arm around me carefully, not wanting to touch me in any place Sage might lose his shit over.