Flowers - Nichole Hall (motivational books for women TXT) 📗

she know everything? God, she is like the people whisperer. 

“Let me guess, she’s okay with everything?” The bitterness in Kevin’s tone doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Uh, actually yeah.” There was no way I am giving him an ego boost with my grandmother’s false misunderstanding words of him being  “good boy.” Kevin Gardley is anything but. “Do you not like my grandmother or something?”

Kevin shoots me a dark look. His eyes have gone cold and shut down, his demeanor stands on guard, straight and arrow his body shoots up. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to use any of the guest bedrooms on the second floor.”

After he leaves the den, a loud crash echoes into the den sounding familiar to a class cup breaking. Whatever is going on between his alter ego’s, he needs to get them in check. One moment he is easy to talk to and the other a cold monster comes out throwing class cups for no apparent reason.

Everyone Knows Something

After Super Trooper’s ended, I decided it was time to take that offer on one of the guest bedrooms. First things first, the intention is to get Mandy up and at it so she can take a bed too. I am not that messed up of a friend to leave her sleeping in a car all night long.

Following the same path back to the front door, the car is in the same spot as before. The only problem is when I look in, neither Charlie nor Mandy are fast asleep in the back seat. A chill crawls over my skin and worry hits my stomach, notting into a dozen butterflies flying around in fury. Where the hell are they?

Standing there like a shocked idiot doesn’t help, so I turn back around and run into the house. With minimal light and even less knowledge of where Kevin’s bedroom is, I am at a loss of what to do. The only thing possible is to start checking bedrooms. 

I start on the second level since that is where Kevin suggested all the guest bedrooms might be. It’s a maze at first climbing one of the two set of stairs. To the right are six doors and to the left five. Being closer to the right, I start opening the doors and turning on the lights only to find empty bedrooms and one empty half bathroom. Once I have reached the end I turn around and head the other direction. Much of the same this time except no half bathroom. With one door left all the way at the far end, I pray that those two idiots are in here sleeping away without misery, because internally I am freaking out. Okay, Charlie may not be some psychotic teenager, but he could be a horny one trying to get Mandy to sleep with him. 

My hand reaches out to the door knob just as it turns and the door swings wide open. To my dismay, a sleepy Kevin is standing in front of me. I try, keyword try, not to notice how his hair is in disarray making him look so innocent and cute, or how he only wears boxer briefs to bed, showing off his muscular and tan build. 

“Can I help you?” He snaps.

“I can’t find Mandy or Charlie.” I snap back. Kevin rolls his eyes, walking past me. With nowhere else to go, I begrudgingly follow his lead. He walks down the stairs cutting to the left, passing through a display living room, rather than one where people actually sit down and converse in. Two more sets of doors, one on each side of opposite walls are there. Kevin opens the one on the right, swaying his arm as to say “look.” I peek my head in. There they are. Both completely snoring loudly this time. Charlie has his arm wrapped around Mandy as her backside is completely pushed to his front. Little smiles paint their faces. They seem so content. Slowly backing out, Kevin shuts the door.

“Happy now?” 

“What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Or your panties in a twist. Figuratively of course, his briefs are looking pretty stretched at the moment. On their own accord, my eyes trail back to the bulge in front. 

“You.” His word snaps me back to reality.

“Sorry I am such a dishevel to your life. If you would have-”

Kevin doesn’t let me finish, only stalks away completely cutting me off. Now what the hell did I ever do to him? Today is the first day we have ever talked to each other. I remember his pinched smiled in the car ride over to the party. Does he really hate me that much? Whatever. Nothing I can do about it, and it’s not like I care. Right? Right.

“Are you coming?” His voice booms causing me to jump three feet in the air. 

Standing at the top of the second level with his arms crossed over his chest, a feeling of meeting the calvary pops into my head. When I reach him, Kevin turns right opening the first door on the left. Clicking on the light, I shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. The rooms is bigger than the kitchen and dining room at home put together, also more lavish. A four poster bed sits in the middle of the room. Oak night stands on each side and on the far left side is a couch. Another door sits next to the couch.

“There’s a bathroom in here. Towels are under the sink.” Then I am alone.

Wasting no time, I head to the shower. My skin is dry from the chlorine, my clothes have dried stiff on me and my hair is a tangled mess of waves. Awesome. The steamy shower feels great and soon after the cold water starts running I hop out and cover myself in towels. My clothes lay in a discarded heap on the floor. Without thinking, I pass those and head back into the bedroom with the full intention of sleeping in towels. 

That doesn’t happen though. Kevin sits on the bed, his eyes trained on one of the oak night stands. I follow his gaze inspecting the handy work. It clicks that this was one of my father’s. Shocked to the core and unable to do anything but walk over to the night stand and caress it, it feels like a piece of him comes back. Four years ago he died and I have never felt so close to him than when touching one of his works of art. 

“It was your fathers.” I nod. “Here.” 

Pushed into my hands are clothes. A pair of black sweatpants with our high school emblem on them, a plain white shirt and surprisingly, a bra. Inspecting the bra, it is my exact size.

“I guessed you were a B cup.” My eyebrows arch high.

“Who’s is it?”

“Who knows?” Kevin smiles smugly. 

“So you aren’t gay?” I blurt. The words were out of my mouth before I could even think about the consequences. Fearing some sort of outburst, I am surprised when Kevin bursts out laughing. Standing up still laughing he heads to the door with my question unanswered. Just as he closes the door with just two inches left. The side of his face smirks at me.

“I don’t do relationships, Willow. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my fun either.” Ew. Shutting the door still laughing, I stand there in a daze. So Kevin is a manwhore, he just doesn’t flaunt it like Charlie. It takes awhile to decide if that’s a good or bad thing. When my eyes finally shut for the night, I am still undecided.  

 

*****

The next morning Charlie was the one to drop Mandy and I off. Mandy kept rubbing her temples in attempt to get rid of her pounding hangover. Grandma had breakfast just about ready when we walked in. With glasses of lemonade and water, and a cup of coffee, that table was set up for three. Once breakfast was served, pancakes, eggs, hashbrowns and sausages, we all sat down to eat. Grandma had to keep chiding Mandy to eat her food.

“Lemonade to soothe your soul Mandy, and grease-y food to help the stomach. Eat it all now, child.” Mandy learned early on that you don’t argue with grandma. I scarfed down my food in no time, sneezing more frequently than usual. It didn’t feel like a cold was coming on, but usually if I stay away from the house for more than a day the dust bunnies get to me. 

“Good job, Willow.” Grandma pats my head after all the food on the plate is now sitting inside my full belly. She then sends Mandy and I to my bedroom to go take a nap. Grandma, the hangover guru. Just as we stand up from the table she voices her opinion. “Next time the two of you decide it’s a good idea to drink into oblivion, think again.” 

“God, how do you know everything?” Mandy repeats the same question I asked grandma last night.

“I ain’t no child. I am an old wise woman, you best remember that, girl.”

Mandy’s eyes bulge wide causing me to crack up laughing. She thinks she’s seen my grandmother at her best, but she hasn’t seen a thing yet. 

 

The day passes by quickly and Mandy left after the three hour nap we took. Grandma recruited to me help with her garden vegetables. It seemed at first as some type of punishment. Showing how her garden lives and mine died, but then she seemed so content with me helping pulling out the weeds and planting tomato vines. Yes, I know, tomato is a fruit, but grandma’s tomato’s are legendary size. 

“Fruit and vegetable roots mixing creates bigger results.” She says. I don’t know how much i believe that. It could be we have good soil here. 

We continue to pull out weeds, plant new seeds and take out old vegetables that didn’t survive. Hey, her plants thrive, but not every single one lives. We also pull out vegetables that are ready to be cleaned and eaten. Two hours into the work, and none of us have said anything yet. Sometimes gardening is my own soothing the soul technique. Of course, my dead plot would say otherwise.

“You register this week for school, honey.” Grandma finally breaks the silence. 

“I know.” 

“Good. How many classes you got this year?” Pulling out a deep rooted carrot, I grunt in exasperation before answering.

“Only five. The AP classes gave me extra credits.”

“That’s my smart girl.” Grandma smiles in appreciation, either at the huge carrot or my hard work in high school. An image of Kevin and his ugly, disdained face from last night creeps up. 

“Grandma, why did you say Kevin is a good kid?”

“You don’t think so, Willow?” We both quit our current pulling and sit down in the shade. Grandma wipes some sweat off her forehead with the back of her long sleeve shirt. Both of our pants are stained brown and green from the amount of time we spend out here every week. We use the same gardening pants so we don’t ruin any other clothing. Our long sleeves keep in the heat, but protect our skin from the sun. While Grandma also insists on wearing her straw hat, I just keep sunglasses on. 

“He just seems so...” I