I’m not exactly dying to hear about that either.
“Psst.” Dylan leans in. “Being in this lovely flower shop has me wondering about what it must be like to deflow—”
“I can’t believe Samantha has almost survived two years of you,” I interrupt.
“There’s no getting away now.”
“You think you’re untouchable from heartbreak?”
“You break my heart every day,” Dylan says, reading the flower cards while the florist helps another customer. “But Samantha and I are happy.”
“I can tell. It’s nice to not be worried about you. On that front, at least. I’m definitely concerned you’re going to out-Dylan yourself in front of the wrong person one day and get a beatdown. Here’s hoping Samantha saves the day.”
“Oh, please. I watch WWE. I wish someone would try.”
Only Dylan would think watching fake wrestling is self-defense training.
He holds up some small white flowers bunched together. “What do you think of these?”
“They look like cauliflower.”
“These are stephanotis, you fool!”
“How do you even know that word?”
The florist approaches us. “A fine choice,” he says in his deep voice. He’s Black with a thick white beard, and vines draped around his shoulders. He reminds me of this potion maker in TWWW. “What’s the occasion?”
“Two-year anniversary with my girlfriend.”
“Ah, mazel tov. Do you know her favorite flowers, or are we just looking to arrange something ourselves?”
Dylan pulls out his phone and opens his Notes app. “She’s a fan of calla lilies and ranunculus.”
“You have a cheat sheet of her favorite flowers? That’s cute.”
“You have to with names like these.”
I shadow them while the florist takes Dylan around the shop.
Dylan points to some white roses. “B-Man, what do you think?”
“They’re cool.”
“Are you impersonating some straight bro? If you don’t stop and smell some roses I will get a new best friend at the Pride parade.”
“Be my guest,” I say.
“You’ll regret this. It’s going to be a huge extravaganza. It’s going to be like The Bachelor except we’ll call it The Best Friend and all your people are going to woo me so hard.”
“Can’t wait to not watch that.”
“You’re cranky. I’m going to hang with Phil here.”
I wish Phil the best of luck.
I text Mario, asking him how playing basketball with his brothers is going, and then I wander the shop while waiting for a response. There’s a section called Flowers for All Moods. Smart move since you don’t want to bring sympathy irises to date night. There are pink and red roses for love and joy. Bluish-purple daisies to wish someone better health. The bright yellow tulips are recommended to cheer someone up. It has me thinking about Arthur, though if I wanted to make his day, I’d deliver some wildflowers, which are his favorite. I almost sent him some in December after the Mikey breakup. But the only wildflower bouquet I could find was for funerals, and it cost sixty dollars, so instead I sent a link to some park’s virtual tour of their wildflower exhibit. It was better than a bouquet, because we got to watch it together.
I keep thinking about last December. Arthur and I were flirting so much you’d think we never got the memo that we broke up. Arthur was begging for a TWWW sequel, and around Christmastime, I was really thinking about a sequel of our own. I was willing to do the long-distance thing, especially after seeing how we were still so connected.
I was so close to telling him how I felt.
And then Arthur chose Mikey before I even stepped into the ring.
Now I don’t even trust myself to know what’s in his head. If he really was upset at the open mic night, would he even reach out to me?
If he did, I’d run out of this flower shop.
I’d skip the Pride parade, even though it might be my last in New York.
I’d even tell Mario someone important needs me.
But I doubt I could make Arthur smile the way I used to. I don’t even know if it’s my place to try.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Arthur
Friday, June 26
“He’ll come around,” my mom says. I picture her in her swiveling office chair, holding the phone up like a walkie-talkie. “I’m sure he just needs a little space to process everything.”
“A little? He soft-blocked me!”