His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

(Now)

“Dad, I’m going to go grocery shopping.” I yelled in the house so my father would hear it. I didn’t want to go to his room and walk in on something I didn’t want to see. Sometimes he brought women over and it got really awkward for all three of us.

He popped his head out of his room. So, he had no one there today. “Buy me some cigarettes on the way back.” He said.

“Okay.” I nodded, and Dad retired to his room.

Even though our relationship had worsened over the last few years or so, I still yearned for his affection, for his attention. I did everything the exact way he wanted me to, I tried my best not to piss him off, but we had grown so distant and so apart, I don’t think there was any coming back.

I changed into some jeans and a t shirt, then headed out. Our neighbor Tommy had graciously offered to go with me, since he needed to buy some stuff too. It was nice to have some company. Tommy and I were almost friends. He lived with his mom in the flat next to ours. We were the same age, and he had been so nice to me when we had first moved here a few months ago. I think he was the only one who had been nice to me here.

My father was…not very well liked. He was angry and volatile and got into fights often. He wasn’t really friends with anyone and kept to himself. His image had rubbed off on me. Plus, Dad didn’t like when I socialized too much, so I barely ever stepped out of the house except to go to work. The costs far outweighed the benefits. The only reason I could hang out with Tommy sometimes was because he lived close enough for me to lie about going on a walk alone when I was with him, instead. And because he was nice enough to accompany me on errands.

He was waiting right outside the building in his car, and I hurriedly got into it before my father could see. He started driving the moment I sat down. He knew the drill as well as I did.

“Hey!” I greeted cheerfully. “Thanks for driving me.”

Tommy grinned. “I got you!” He was always grinning. Smiling and cracking stupid jokes. When I was with him, I was always laughing over the stupidest things. I loved that. “How’s the new job?”

“Pretty good,” I shrugged. I thought for a second. “The boss is a bit…rude. But the other housekeeper is really nice and the work isn’t too much for the pay.”

“I’m really glad you got it, Flo.” He said, “Now you can save up and move out soon.”

“I hope so.” I said, crossing my fingers in my hand. “They do need a gardener, actually, if you’re up for that.”

He shook his head. “I just took up more shifts at the diner. If things go well, I might get a promotion, so I want to focus on that. But thanks for thinking of me, Flora.” He ruffled my hair. “You’re the sweetest.”

Sometimes I thought about telling Tommy about everything – everything that had happened, of my life before. I wanted to tell someone, anyone. I hated carrying around this secret, this heaviness in my heart. But I knew that telling him just meant endangering him, and I could never do that. Not after all that he’d done for me – the immense support he had provided. I don’t think I would have been alive without that.

“How’s Lily? Did you go out again?”

Lily is a girl he had met on a dating app and gone out with a few times. Tommy shrugged. “She’s alright. She’s been busy but I think I’ll see her next week.”

We fell silent, before he broke it with a question. “Why don’t you try the apps? You’ll get tons of matches.”

I giggled. “I don’t really have time for dating.”

He frowned. We pulled into the grocery store parking and both stepped out. As we walked, he continued. “Why? I’ve never heard you talk about someone, or go out ever. You reject everyone who asks you out. It would be nice for you to have someone, you know?”

I had someone. He was my everything. I had him again but now I was nothing to him.

“Maybe.” I mused. “I’m not opposed to it. I just don’t want to actively look for anything.” Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. We were in the dairy and meats section, and I started filling my trolley with bottles of milk and some chicken.

Come to think of it, I’d never had a boyfriend. When I hesitated, his eyes widened. “You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

“There was someone.” I murmured. “In high school.”

“That doesn’t count.” He shook his head.

I looked up at him in horror, I think. And disbelief. It counted. Of course, it counted.

“Why?”

He shrugged. We had moved on to the produce section, and he began to fill my trolley with too many red peppers. “You’re just immature then, I think.

The feelings aren’t real.”

Why would he say that? The feelings I had for Felix were real. The feelings Felix had for me real. He couldn’t erase that with this statement about teenage immaturity.