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Grinning, I shrugged a shoulder. “I want to say something special.”

“To who? Your sister or your grandmother?”

“Neither.”

Her eyes darted over the flowers, plucking lone stems from fat vases. Taking her handful of flowers, she went over to a long table and spread them out. “These aren't just flowers you know, they hold meaning. It's floriography.”

“Flori-what?”

Arranging the flowers, Kitty cut the stems, then began to wrap the bouquet in a sheet of silver paper. “It basically means flower writing. The flowers you pick should be more than just pretty colors, they should say exactly what you want to say.” Angling her head, she lifted the flowers. “Do you know what you're saying with these?”

Shaking my head, I said, “I have no idea, I've never bought flowers before.” Taking a step forward, I tucked my hands into my pockets. “And I never knew it was so complicated.”

“Which means buying them now has a special purpose, and it's not just to wish her a happy birthday.” Her lips pulled back tight as she licked them in thought. “Unless it's her birthday, is it her birthday?”

“No, it's not her birthday.”

“Good, that means I got the right message here for you.” Tying a bright pink ribbon around the bundle, she held up the bouquet and passed it to me. Pointing at a white flower that looked like a starfish, she said, “White Jasmine, they stand for sweet love.” Sweeping her finger across the cluster, she pointed at a pink flower in the back. “Morning Glory, that's for affection.”

Kitty had put together a masterpiece of petals that were not only beautiful, but they said exactly what I felt about Blue.

Red roses for love, calla lilies for beauty, ivy for friendship, heliotrope for eternal love. It was all the words I couldn't speak freely. I had told Blue I loved her, but saying it just didn't seem like enough.

They were just words when you really thought about it. Words that meant nothing to most people. It seemed like anyone would say they loved someone else. For shit's sake, I once heard the girl working at the grocery store tell a customer she loved them because they told her her hair looked nice.

It shouldn't be that easy, it should never be that easy. I had written off love long before I knew exactly what it meant to feel it. Now, I took those words seriously, and I wanted to show Blue just how serious I was.

Holding the incredible bundle of fresh flowers, I smiled. The bouquet was perfect, and for the first time in years, I felt like I knew where my life was going. I had been saving for years to get out of this shitty town once I turned eighteen.

Secretly, I stowed away every ounce of cash I had made, found, and earned since I was old enough to understand the value of money. And I was more than willing to use that money for the girl I loved.

“This is perfect, how much?”

“Take them, they're yours.”

“What?No, I can't do that. How much?”

Resting her hand on mine, she smiled. “Sweetheart, take the flowers.” Moving her hand over a small book, she turned the page. Kitty's lips were moving soundlessly as she mouthed the words she was reading. Stopping, she looked up at me. “Go, go give her the flowers. They won't live forever in that paper.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Starting for the door, I looked back over my shoulder and thanked her again. “She's going to love these.”

“Of course she is.” Winking, Kitty's smile grew. “But, she's going to love you a whole lot more than those flowers.”

Walking down the sidewalk, I held the flowers tight as I kept my head down. Kicking a single rock, I kept moving it along with me, step after step. The small rock rolled, bobbling over smaller pebbles and dips in the road.

I was inside my own head, excited and nervous to see Blue and give her the flowers. No one had ever held a place in my heart like her. She had become my everything. My past, my present, and my future.

Most would say what we had was first time love, that it was young love, a love that would always be remembered but would never last.

To all of those people, I'd say you're wrong. This was different, it was real. I could feel her in my bones, in every ounce of my being.

Betty-Sue Fable would be my wife some day.

“Whatcha doin, Boy?” His voice shrieked in my ear, causing my shoulders to jerk up.

Glancing to my left, my father was driving slowly beside me, rolling at the speed I was walking. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, the butt end being held in place by saliva on his bottom lip.

His hands were covered in black grease, his shirt streaked with long sweeping lines of dark brown oil. I could tell he had been working on his car, which wasn't out of the ordinary. My father's car was a piece of shit because he would rather spend his money on liquor than buy something new.