Chapter 12
Stella
I thought this town was a fairytale, but I was wrong. When I step into Hazel’s flower shop, I step into a world of wonder.
The shop smells wonderful, filled with the fragrance of countless flowers. The magic here is so gentle it soothes every part of my heart.
Petals are scattered like confetti across the floor. Vines hold bouquets to the walls. The shop is pretty small, almost the size of my hotel room, but the space seems to stretch out endlessly.
I’m so in awe of her shop that I don’t notice Hazel, who’s currently on her knees, humming a song, gently holding onto a flower.
I sink to the floor, watching her work. It’s one of the most wholesome sights I’ve ever seen.
Hazel takes care of her flowers with so much tenderness and affection that my heart melts.
Then, I watch in awe as her magic starts to work before my eyes. Vines all around the shop twist and slowly stretch toward the flower she’s holding. Every petal and flower around us begins to glow, sparkling like stars in a midnight sky.
The green daisy Hazel is cradling becomes vibrant, as if she’s breathed life into it, and the petals begin to shift, shimmering with an ethereal glow.
It’s now that I realize that the vines are uniting behind Hazel to form a heart .
Symbols start spreading on the petals. A slow, gentle drawing that reminds me of ink on a letter.
A darker shade of green traces, like a pen on paper, musical notes all around the petals, surrounding each of them with a spark of magic.
Wow.
Hazel’s magic quiets when the drawing stops, and the vines return to their place. She turns around, a shy smile lighting up her face. “Hi, Stella. Welcome to my shop.”
I smile back, still in awe. “Hi, Hazel. That was . . . Wow. That was incredible,” I blubber, still shaken.
Hazel’s face brightens with a smile. “Thanks.” She stands, then hands me the green daisy she’s been working on. “That’s for you.”
What!? Emotion clogs my throat. This was all for me?
“Hazel . . . That’s . . . that’s very sweet of you.” My voice trembles as I reach to take the flower from her hand, but she looks at me with a question in her eyes, and I nod.
Hazel giggles softly and places the flowers in my hair with a tenderness that makes me ache.
Gosh, this woman is too good for this world.
“Thank you.”
She smiles. “It’s a tradition here.”
“A tradition?”
“Yes,” she says brightly, her eyes lighting up.
“I’ve loved flowers since I was a kid. Any time I felt lost or sad, my best friend would pick a flower from the ground and place it in my hair.
He said it made the flowers have a magic of their own, that it made my face look brighter.
When I learned about my powers, I made it a tradition to do the same for everyone who comes into my shop.
I give them a flower with a hint of magic to wipe away the lost look in their eyes. ”
It’s rare that I feel the urge to be friends with someone, but I want this woman to be my friend with everything in my heart.
“What magic is in this one?” I ask, touching the flower in my curly hair.
“Hope. Compassion. Willingness to try new things.”
How does she know that’s what I need?
She looks nervous for a moment. “I don’t decide what people need, Stella. It’s their presence in the shop that makes it happen.”
“So, just because I’m here, it made the flower change?”
She giggles softly. “No. I just need you to be here for it to work. My magic always seems to have a mind of its own.”
I chuckle. “I get it.”
Her eyes, almost with hints of gold, light up with understanding.
Adrian described Hazel as distant and hard to read, but as I look into her joyful eyes, her shy demeanor, and her vibrant smile, I don’t find her distant at all.
Hazel has a kind heart, a fairytale-like magic, and a shyness that’s endearing.
She may not be as vocal as Isabella, but her actions speak loudly.
“That’s a beautiful thing to do, Hazel.” My mind keeps returning to the music notes. “But . . . how—how did you know about the music?”
Her hands fidget with the flower. “I . . . I didn’t.
I’m going to sound crazy, but . . . the flowers here are all unique.
They each have their own qualities, their own potential.
It just has to be seen and nurtured. With the green daisy, I felt its honesty at my fingertips.
I felt a need to care for people—the fear of being useless.
” She pauses, and I feel too exposed, like she’s seeing into my soul.
But her kindness makes it impossible to feel afraid or anything other than safe and hopeful.
Hazel smiles at me. “It was a flower afraid to bloom. So I made space for it to do so, just like I do for every flower here. Some have magical abilities, like healing or teleportation or glimpses of the future. Others are used as messages that people need to hear.” Her smile falters a little, and embarrassment touches her features.
“I didn’t hear you come in, and the daisy’s petals were just .
. . reaching for you. So I gave it some magic and hoped it was what you needed.
” She grins proudly. “And now I know I was right, because it’s clinging to you and your shoulders finally relaxed. ”
My hands unconsciously reach for my hair, only to find the flower firmly clinging to me. It’s adjusted itself to the shape of my head and intertwined itself on my hair, effectively clinging to me like it belongs there.
“Does this happen often?” I whisper. “Flowers reaching for people?”
Her smile brightens. “Oh, you’re far from being the only one. I think my magic tries to offer some guidance through those flowers, but I still don’t understand everything about my powers. It’s a very abstract concept for me to decipher.”
“Your powers aren’t the only ones that are abstract.” I laugh softly as my situation with my powers comes back to me. I trained them for fifteen years, daily, and it’s only now that I realize that I never understood them. “Currently, mine feel impossible to decipher.”
Hazel smiles at me. “Don’t worry. It took me a long time to learn what I know today. It’s a long process.”
I nod in agreement. “Sometimes I just . . . I just wish I had been born with easier powers, you know? Simple to understand. Straight-to-the-point kind of simple.”
Hazel laughs. “You’re far from being the only one.
I did too. So did Adrian. Layla is the only lucky one of us with ‘straight-to-the-point kind of simple’ powers.
Despite that, she still lost them and had to master them again.
All of our powers are complex and unique—that’s where their beauty comes from. ”
I smile at her. “You should talk more often—you’re wiser than you let on. Maybe your siblings could use some of your wisdom.”
She huffs and turns around. “My siblings aren’t interested in hearing any of my wisdom.”
I follow her. “I’m sure they are.”
She turns around to face me, sighing. “If you think so.”
Hazel and I spend the rest of the morning in her shop, with her showing me more of her magic and us sharing anecdotes, until we’re interrupted.
The door gently opens behind us, and I can’t see who comes in since I have my back to the door, but I see Hazel’s face light up.
“Hey, Nate! Come in.”
I turn around to see Nate. This man stands tall, and his eyes are green, reminding me of the leaves on trees. His green eyes remind me of Adrian’s, although they don’t make me feel like the world is fading away—
Wait, what was that?
I shake the thought away and focus on Hazel and Nate.
“So, what brings you here?” Her voice is all sunshine, and it makes me smile. She’s practically beaming.
“I didn’t see you come out of your shop this morning. So I brought you lunch. We both know you have a tendency to get lost here.”
Hazel smiles and laughs as she looks at me with sparkling eyes, explaining softly, “Yeah, I do tend to get lost here and forget about food.”
Nate smiles warmly at her. “Which is why I’m here.”
“Thanks.” She grabs the bag and turns to me, realization filling her eyes. “Wait! I forgot to introduce you two.” She laughs quietly, like she’s laughing at herself. “Stella, this is Nate. He’s my best friend. Nate, this is Stella. She’s new to town . . .”
Nate smiles at her, and she smiles back, like both of them understand each other in the silence. I can’t decipher what that silence at the end means, but clearly Nate does.
He turns in my direction and offers me his hand. “I’m not used to seeing people travel here. But it’s an honor to meet you. If Hazel chooses to spend time with you, you must be something special.”
I extend my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nate. I’m not sure about the special part though.”
Nate chuckles as he shakes my hand. “Hazel doesn’t spend time with a lot of people.”
“Hey! I spend a lot of time with nine different people. That’s a lot of people.”
He chuckles. “What I mean is she doesn’t spend time with just anybody. So if she chose to spend time with you , it’s because you’re someone important.”
I smile.
“Well, since you’ve been so insightful and pointed out my friend’s importance, you should leave us alone,” Hazel tells her best friend, her tone full of amusement and a wild smile on her face. “Go!”
Both of them laugh as he heads out of the shop.
I clear my throat. “What was that ? You were . . . different around him.”
Hazel’s smile turns sadder. “Let’s just say there is a reason I’m different around him.”
I try to choose my words carefully, mindful not to put distance between me and her. “What’s the story behind that?”
Her smile turns a bit happier, and I take it as a win. “We’ve been friends all our lives.”
“You’re lucky to have each other.” I smile at her.
She smiles back. “You’ll find people like that, Stella. I’m sure of it.”
My heart warms at the conviction in her voice. “What about me made you want to spend your time with me?”
Hazel’s eyes meet mine. “I don’t spend time with a lot of people because it causes me anxiety.
I spend my time with you because you . .
. make me feel less alone. It’s like you see things about me only Nate has ever noticed, and he saw them because we grew up together.
Your perceptiveness amazes me and . . .” Hazel sighs heavily.
“Maybe I’m a little lost too. Maybe I need someone to show me things about myself I didn’t see before.
Plus, it’s easy to talk with you because I know you struggle just as much with social interactions as I do, and it makes the struggle feel .
. . lighter, since I’m not alone in it.”
Her words wrap around my heart, holding me tight. Of course, I’ll be your friend. I won’t let you miss just how amazing you are, I promise.
“You know,” Hazel says again, “when I first saw you, you reminded me of a flower waiting to bloom. You had a look in your eyes, like you were looking for something to hope for. I still remember thinking, This girl looks like it’s been raining all her life and she just needs a bit of sunlight.
” She stays quiet for a bit before looking at me, apologetically.
“Sorry for the flower metaphor. I tend to make weird metaphors with them.”
But it’s precisely how I felt that night. Lost, hopeless, and lonely.
I had been looking for light, for something to hope for, for my own kind of happiness.
Here, sitting on the floor with take-out food Hazel decided to share with me and easy laughter, I realize just how simple joy can be.