Barrow
I couldn’t sleep last night.
The more I tried to settle my mind, the more it wandered back to her — Star.
I tossed and turned, the sheets twisted around my legs, Sugar’s big, white form sprawling across my chest in protest. She’s normally a good sleeper, but this time, she didn’t like it any more than I did. Every time I shifted, her head would lift, her eyes slits of annoyance, before she curled back up again.
I’m sure she was fed up with the constant movement by the time I finally gave up and dragged myself out of bed.
The morning sun filters in through the window, but the haze in my mind won’t clear. Star’s words, her laugh, the way she looked at me when I mentioned things I’d never said aloud before — all of it’s swirling in my head.
She felt real, more real than anyone I’ve been with in a long time.
Maybe ever.
And I can’t stop thinking about her.
I get up, stretch, and wander into the kitchen, making coffee, though the idea of drinking it feels like it’s not going to fix anything. But I need to do something about this feeling in my chest.
I can’t shake it. I want to see her again, talk to her again. I want to be with her, as much as that scares the hell out of me.
Sugar yawns and pads off the couch to stare at me, probably still waiting for me to stop being restless. I rub her head, and she gives a resigned meow before hopping off the counter and curling up next to the window.
That’s it , I decide. I can’t sit here all day, wondering. I need to do something about this. I can’t just let this feeling fade away without giving it a chance.
I grab my jacket, leave Sugar behind with her indignation, and head to Snowpack Cafe. But before I go, I make a stop at Plump Produce. It’s on the way, and I’ve been thinking it might be nice to get Star something. Maybe flowers. Something simple. Not too over the top, but enough to let her know I’ve been thinking about her.
The bell over the door rings as I walk in, and Becki looks up from where she’s stocking some oranges. The faintest, knowing smile flickers across her face when she sees me. She’s too sharp not to know what’s going on.
“Good morning, ,” she says, cheerful but with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “You’re up early. What’s the occasion?”
“Just needed to get out of the house,” I reply, trying to keep it casual as I make my way to the flower section. “Thought I’d grab something nice.”
Becki watches me for a beat, and I’m pretty sure she can tell I’m nervous. She tilts her head and purses her lips, the same teasing smile still there.
“You know, I think tulips would be nice for a first gesture,” she says, pulling a bunch of vibrant pink and yellow tulips from the cooler. “Roses are nice, but they’re a little...heavy, don’t you think? Tulips are softer, lighter. Maybe better for a first date kind of thing.”
I blink, caught off guard. I didn’t even think about the meaning behind flowers. I just figured flowers were flowers. But she’s right. Roses might come off too strong, too forward. Tulips, though… they feel lighter. Gentler.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the bouquet, trying and failing to figure out what she means by a first gesture . I feel a little better about it now, less like I’m about to launch into some over-the-top gesture. This feels more like me—simple, thoughtful, not trying to make it more than it is.
Becki watches me as I head to the counter. “Good luck,” she says, her voice teasing but there’s warmth in her eyes too. “You’ve got this, .”
I give her a nod, confused. “Er, thanks, Becki.”
I head to Snowpack with the bouquet tucked under my arm, my thoughts racing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve never been great at this whole "trying to win someone over" thing, but with Star, it feels different. She feels different.
When I get to the cafe, Ruby’s behind the counter, wiping down the surface with a rag. She looks up when I walk in, and I’m relieved to see that she’s not too busy.
“Hey, Ruby,” I say, my voice tight. “Is Star here?”
Ruby shakes her head. “No, not yet. She’s on later this afternoon, though.”
I hesitate for a moment, then pull the tulips out of the paper wrapping and set them down on the counter, along with a note I wrote in the quiet of the morning.
“Can you give these to her when she comes in?” I ask. “Tell her I had an amazing time last night. And, uh, tell her I’d love to meet her at the sandy bank by the river after her shift for a late-night picnic, if she’s up for it.” I’m stammering, but I hardly care. It’s more important to get the words out, no matter how clumsily.
Ruby looks at the flowers and the note, and then up at me, her eyes dancing. “Sure thing, . I’ll let her know.”
I give a nod and turn to leave, the uncertainty still sitting heavy in my chest. What if Star doesn’t want to see me again? What if I’m reading this all wrong?
But I can’t back out now. I’ve got to at least give Star a chance to decide. The ball’s in her court now.
And no matter what happens, I’m going to do my best to be the kind of man she deserves. The kind of man who will show her she can trust again, who will be there when she needs him.