3. Rosy
THREE
ROSY
The sound of my alarm vibrating on the bedside table jolts me out of my light sleep. Sighing, I groan as I blink blearily up at the ceiling.
Pushing myself up so that I’m sitting on the side of the bed, I try to stretch out my muscles to wake myself up and my body protests after spending the night tossing and turning.
It wasn’t the worst night’s sleep, but my mind wouldn’t shut off.
It played the conversation with Nate on repeat, then reviewed all the different ways I could’ve responded or acted.
What I could’ve said, what I should’ve said, then played all the different scenarios over and over again in my head.
I’m also wondering if I should text him.
Is that the polite thing to do, or should I only message when I’m heading to the gym? Meeting new people is thrilling for a lot of people, but it just sends me into a panic. Then I spend hours and sometimes days analysing the interaction.
I grab a pair of cactus-print leggings and a loose-fitting T-shirt, along with a warm, oversized fleece jumper.
As for the message that came through last night, I’m avoiding that one, throwing that straight into the mental load we choose to ignore.
It’s not the first message like this from an unknown number I’ve received, so I’ve gotten over the initial panic.
Now it’s just a low-simmering worry in the background.
Padding out of my room in my socks, I prep a bowl of porridge and throw it into the microwave before turning the kettle on to boil as I head into the bathroom.
A quick glance in the mirror shows a pale face with purple smudges underneath my eyes, and I resist the temptation to apply makeup to cover it up.
I’m still learning to love myself, even the bits I find fault with.
I weave my hair into a French braid, quickly wash my face, and follow my skincare routine, then brush my teeth before heading back out to the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, I’m immediately grateful to have a flatmate who’s a better-functioning adult than I am. It’s fully stocked for me to be able to make a quick lunch to go and grab some snacks, along with a flask of jasmine tea.
Just as I step out the door, I walk straight into a solid body, stumbling a step back.
“Shit. Sorry, Rosy. Are you okay?” A hand grabs my arm, holding me upright as I blink up at the handsome face before me.
“Sorry, Max. I didn’t see you.” Heat creeps up my neck as he stands so close.
It’s typical I would bump into my cute neighbour when I’m wearing a fleece jumper covered in bits of straw, with a bare face and eyes that are probably still a little swollen from the lack of sleep.
“Definitely my fault for not looking where I was going. I just didn’t think anyone else would be up at this time,” he responds with a lopsided grin, his toasted brown eyes crinkling at the corners. My heart skips at how effortlessly sweet he is.
“Oh, I think you forgot your shoes in your hurry too? But those socks are the cutest, beautiful.”
My eyes widen at his compliment, then disappointment immediately crushes the warm rush. He’s probably just being nice.
“Umm, no. My shoes are in my car downstairs. I don’t like traipsing them into the flat because they get mud everywhere, so I just leave them in the car,” I say quietly, staring down at my toes wiggling in the fluffy ginger socks with cat ears on the top.
“A girl who likes to get all dirty and wear cute cat socks? Where have you been all my life?” He clutches his chest in mock surprise, and I can’t help the small laugh that bubbles out at his friendly flirting.
“It’s nothing like that. I volunteer at a rescue farm nearby on weekends, so I often come home covered in animal slobber, mud, and fur. But I don’t mind it; it’s my favourite place to be.”
“I love that you do that. I wish I could come with you, but I have to get to work.” His exaggerated pout has me fighting another laugh. “I’ll walk down with you to the car park. Who’s your favourite at the farm?”
Turning simultaneously, we walk side by side down the corridor. My body’s so aware of his presence that it takes intense focus on my feet to ensure that I don’t gravitate toward him.
“Hmm…I don’t think I can decide. They all make me so happy.
Daisy, one of the cats, is very sweet, though.
She sits on my shoulders a lot of the time while I’m working and keeps me warm when it’s cold out.
But then there’s Jerry, the Shetland pony.
He’s always ready and waiting for me when I arrive and loves to play.
” The enthusiastic rambling spills from my mouth as we walk, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Triggering a favourite subject of mine—the animals—results in an overload of information being thrown at the other person.
“Buttercup is the furriest highland cow. She will sit for hours having her hair brushed and will even let me style it for her too. I just don’t think I can choose; they’re all so different.” Cutting myself off forcefully, I duck my head so he can’t see the furious blush spreading across my face.
“You’re too cute. They’re very lucky to have someone who cares so much about them. Maybe I could come with you one day and meet them? Help out a bit too. If you need any maintenance or building done, I can get that sorted for you.”
“Max, that would honestly be amazing! There are always things we desperately need done, but there aren’t any funds to pay anyone.
So if you’re okay with volunteering your time, it would be really appreciated.
” Joy surges through me at his kind offer, my mind racing over all the things we desperately need done.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’d love to help you out. I can pop by tomorrow?”
I stop at my car and glance up at his expression, trying to determine if he’s interested in me or just being a friendly person. How are you supposed to tell without direct signals?
“If that works for you, then that would be great. It’s the Furrever Home Sanctuary.
I’ll be there at the same time tomorrow until 4 p.m., so just stop by whenever,” I reply, giving up on trying to figure out what his expectations are.
Offering a smile, I open the car door and throw my bag across to the passenger seat before placing my breakfast safely on the floor, then settling into the driver’s seat.
“See you tomorrow, Rosy. Have a great day and say hi to Jerry for me.” He shoots me a quick wink and a wave, then saunters off to a gunmetal-blue Audi.
Shaking off the lingering confusion over his interest, I start the engine and pick out my “Belt Out Loud Car Karaoke” playlist and try to focus on the list of chores I need to start when I get to the rescue.
Pulling into the parking area at the farm, I tug on my boots before grabbing my bag, then get out and walk through the gated entrance.
Inhaling deeply, I let the familiar scent of the animals and nature ground me.
I love being here, and I love how it makes me feel.
The distraction it offers creates some relief from not having to battle my brain. Sure, some days are hard and stressful, but it feels different from the anxieties that latch on when I’m away from here.
Smiling to myself, I hoist my bag further up on my shoulder and trudge over to the office. Pulling out a set of keys, I unlock the space and flop into the chair behind the desk. Plugging in my laptop, I turn it on and open the email Anita sent yesterday.
Anita runs the rescue, and during the weekdays, she’s here managing it. For the past three years, I’ve been helping to manage it on the weekends for her. There’s no salary involved, so I have to work full-time during the week to cover the cost of living, but this is the place I prefer to be.
I run through her update to make sure there’s nothing urgent, then push out of the chair and head out to the feed barn. Grabbing the buckets, I load them up with breakfast for everyone, adding the supplements and feeds they need.
Entering the fenced area, I walk over to the first wooden coop and open it up, stepping aside to let the flurry of chickens rush out, their clucks greeting me.
“Morning, Gladys, Dotty, Vera, Etta,” I call out.
“Ow, no, I didn’t forget you, Vivian. You don’t need to peck for attention.
I have your breakfast here. Just give me a minute to let the others out, please. ”
I step away from the grumpy girl, so I can quickly unlatch the second wooden coop and let the ducks waddle their way out. “Good morning, Puddles, Nora—wait, where’s Norris?”
Heading inside the structure, I quickly locate the missing duck. “Hey, sleepy girl, you know you can’t nap the whole day away.”
I stroke her feathers, laughing softly as she yawns before snapping her beak closed.
“Come on, Norris, time for breakfast,” I announce, scooping her up and carrying her outside.
Indignant clucking and pecking greet me, all the girls crowding around the enclosed bucket, impatiently demanding their breakfast.
“Okay, okay. Blame the delay on sleepyhead, not me. I was here on time,” I chime in, grabbing the bucket and shaking some of the food into the feeder, then add the rest into the large clean bowls placed around the area.
Making my way out of their gate, I head back to the feed barn, and a smile spreads across my face as I see a fluffy tabby cat waiting by the door.
“Good morning, Daisy. How has your week been?” I greet, crouching.
She runs towards me, her white-covered paws a blur. Leaping up onto my lap, she butts her face against mine in greeting.
“It was that good? Mine wasn’t too bad either. I’ll tell you all about it whilst we feed everyone.”
She jumps down and leads me back inside, ready to supervise my every move.
Once I’ve finished getting the remaining feeds made up, I grab the buckets and load them into the empty barrow. Turning towards the sassy feline, I say, “Do you want to ride shotgun or with me this morning?”
Her whiskers twitch as if in thought. Her head tips back slightly as she lets out a loud meow, stands up, then tip-taps her front paws back and forth.
“With me it is then.” I chuckle at her obvious demand and step over to the perch she’s on, bending slightly so that my shoulders dip down enough for her to leap up onto them.
She settles neatly across them, her furry body warming my neck, as a tail curls around my throat lazily and I reach up and scratch her chin lightly, inciting a low purr.
With a grin, I make my way back over to the barrow, pick up the handles, and push it out of the barn, making my way over to the first field.
“Do you remember me telling you about the cute neighbour I met a while ago? The one with the smile and messy hair?”
She chirps, and her whiskers tickle my ear.
“Of course you do. You never forget anything, Miss Daisy. Well, I talked to his flatmate this week. He goes to my gym. This time he just walked up to me and started a conversation. I was a bumbling mess, as per usual. But what do you expect? Honestly, if you’d have seen this tall, muscled man striding towards you, you’d have felt the same. ”
She chirps again, slightly indignant this time.
“No? That’s true; you’re too sassy for that. You should see him, though. All scowls, veined arms, and wide shoulders. Plus, he has the whole dark eyes, buzzed dark hair look going for him too. He’s hot and gives off the ‘I don’t give a shit’ vibe.”
A sharp whinny startles me. I’ve reached the gate but have been keeping the animals waiting in my trance. I apologise quickly, grab the three buckets and spread them out, and the ponies, Jerry, Mabel, and Gilly, eagerly consume their breakfast.
Heading back through the gate, I call, “I’ll come back in a bit, Jerry. You need some more exercise today. We need to work harder on that diet of yours!”
Scooping up the barrow, I push it to the next field where the two Highland cows, Buttercup and Iris, are standing with Squid. The sweet black-and-white Holstein male was rescued from being slaughtered, and he fits right in with the girls and is such a funny character.
Once they’ve been given their breakfast, I push the barrow to the fenced area opposite, and lean over to empty the contents of a bucket into a trough. Both pigs dive in happily, their snuffles loud in approval.
“He might’ve also given me his number…” I trail off, still unsure what to do about it. A tail slaps against my face, and I splutter, trying to avoid inhaling the long fur.
“I can’t just message him. Not everyone’s as forward as you, Daisy,” I huff at her, then shuffle into the paddock, placing the buckets down so I can swat her tail away.
Separating the feeds, I dish them out for the three goats, Harry, Matilda, and Mavis; they immediately dive in, scoffing down their meals.
Lifting the handles of the empty barrow, I head back towards the barn. “If I tell you that the cute one, Max, might have mentioned visiting you tomorrow, will you promise not to attempt to stuff your tail in my mouth again?”
Her claws dig into my shoulder briefly, then she leaps off and dashes through the wooden doors in front of me.
“What? I only found out this morning. I wasn’t keeping it from you,” I mutter and huff at her reaction. Following her inside, I smile widely. It may mainly be me on my own all day here, but it’s hard to feel lonely when you’re hounded by a feline with that much personality.