“What’s going on?” Now I’m a nasty balloon. I mean, all balloons are nasty, they’re rubbery and they stink, and they’ll burst on you in the most horrifyingly, bastardly of ways, but I have a bad feeling about this. A very, very bad feeling. The mushy, pinpricked, defective balloon that never blows up at all, or that skinny balloon that you can’t blow up with your mouth no matter how hard you try, even if you try until you’re beyond purple in the face and it feels like your head is going to literally explode kind of feeling.
“This can’t be right.”
“Just tell me.”
“Well…” Luna drags that word out, hesitating the whole way. I wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, because she’s an honest person and she knows I’ll find out for myself and she cares about me and wants to be here to soften the blow, she just goes for it. “It appears that all of the flowers in the bouquet have bad meanings. Well, maybe not bad, but uh- not pleasant. Maybe there’s some other meaning, but not according to this book. He even has some of the suggested pairings right.”
I have to admit that my eyes are stinging, and my sinuses are burning at the end of it. Why? Why do I always, always, mother freaking ALWAYS pick the assholes?
“Like what?” I manage to rasp. “Tell me.”
Luna hedges. She still doesn’t want to tell me, but she knows that she has to. “Well… I guess, for example, carnation. It means, I guess, heart pain, heartache, heartbreak. That kind of thing. Anemone can stand for betrayal, dealing again with love. I’ve never even heard of this flower, asphodel, but it’s a potent one. It means major regret, the kind that lasts to the grave, and it’s supposed to be paired with marigold, which is right there, to indicate an even more potent eff you. And that? My app tells me it’s basil, but basil, according to this, means hate. Like, yikes. And that purple one? That’s lavender, which means untrustworthiness. That pink petunia, well, I think it probably goes for any petunia, but it symbolizes spite and rage. Some of these are garden plants and others are like, from nature. They don’t look like something that can be easily found in a flower shop. He went through a lot of effort to put this together and probably paid big bucks.”
I shrug like I’m all casual over here about getting the world’s worst bouquet and a freaking book to decode it so the message isn’t even subtle. Yeah. I’m not cool. Inside I’m like a boiler that is malfunctioning and is about to freaking blow.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Luna asks bitingly. “He took the time to actually get this together? And a book? And he returned your earring? It doesn’t make sense. It’s like he’s- making fun of you or like he has a sick, sick sense of humor.”
“I didn’t get the vibe that something was off, but when is something ever right when it comes to me?” I know that smacks of self-pity, but whatever. I’ve had a year of pure assholes, hurtful moments, and disappointments to help me perfect it. This one is just the top of the top of the shit mountain that I’ve been steadily climbing. Why did I think that this one would be any different?
It makes my blood boil to think that I actually spared a thought about that night. That incredible night. That someone so awful could have been so- so charming. So wonderful. So unforgettable.
Fuming, I pick up my phone because I already have a plan. And an address. Because yes, I have a memory like an elephant, and I won’t forget the walk of shame (which was more like un-shame because I couldn’t bring myself to actually feel shame over a night that was that wonderful and doesn’t that just make me feel like a giant freak now?) anytime soon.
“Two can play at being a brown old butthole. Well, no one is going to out asshole me! He wants to be a shitbag? I have the perfect thing for him.”
Luna chuckles a dark, evil sounding chuckle that I didn’t know she was capable of making. She’s clearly wants to see this douchebag get whatever he has coming to him for hurting me and god, I love her for that. For being protective of me. For wanting me to be happy and for being hurt right alongside me when someone tries to screw me over. After uh- literally screwing- never mind. I’m cutting that off right there.
Within twenty minutes, we have a special delivery of flowers arranged for Daniel’s address. A very special bouquet. And a very handy appliance. I think it’s an appliance? I’m not sure, I just know that the hardware store was very accommodating.