Holding in a sneeze from just thinking about it, I opened the Bakewell Festival of Flowers website on my phone and found the page for the competition. After scrolling through pictures of last year’s winners, I realized two things. One: Rowan’s gift with floral design wasn’t unique around here. Many of the large architectural entries were amazing. But the second thing? The dried-out flower rabbit on the Johnstons’ front lawn was Rowan’s Bloom entry from last year, and it was spectacular—when it was fresh. Filled with vibrant flowers in so many colors. It was lush, interesting, and...alive. The lines, the color gradients—it didn’t look like a rabbit but like some sort of magical forest god.
I frowned.
It was slightly annoying that the guy was a wicked talented artist. His work stood out even among the rest of the serious flower skills people had around here.
And yup, the Bloom grand prize was a trip to New York and entry into this Floral Cup in late October. The New York competition washuge—they averaged over three hundred entries—and it would take serious hustle to catch the attention of Christopher Chan there. That wasn’t a problem for me: Hustle was practically my middle name. (Actually it was Huma, but close enough.)
But I needed towinthe Bakewell competition first, and as I saw it, there were three roadblocks in my way. One: this was a team competition, and I had no team. Two: I knew nothing about flowers, floral design, or flower sculptures, and I was sure YouTube could only take me so far. And three: the whole allergy problem. I sneezed again. The antihistamines I took daily wouldn’t cut it. I wondered about the feasibility of flower arranging from inside a big plastic bubble. But honestly, problems one and two were the biggest. I needed a new Plan.
Rowan was still across the yard wearing headphones. He had said he was entering the competition with Leanne, so therewasroom on his team for me, even if June agreed to join, since teams could be three or four members. But...of course,no. I wouldn’t subject myself to being on a team with someone who hated me.
I needed myownteam. Who would I recruit to join me? Gia, of course. Too bad Matteo wasn’t here because he’d totally do it. Shar? Maybe. But her back problems would probably be an issue. Juniper was the obvious choice, but she herself had said she didn’t want to enter, and the last thing I wanted was to be yet another person begging Juniper to be on their Bloom team.
But maybe Juniper would join with me? Maybe the reason she’d said no to Rowan and Addison wasn’t that she didn’t want to do the Bloom, but that she didn’t want to play second fiddle to her flower-genius brother or be anywhere near Addison “Wannabe Regina George Mean Girl” McLaughlin. I mean,Ididn’t want to be on a team with either of them.
I texted her and invited her for tea after dinner, since I’d learned that was something she loved when we’d gone to Hyacinth’s together.
Yes! Want me to make the tea? I have some of Hyacinth’s chai blend. Or maybe the lavender chamomile tea bags they sell at the nursery? What time? Where should we meet? In the backyard, I assume. OMG one day I’m going to have to take you to the fields behind the nursery—although that’s better for a picnic, not just tea.
I chuckled. Juniper texting was just like Juniper talking. I wrote back with a time and told her I’d take care of the tea.
I headed to the tiny house to call Matteo to eliminate any possibility of Rowan possibly eavesdropping. My mood was already monumentally improved after talking to Nilusha, but Matteo made me feel even better. He was supportive and kind and comforted me about what had happened at Lilybuds. He said I’d definitely done the right thing by getting advice from Nilusha, and he loved my idea of entering the flower competition.
After the call, I did a quick Google search and settled into my bed on the loft to read everything I could about floral sculpture. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it like a Janmohammad. I was going to give it everything I had.
A few hours later, Gia got home.
“T, come down here so I can hug you,” she called up.
“Why do you want to hug me?” I called back, confused. My brain was mush from all the floral design theory I’d just binged.
“Your beautiful dreams werecrushedtoday! Destroyed! Your future was squashed like an ant on a sidewalk! You must bedevastated!”
I’d been feeling okay since I had a new plan, but when she put it that way, I felt kind of sucky again.
“I’ve been so distraught all afternoon!” Gia continued, her voice so melodramatic that I fully expected her to have a weak wrist on her forehead. “Tell me, my sweet, unfortunate friend, how can I support you in this difficult time?”
“First of all, you can stop calling me your ‘unfortunate friend.’” I poked my head over the railing of the loft. “G, what are you wearing?”
She stood there in purple tie-dyed overalls.
“I bought them from the store.” She grinned, looking down at herself. “You said you liked the overalls there.”
“Okay, but the ones I liked were black linen. Not...” I tried to identify the fabric. “Rayon batik. Purple, at that.”
“I’m trying a new look, remember? This is the kind of thing country people wear, right?”
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t really want to get into that right now. I nodded. “Sure. Totally rocking the rural-chic vibe. Look, I’m okay. I’m totally not giving up on FIT. I have an idea to salvage my application. We’re meeting Juniper for tea after dinner to discuss it.”
Gia beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yay!Yay, yay, yay!That’s my Tahira! Always a solution for every setback. Seriously, you’re an inspiration.” She reached up to pat my cheek, which wasn’t something I remembered my friend ever doing. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “I’m completely on board, whatever it is.”
I was about to tell her about my call with Nilusha when Gia’s phone rang. She glanced at it. “Oh, I need to take this. We can chat later, right? I’ve been trying to find a salon around here that does hair-bond-building treatments, and this is the first one to actually return my call.”
I nodded.
Gia was on the phone looking for hairstylists until dinner, while I kept up my floral sculpture research. I had a lot to learn, but I was ready for the challenge.
After dinner, the three of us sat around the low table in the yard, sipping the chai my aunt had helped me make and listening to Juniper tell us about her day.
