“I told you about her. She helped me get the job at H&M. Andrew’s friend. Anyway, this could be big for you and me. Alyssa said her engagement has tripled since getting on Dasha’s radar.”
“Good for her,” I said. I meant it. Getting attention from the right people meant everything in the style industry. But I felt a wave of bitterness rise up—Matteo was getting all this attention, when I’d beeneffectively ignored byDashStylefor months. I quickly pushed it down. It was fine. So much of this was luck—being in the right place at the right time. And I was honestly really happy for him. He worked so hard to increase his visibility; it was great that it was paying off for him.
We talked strategy for his page for a while, and he promised to tag me on posts so some of that LA attention could come my way, too.
“It’s too bad we don’t have any new content together,” I said. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t figured out how to get home for a visit.”
“I can ask my brother to borrow his car and come see you? We can go for a drive, get some pictures.”
“What? Can you? That would be awesome!”
“How about on the weekend? When you working?”
I pulled up my schedule on my phone. “Gia and I are both off on Sunday.”
“Perfect. I’ll get Alyssa to take my shift. I had this awesome idea for a shoot...all we need is one of those empty country roads...”
We talked for a while longer about his visit. I knew that part, or maybe most, of the reason he was coming was because he was jealous of all the summer plans Gia and I were making without him, but I didn’t care. I wanted to see him. I wanted things to be like they used to be, even for a day.
“Hey, Matteo?” I asked, pulling my covers tighter around me. Gia was in her bed, watching YouTube, but she had her earbuds in.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I’m shallow?”
He chuckled. “Tahira, you’re not letting those hicks call you names, are you?”
“No, I just...” Juniper clearly didn’t think I was too vapid to be her friend, and what did it matter if Rowan did? But I couldn’t forget the look on his face when I told them I wanted to go to New York to meet a fashion designer. He was, like, disappointed that anyone cared so much aboutfashion. Plus all those cracks he made about influencers.
“Those people can’t possibly understand you like I do,” Matteo said. “You know what you want, and you go after it. It’s my favorite thing about you.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “That and your hair.”
I laughed, a warm comfort enveloping me. “My favorite thing about you is your arms. I wish they were around me right now.”
No one got me like Matteo did. He supported me, he believed in me, and he always made me feel like there was nothing I couldn’t do. Who cared what Rowan Johnston thought about me, anyway? All he had to do was teach me floral design. Before long, I’d be back in the city, where I could leave all these doubts and these Bakewell-ites behind me. Bakewell-onians. Whatever.
I did as much online research as I could between shifts for the next few days to prepare for our first lesson on Friday—which meant I watched YouTube videos and read the blog of every floral design guru out there. So far, I was sort of seeing Nilusha’s point—floral design reminded me so much of fashion design. Watching floral designers create arrangements without preplanning, letting the shapes and colors of the flowers guide them to the finished arrangement, reminded me of draping, a technique where people designed garments by laying fabric over a dress form instead of planning them using pencil and paper. Of course, sometimes floral designs were preplanned, too. This one designer I watched on YouTube drew all his designs before making them, and I was amazed at how well he was able to imagine complicated 3D arrangements in 2D first. Honestly, I was kind of getting into floral design.
On Friday, after leaving the store at six, I found myself with Juniper at the workbench near the Johnstons’ greenhouse with a big pile of...actually, I didn’t know what that was.
“What is this stuff?” I pointed to the furry green pile.
“Sphagnum moss,” Juniper said. “We’re going to fill the chicken wire frame with it. Row will be here in a sec with the flowers.” Juniper looked adorable in loose printed pants from Lilybuds and a white cropped T-shirt. Her hair was pulled off her face with a multicolored scarf. “Where’s Gia? I figured she’d be here already since she didn’t work today.”
I pointed to my phone. “She just texted me—she’s on her way from Hyacinth’s.”
My phone vibrated. A text from Mom.
Mom:Did you get the scholarship package I mailed? I checked. The scholarship can be used for a school in the US.
Tahira:Thx but haven’t looked at it yet. I’m about to have my first floral design lesson.
Mom:Okay. Focus on that. Take pictures for your portfolio! And have fun!
I slipped my phone into my pocket.
Juniper was cutting off a piece of chicken wire from a big roll with some wire cutters. “Oh, I forgot,” she said suddenly. She dropped the cutters, hopped over to the door to the Johnstons’ house, and grabbed a mason jar from the step. “I picked some lupin from the front yard for this lesson.” The jar was filled with long, slim flowers in a deep shade of purple.
“What do these symbolize?” I asked.
