We were all sitting together at this huge table. I had Gia on one side of me and Nilusha on the other, with Matteo, Dasha, the photographer (Angie), and this guy Marcus near us. He’d introduced himself to us earlier today by saying he had fifty thousand followers on Instagramand even more on TikTok. Since then, he’d been following Gia around like a puppy.
“This place is so beautiful,” Nilusha said, snapping a picture of the patio. “It makes me miss Paris, though. There was this one bistro where I had the most amazing little pistachio falafel...Tahira, you would have loved the floral arrangements there. It was a complete explosion of flowers in the planter boxes, like so many Paris patios, but they were all monochromatic white like the stuff you’ve been designing. It was such a departure from the more colorful arrangements everywhere else.”
“Oh,” Dasha said, smiling at me. “Are you into floral design? I thought Matteo said you weren’t into naturals?”
Gia snorted before I could answer. “She’s totally not normally into flowers, but when in Rome! We’ve been roughing it in the sticks all summer. Seriously, a total cow town. We came back for this shoot.”
I frowned at Gia. Yeah, I’d thought the same thing about Bakewell at first, but I knew she didn’t still think about it that way.
“And you’ve been flower arranging there?” Dasha asked me.
“Yeah,” I said. “My...friend has been teaching me. I kind of love it.” I looked again at the hibiscus arrangements. The big blooms were accented with philodendron leaves, but I thought the large greenery didn’t do anything for the flowers. I would have used more delicate ferns.
I smiled at Dasha. “Mostly I’ve been working in my aunt’s boutique, though. She wanted to bring in a new younger line, and I was helping her roll it out. Branding, buying, merchandising. It’s been fun.”
“Totally fun,” Gia said. “And I feel like we’ve, you know, reconnected with a simpler life. A couple of days ago, we were even hanging out at a farm! Can you imagine? But I’m glad to be back to the city. Those rural communities are so monolithic, you know? Everyone is the same. There is no originality. I’m glad to be around, you know,coolpeople again.” She smiled at Marcus.
“You mean everyone is white and straight out there,” Angie said, dipping a tortilla chip into a green salsa.
I shook my head. “Actually, it’s pretty diverse for such a small town.”
“Yeah, but they’re all into the same thing,” Gia said. “Flowers.Like, seriously—I know florals are hot right now, but indesign. Not actual flowers. We were even supposed to be doing this flower-arranging thing this weekend.” Gia grinned at Marcus again. “This is so much better. Flower nerds have no chill. I’m glad to be back with people who know how to enjoy themselves.”
Who exactly was Gia talking about? Cameron? Juniper? Rowan? Was this just to look cool in front of these people, or did she actually believe these things?
“Seriously, Gia?” I asked. “You were all about taking pictures of flowers from the moment we got there. And you didn’t seem to have an issue spending all your time there with locals.” One, in particular, but I doubted she wanted me to mention Cameron now that she was flirting with this guy.
Gia gave me her sweet smile. “I was trying to help you make the best out of a shitty situation.” She turned to Dasha. “It’s all good now, though. We have one more week there; then we’ll be back to civilization.”
“I love those cutesy small towns for the aesthetic, but the people are just exhausting,” Dasha said.
“Exactly,” Gia agreed.
“I thought you made friends there, Gia?” Matteo asked. Even he seemed to notice how ridiculous his cousin was being today.
Gia snorted. “With who? Addison, the bitchiest, meanestmean girlI’ve ever met? Or Juniper, real name, by the way? The girl only talks about three things: flowers, books, and her dead grandma. Yet her mouth never stops moving. Then there’s Leanne. She’s a unique one. Bit of a hillbilly. Obsessed with her rabbits and teaches them to jump through hoops, which must be some sort of animal cruelty. Only thinginteresting about Juniper and Leanne is that they are secretly totally into each other, but like everyone else there, they’re so backward they won’t act on it.”
I blinked at Gia. She was going way too far.
Matteo laughed. “Everyone couldn’t have been bad, considering you and Tahira both hooked up there.”
Gia gave Marcus a flirty giggle. “Nothing serious. Just a fling to get me through the summer.” She winked at him. “A girl has needs, you know? And you can’t blame Tahira for claiming Rowan for herself. I mean, did youseethe guy on her Insta? He’s hotter than sin, and he’s a gifted artist. Too bad he has the personality of a...” She looked at me. “What was it you said? He’s got the personality of a garden slug?” She laughed. “But oh my God, the engagement on her page from those pictures.Phew.He even got her into that sunflower field before it was open to the public. Worth it, I’d say.”
What. The. Hell.Did Gia seriously think I wasusingRowan for my Instagram? I wanted to tell her off...sheknewthat wasn’t true. She knew how much Rowan and Juniper meant to me.
Or did she? That first day Rowan kissed me, I’d really wanted to talk to Gia about him. Even before that, I’d wanted to talk to her as soon as I noticed that I’d caught feelings for the guy. But she hadn’t been around. She’d been with Cameron, who I’d thought she was actually really into but who she now was ready to dump for this guy who had fifty thousand followers.
But even if she didn’t know how much Rowan meant to me, she did know I wouldneveruse someone like that. I mean, she knew I dumped Matteo as soon as I found out he was using that Alyssa person for her party invitations.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to yell that yes, Bakewell started out being torture, but it turned out to be wonderful. I wanted to say that Juniper was sweeter, kinder, and more loyal to her friends than anyof the phonies at this table. That being alone in a sunflower field was a more transcendent experience than any photo shoot or rooftop party.
That I’d take a flower nerd any day over a flighty, opportunistic, long-waisted, gaslighting cheater.
But this wasn’t the right crowd to hear me admit that I really wasn’t feeling this life anymore.
Nilusha started talking about the Paris streetwear scene, which was a bit different from the North American scene. I struggled to pay attention. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t, because this—the recognition, the networking, the ass-kissing—was all necessary to get where I wanted to be.
I loved fashion. I loved design. I wanted that feeling of being completely engrossed in the perfect flow of creating something. Seeing something go from a two-dimensional drawing to a three-dimensional garment and, finally, seeing it on a real person.
