Chapter 1
Lily
It was midway through June, just past 2 PM on a Saturday.
A warm breeze danced across the living room of the small, open-plan Brooklyn apartment, the leaves of numerous house plants rustling inside. I sat on the floor beneath the large window of the living space, forgoing the couch so my back could be fully in the sun. I ate a slice of leftover cold pizza as I looked for work opportunities for the summer.
Or as soon as possible.
I was an administration assistant for Mom's real estate agency in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. A job I’ve had since graduating high school four years ago. It was a stable job with promising career growth and a generous wage, which made my search for a new job seem ridiculous. But I had my reasons for wanting to leave. Mom’s micromanaging was one.
My parents had my future planned to a tee, a blueprint that started the second I was born. The past 22 years of my life were a whirlwind of expensive schools, private tutors, getting nothing but straight As, and violin lessons as an effort to curb my obsession with drawing. That effort failed miserably. I didn’t have a musical bone in my body.
After high school, I began working for Mom immediately while studying finance in college to understand how the business worked. I left college with a degree and no passion for anything I studied, other than realizing I didn’t mind doing taxes.
Mom and Dad had high expectations for me, and therefore I had high expectations for myself. My high-functioning anxiety and debilitating inability to use the word ‘no’ was why I was still working at the agency.
After reaching the bottom of the job search website with five applications sent off and a notepad full of sketches of flowers I doodled out of boredom as I scrolled, I finally closed my laptop lid. Stretching out my back and arms as I hoped at least one application was successful.
I needed to get out of that office.
I combed my golden-brown, shoulder-length hair into a bun, got to my feet, and headed into the kitchen. I added my empty plate to the sink and turned my attention to the small pantry in the corner of the cabinetry. A half-full plastic container of strawberry macarons sat at eye level inside the pantry, so I grabbed them instantly. I did a little happy dance as I plucked a macaron from the container and took a bite.
I heard the familiar click of the front door, followed by a jingling of house keys to get them out of the lock.
“Hellooo,” my housemate sang out happily from down the hall as she entered the apartment.
“Hey,” I replied through a mouthful, moving over to the kitchen counter, container still in hand.
Kira Scott, my best friend and confidante, stepped into view. Her wild, red hair was like an extension of her personality. She radiated joy even as she attempted to balance shopping bags, a bubble tea, her hessian shoulder bag, and a brand-new houseplant in her arms. In an oversized pair of overalls, faux leather sandals, and a light green cheesecloth blouse, she resembled a boho farmer just having returned from the weekly Bay Ridge Greenmarket. She slid the plant onto the counter with a grin that crinkled the corner of her eyes.
“Meet the newest member of the family. A Boston fern.”
“It’s gorgeous,” I replied, tracing a finger over one of the soft fronds before folding my arms on the counter. “You don’t think we have enough plants though?”
Her mouth dropped open in mock offense before she turned to skip into her bedroom, fiery curls swaying as she dumped the shopping bags on her bed.
“One can never have too many plant babies,” she said defiantly.
“So, how many does this make now?” I laughed.
“Counting just the pots or each plant separately?”
“Each separately,” I said before taking another bite of my macaron.
“Well, since the succulents share, I’m guessing thirty?” she replied from her room.
“At least it isn’t cats,” I muttered with a shrug, reaching for another macaron only to realize there were none left. I pouted slightly, tossing the empty packaging into the too-full garbage can.
"What else happened today?" I asked knowingly.
From a young age, and since we met in high school, Kira was always an optimistic person. However, when something made her extremely happy, she skipped more than usual, like how she skipped back out of her room and stopped at the counter.
“Well, I met with Aiden for lunch today,” she replied, giddy with happiness. "And he surprised me with a tattoo!"
I blinked, trying to comprehend what she said. “Wait, what?”
"He got my name tattooed across his heart. How cute is that?" She was practically beaming.
