HLGStrider
09-10-2003, 08:19 AM
I wrote a love story. . .so if you want to feel all nice and mushy inside, read on!
"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. . ."
One by one the petals fell to the ground. Sarah's baby sister, who had been prancing around the flower bed, stopped to watch her sister. Little Kaylee held her own daisy, but what her nineteen-year-old sister was doing with hers was more interesting.
"He loves me not," Sarah groaned as the last petal hit the soil. She dropped the stem and determinedly reached for another flower. "He loves me. . ."
The petals were starting to pile up at her feet, forming a carpet, like something flower girl's would strew about for the bride to walk upon. . .The thought made her sigh. It wasn't as if flowers had any effect whatsoever on Tad. She'd been plucking petals since she'd first fallen in love with him, the high school junior staring at the college freshman. They'd been friends for a long time before that, but it had never progressed. They'd seen less and less of each other. Now, when they had a chance to be near each other, he'd chosen to go boating with his brother instead of talking to her.
"He loves me not. He loves me."
Depressed by this, she'd separated herself from the other girls, taking Kaylee for a walk. She'd settled down away from the other picnickers to think over her feelings.
"He loves me. . ."
This daisy ended on a happier note. Most of them did, but that didn't make Tad stop ignoring her.
Kaylee started to pull petals from her daisy, babbling at it childishly.
"He love me. He love me. He love me," she chanted. Sarah laughed, wishing it was that easy for her. A group of kids passed. Her head shot up when she saw Tad's brother among them. Tad would be back then. She almost leapt up and ran to look for him, but she stopped herself. No sense in throwing herself at his feet. Groveling never made a girl more attractive. It was useless anyway.
"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not," she continued downheartedly. She heard footsteps and glanced about. No one was there. She finished the daisy and reached for what had to be the tenth.
There'd been a time when she'd believed in the powers of daisies. She'd convinced herself that God would use them as signs or that He'd put some magic within them to make their prediction come true. Truthfully, they were just fickle little flowers. If they had an odd number of petals, he loved her. If the number of petals was even, he didn't. Silly, silly, silly. . .
"Who love you?" Kaylee asked, picking another flower.
"I wish Tad did." Sarah swallowed. "I don't know." She sighed again. Kaylee shrugged, dropped her flower, and scampered down the path. Sarah picked up the daisy, determined to finish one more before going to catch her sister. "He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. . ." She stopped in shock as a hand reached down and touched her wrist. He took the flower from her and dropped it on the ground.
"He loves you," he said. He sat next to her.
Sarah was shaking, half because he'd surprised her and half because of what he'd said. She didn't dare look at him, but she knew his voice.
"How. . .how long have you been there?" she asked.
"About three daisies," he murmured. She laughed cautiously.
"Then you know who 'he' was referring to?" she asked. He nodded, grinding a dismembered flower into the dirt with his toe. She picked another flower and handed it to him. "Do you want to find out if she loves you back?" She smiled. He shook his head and tucked the daisy behind her ear.
"I'd rather you just tell me." He was gazing at her intently with a look in his eyes she'd never seen before. She didn't have time to think about her answer, but she didn't really need to.
"I love you. . .Tad."
She started to reach her hand towards his but drew back, wanting to touch him but unsure how to. He settled it for her.
His lips pressed against hers for a warm, wonderful moment. The daisy fell from her hair onto her lap. She took it in her hand. Maybe daisies were magical after all.
"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. . ."
One by one the petals fell to the ground. Sarah's baby sister, who had been prancing around the flower bed, stopped to watch her sister. Little Kaylee held her own daisy, but what her nineteen-year-old sister was doing with hers was more interesting.
"He loves me not," Sarah groaned as the last petal hit the soil. She dropped the stem and determinedly reached for another flower. "He loves me. . ."
The petals were starting to pile up at her feet, forming a carpet, like something flower girl's would strew about for the bride to walk upon. . .The thought made her sigh. It wasn't as if flowers had any effect whatsoever on Tad. She'd been plucking petals since she'd first fallen in love with him, the high school junior staring at the college freshman. They'd been friends for a long time before that, but it had never progressed. They'd seen less and less of each other. Now, when they had a chance to be near each other, he'd chosen to go boating with his brother instead of talking to her.
"He loves me not. He loves me."
Depressed by this, she'd separated herself from the other girls, taking Kaylee for a walk. She'd settled down away from the other picnickers to think over her feelings.
"He loves me. . ."
This daisy ended on a happier note. Most of them did, but that didn't make Tad stop ignoring her.
Kaylee started to pull petals from her daisy, babbling at it childishly.
"He love me. He love me. He love me," she chanted. Sarah laughed, wishing it was that easy for her. A group of kids passed. Her head shot up when she saw Tad's brother among them. Tad would be back then. She almost leapt up and ran to look for him, but she stopped herself. No sense in throwing herself at his feet. Groveling never made a girl more attractive. It was useless anyway.
"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not," she continued downheartedly. She heard footsteps and glanced about. No one was there. She finished the daisy and reached for what had to be the tenth.
There'd been a time when she'd believed in the powers of daisies. She'd convinced herself that God would use them as signs or that He'd put some magic within them to make their prediction come true. Truthfully, they were just fickle little flowers. If they had an odd number of petals, he loved her. If the number of petals was even, he didn't. Silly, silly, silly. . .
"Who love you?" Kaylee asked, picking another flower.
"I wish Tad did." Sarah swallowed. "I don't know." She sighed again. Kaylee shrugged, dropped her flower, and scampered down the path. Sarah picked up the daisy, determined to finish one more before going to catch her sister. "He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. . ." She stopped in shock as a hand reached down and touched her wrist. He took the flower from her and dropped it on the ground.
"He loves you," he said. He sat next to her.
Sarah was shaking, half because he'd surprised her and half because of what he'd said. She didn't dare look at him, but she knew his voice.
"How. . .how long have you been there?" she asked.
"About three daisies," he murmured. She laughed cautiously.
"Then you know who 'he' was referring to?" she asked. He nodded, grinding a dismembered flower into the dirt with his toe. She picked another flower and handed it to him. "Do you want to find out if she loves you back?" She smiled. He shook his head and tucked the daisy behind her ear.
"I'd rather you just tell me." He was gazing at her intently with a look in his eyes she'd never seen before. She didn't have time to think about her answer, but she didn't really need to.
"I love you. . .Tad."
She started to reach her hand towards his but drew back, wanting to touch him but unsure how to. He settled it for her.
His lips pressed against hers for a warm, wonderful moment. The daisy fell from her hair onto her lap. She took it in her hand. Maybe daisies were magical after all.