James spritzed the roses with a small dosage of Ever-Glow Flower Feed. He had only chosen this job because his friend Samuel had begged him to. He picked up the bouquet, finally done with his shift. He sighed, running his fingers up the stem and across the petals. “You just need some care,” he whispered, pressing the cut stem against a tattoo on his lower arm. The leaves swelled, the petals regained their natural flush, and a new bud emerged. “There you go,” James whispered to the flowers. “That should last you a bit.”

     "Are you talking to those flowers?" A chipper girly tone interrupted his thoughts. "James, right? From Rootfield High?"

     "Yeah, uh, yes, that's him - that's my - Yeah, I'm James. Sorry," he stuttered. “If you want to buy a bouquet for your special someone this Valentine’s Day, uh, you gotta talk to Mr. McCorski. He has the next shift-”

     “I’m not really here for flowers, silly. Why would I waste my time on something that just gives me more work?” The girl tucked her golden hair behind her ear. “Rumor has it you only got this job because your mom bribed the owner. I mean, how dumb is that? Paying money just to get more? Honestly, the ‘adults’ in this town just baffle me.”

     “I - I guess, uh, I guess so,” James whispered. He looked down at the roses he was holding. He could feel his hands tighten around the fresh sprouts. “Mother didn’t pay them, I don’t think, miss.”

     The girl gave him a puzzled look. “You can just call me Charlene,” she giggled. “We go to the same school, silly, you don’t have to call me miss.”

     "S-sorry, it's just what I'm used to. Well, anyways, your name is cool. Sounds like a fancy ch-cherry drink."

Charlene giggled again, raising a hand for a high-five. "You're a weird kid, James Stuart. Good thing I like weird. Silly."

     She left James with a smitten grin and a face as red as the roses he was still clutching.

     “Her dress and her hair flow with the grace of a swan / Her words as piercing as lime / I met her eyes and she met mine / Though I fear I shall never see the Cherry dawn / I’ll always bide my time,” James wrote in his diary. “How’s that, Ron? D’you think she’ll like that?”

     “I think you’re moving too fast.” Ronald scoffed, taking the fountain pen from his friend’s hand. “Listen, you just met this girl, Jamie. What was it, two days ago? A girl like that would need you to care for her, you know? She wouldn’t be ready for you. And besides, what would Sammy think?”

     “Sammy doesn’t care. I already told you he doesn’t like me like that. We’re…just friends.” James started to fiddle with a gem on his desk. “...fine, I’ll hold off,” he grumbled as Ronald gave him a stern look. 

     “Besides,” Ronald continued, “You and I are just friends, but I’m also your roommate. Who says you can’t be more as well. And you have to focus on your studies. Wouldn’t want Mother to be upset, would you? Here,” Ronald said, taking a dark opalite comb and beginning to brush the other child’s hair. “You have to start getting ready for the party tonight.”