The Church and Its Orbs - Chapter 4 Redo
I'm rewriting my Gemma story, which is tentatively titled The Church and Its Orbs. This a redo of the fourth chapter. The previous chapters are linked below.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3
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“I can’t wait until they start handing out Sweetheart Flowers,” Lila sighs, looking lost in thought.
I nod and try to smile. While I may not like the tradition, that doesn’t mean I should openly disparage it, especially not to my best friend. She wants a flower more than anything, and she can’t seem to talk about anything else. The whole school, at least the girls, can’t seem to talk about anything else.
Right now, though, we should be studying -- we even managed to find a private study room in the library. Of course, Lila took that to mean she could talk as loudly and as much as she wanted to.
“They’re starting tomorrow,” she says. She pauses. “I wonder which girl is going to get a flower from Kai. Everyone is going to hate her.”
“Why?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Lila rolls her eyes. “You’re so clueless sometimes. He’s one of the most desirable guys in the entire school. Everyone will be jealous of the girl who gets his flower.” She then narrows her eyes at me. “I mean, won’t you be jealous? I know you think he’s hot.”
Oh right, I let her think I have a crush on Kai.
“Well, it’s unlikely he would give me a flower, so I’m not going to...bother being jealous,” I mutter before turning my attention to my schoolwork.
“You can’t just decide not to be jealous, Gemma. That’s not how emotions work,” she says, shaking her head. None of her schoolbooks are open, I notice.
I glare at my assignment -- I need to write a report on The Tale of the Golden Prince, and it must include “original thought.” That direction confuses me, because I somehow don’t think Dr. Francis wants truly original thought. If I dared to write down that it wasn’t my favorite Church fairy tale, I think he would take points off. What can I say about the story that’s new, though? I think I need to repeat what was said in class, only with different vocabulary.
“I know how emotions work,” I grumble. I pick up my pen and twirl it between my fingers, trying to figure out just how to make this report happen.
It doesn’t want to happen -- I can’t concentrate on it at all. That isn’t good, because I need to do well on it. I think this whole Sweetheart Flower thing is bothering me, somehow -- all the excitement is throwing me off.
The event should be over soon enough, at least?
* * *
The next day, Lila and I sit in homeroom waiting for it to start.
She leans on her desk, supporting her weight with crossed arms. “Can’t school start a couple hours later?” she grumbles.
I have to agree with her -- it’s definitely too early in the morning for dealing with homeroom, especially as my day did not start off weel. I managed to get to school on time even though my mom made me take the bus. Ruby got a ride with her friend Marguerite, and Mom didn’t want to bother driving me if it were just me.
“It’s not worth it if Ruby already got a ride,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do today. Just take the bus.”
Her response seriously annoyed me; I even felt myself shaking -- Mom drives Ruby on days when she had a lot of work to do. Luckily, the public bus I had to take to school skipped a bunch of stops today, letting me arrive with time to spare.
Mr. Brady is chatting with Charlotte -- he appears to tell some kind of joke, because she laughs before she takes her seat.
Soon enough, it’s time for the morning announcements. The television turns on -- displaying, of course, Ruby and Marguerite. Why does it feel like my sister haunts me, even when I’m not around her? They’re not wearing mourning whites, at least. Both girls hold the fake flowers for the Sweetheart Flower tradition.
“Guess what?” Marguerite chirps. “Today, messengers from the Popular Prayer Club will be giving out Sweetheart Flowers to some very lucky girls. But, before we say any more about that, let’s have a minute for prayer.”
She and Ruby close their eyes, as if they’re in prayer. I close my eyes as well.
Is it blasphemy if I pray that I don’t get a flower?
I know that it’s a honor to get one, but I just -- am not ready to get a flower from any guy I know. The gods should understand that, right? Even if it is praying for a triviality. I hope so, because I can’t help wishing that I’ll be ignored in this, even if Ruby will inevitably mock me for not getting any flowers.
“Okay, prayer time’s over,” Marguerite says.
Ruby holds up her flower. “Like my friend said, each girl who’s been chosen will receive one of these lovely flowers. The messengers will be appearing throughout the day -- don’t worry, we will find you, be it in class or in the cafeteria or wherever you’re hiding.” She smiles widely.
Despite what my sister said, I do worry.
* * *
Nobody bothered me during any of my morning classes, so I think I might have escaped. Several girls in my classes this morning did, in fact, receive flowers. If I were to be targeted, surely I would have been already?
Lila looks defeated -- her body sags as we wait on the line to pay for our food at the cafeteria. She hasn’t said anything, but I’m assuming she didn’t get any flowers yet.
“It’s still early,” I say.
She avoids my eyes. “I suppose,” she mutters. “Halle Michaels got two flowers already. And she’s not even cute.”
I can’t help shaking my head. “It’s not always about who’s cute, Lila,” I say.
“Whatever,” she says.
When we sit down, I hope we can talk about something besides who’s cute enough to get a flower from a boy.
Unfortunately, we don’t have much time to talk because Ruby, of all people, prances towards our out of the way table. And she’s hold a pink flower, with little card attached. My stomach sinks -- that’s not for me, is it?
She smiles at me, ignoring Lila completely, but her eyes have no warmth in them. Ruby points the flower towards me, and I feel my whole body tense up. “Hello, Gemma. How are you?” she says.
“I’m fine,” I mutter as I fold my hands in my lap.
Lila glares at me, obvious jealousy burning in her eyes. I don’t want this.
Then, Ruby lifts the flower away from me. “It’s not for you,” she mutters. “So sorry to get your hopes up.”
“Then why are you even here?” I ask, glaring at her.
“You should be nicer to your sister. You may not be attractive to guys, but that doesn’t mean you should be rude about it,” she murmurs. She smiles again, and it still doesn’t reach her eyes.
I say nothing to that and just glare at her some more. Right now, I do not to deal with Ruby and her fake smiles. It would look bad if I punched her, but I want to. Part of me also wishes Lila would defend me, but I know it would be unseemly to get into an argument with a purple orb in front of the whole cafeteria.
She points the flower towards Lila, who looks up, her eyes shining with hope.
“Yes, the flower is for you, Lila,” she says. She hands the flower to my friend. “You’re someone’s Sweetheart. May your relationship be blessed.” With a little wave, she turns around and leaves.
“I hate her,” I mutter under my breath.
Lila doesn’t appear to hear me. “I got a Sweetheart Flower,” she breathes. She looks at the card. “From Oliver. He does like me.”
“I can see that you got a flower,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Why did Ruby have to be the one to hand Lila her flower?
I turn away from my friend, not wanting to watch her almost reverent expression. It’s the kind of expression that should be reserved for church, not a silly high school tradition. Unfortunately, my eyes fall on Wren -- she’s got her own Sweetheart Flower and is smiling brightly.
Something about that feels wrong -- she doesn’t seem like the type who would want a flower. The thing even seems to clash with her black outfit. Who is the flower from? Despite myself, I want to know.
All too soon, I find out. She walks up to Kai and plants a kiss on his cheek. All eyes in the cafeteria are on her -- Kai really is that popular. The envy stretches the air.
“He likes her?” Lila breathes. Her jaw drops.
“I guess so,” I say.
Why does that bother me?
next chapter
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3
---------
“I can’t wait until they start handing out Sweetheart Flowers,” Lila sighs, looking lost in thought.
I nod and try to smile. While I may not like the tradition, that doesn’t mean I should openly disparage it, especially not to my best friend. She wants a flower more than anything, and she can’t seem to talk about anything else. The whole school, at least the girls, can’t seem to talk about anything else.
Right now, though, we should be studying -- we even managed to find a private study room in the library. Of course, Lila took that to mean she could talk as loudly and as much as she wanted to.
“They’re starting tomorrow,” she says. She pauses. “I wonder which girl is going to get a flower from Kai. Everyone is going to hate her.”
“Why?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Lila rolls her eyes. “You’re so clueless sometimes. He’s one of the most desirable guys in the entire school. Everyone will be jealous of the girl who gets his flower.” She then narrows her eyes at me. “I mean, won’t you be jealous? I know you think he’s hot.”
Oh right, I let her think I have a crush on Kai.
“Well, it’s unlikely he would give me a flower, so I’m not going to...bother being jealous,” I mutter before turning my attention to my schoolwork.
“You can’t just decide not to be jealous, Gemma. That’s not how emotions work,” she says, shaking her head. None of her schoolbooks are open, I notice.
I glare at my assignment -- I need to write a report on The Tale of the Golden Prince, and it must include “original thought.” That direction confuses me, because I somehow don’t think Dr. Francis wants truly original thought. If I dared to write down that it wasn’t my favorite Church fairy tale, I think he would take points off. What can I say about the story that’s new, though? I think I need to repeat what was said in class, only with different vocabulary.
“I know how emotions work,” I grumble. I pick up my pen and twirl it between my fingers, trying to figure out just how to make this report happen.
It doesn’t want to happen -- I can’t concentrate on it at all. That isn’t good, because I need to do well on it. I think this whole Sweetheart Flower thing is bothering me, somehow -- all the excitement is throwing me off.
The event should be over soon enough, at least?
* * *
The next day, Lila and I sit in homeroom waiting for it to start.
She leans on her desk, supporting her weight with crossed arms. “Can’t school start a couple hours later?” she grumbles.
I have to agree with her -- it’s definitely too early in the morning for dealing with homeroom, especially as my day did not start off weel. I managed to get to school on time even though my mom made me take the bus. Ruby got a ride with her friend Marguerite, and Mom didn’t want to bother driving me if it were just me.
“It’s not worth it if Ruby already got a ride,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do today. Just take the bus.”
Her response seriously annoyed me; I even felt myself shaking -- Mom drives Ruby on days when she had a lot of work to do. Luckily, the public bus I had to take to school skipped a bunch of stops today, letting me arrive with time to spare.
Mr. Brady is chatting with Charlotte -- he appears to tell some kind of joke, because she laughs before she takes her seat.
Soon enough, it’s time for the morning announcements. The television turns on -- displaying, of course, Ruby and Marguerite. Why does it feel like my sister haunts me, even when I’m not around her? They’re not wearing mourning whites, at least. Both girls hold the fake flowers for the Sweetheart Flower tradition.
“Guess what?” Marguerite chirps. “Today, messengers from the Popular Prayer Club will be giving out Sweetheart Flowers to some very lucky girls. But, before we say any more about that, let’s have a minute for prayer.”
She and Ruby close their eyes, as if they’re in prayer. I close my eyes as well.
Is it blasphemy if I pray that I don’t get a flower?
I know that it’s a honor to get one, but I just -- am not ready to get a flower from any guy I know. The gods should understand that, right? Even if it is praying for a triviality. I hope so, because I can’t help wishing that I’ll be ignored in this, even if Ruby will inevitably mock me for not getting any flowers.
“Okay, prayer time’s over,” Marguerite says.
Ruby holds up her flower. “Like my friend said, each girl who’s been chosen will receive one of these lovely flowers. The messengers will be appearing throughout the day -- don’t worry, we will find you, be it in class or in the cafeteria or wherever you’re hiding.” She smiles widely.
Despite what my sister said, I do worry.
* * *
Nobody bothered me during any of my morning classes, so I think I might have escaped. Several girls in my classes this morning did, in fact, receive flowers. If I were to be targeted, surely I would have been already?
Lila looks defeated -- her body sags as we wait on the line to pay for our food at the cafeteria. She hasn’t said anything, but I’m assuming she didn’t get any flowers yet.
“It’s still early,” I say.
She avoids my eyes. “I suppose,” she mutters. “Halle Michaels got two flowers already. And she’s not even cute.”
I can’t help shaking my head. “It’s not always about who’s cute, Lila,” I say.
“Whatever,” she says.
When we sit down, I hope we can talk about something besides who’s cute enough to get a flower from a boy.
Unfortunately, we don’t have much time to talk because Ruby, of all people, prances towards our out of the way table. And she’s hold a pink flower, with little card attached. My stomach sinks -- that’s not for me, is it?
She smiles at me, ignoring Lila completely, but her eyes have no warmth in them. Ruby points the flower towards me, and I feel my whole body tense up. “Hello, Gemma. How are you?” she says.
“I’m fine,” I mutter as I fold my hands in my lap.
Lila glares at me, obvious jealousy burning in her eyes. I don’t want this.
Then, Ruby lifts the flower away from me. “It’s not for you,” she mutters. “So sorry to get your hopes up.”
“Then why are you even here?” I ask, glaring at her.
“You should be nicer to your sister. You may not be attractive to guys, but that doesn’t mean you should be rude about it,” she murmurs. She smiles again, and it still doesn’t reach her eyes.
I say nothing to that and just glare at her some more. Right now, I do not to deal with Ruby and her fake smiles. It would look bad if I punched her, but I want to. Part of me also wishes Lila would defend me, but I know it would be unseemly to get into an argument with a purple orb in front of the whole cafeteria.
She points the flower towards Lila, who looks up, her eyes shining with hope.
“Yes, the flower is for you, Lila,” she says. She hands the flower to my friend. “You’re someone’s Sweetheart. May your relationship be blessed.” With a little wave, she turns around and leaves.
“I hate her,” I mutter under my breath.
Lila doesn’t appear to hear me. “I got a Sweetheart Flower,” she breathes. She looks at the card. “From Oliver. He does like me.”
“I can see that you got a flower,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Why did Ruby have to be the one to hand Lila her flower?
I turn away from my friend, not wanting to watch her almost reverent expression. It’s the kind of expression that should be reserved for church, not a silly high school tradition. Unfortunately, my eyes fall on Wren -- she’s got her own Sweetheart Flower and is smiling brightly.
Something about that feels wrong -- she doesn’t seem like the type who would want a flower. The thing even seems to clash with her black outfit. Who is the flower from? Despite myself, I want to know.
All too soon, I find out. She walks up to Kai and plants a kiss on his cheek. All eyes in the cafeteria are on her -- Kai really is that popular. The envy stretches the air.
“He likes her?” Lila breathes. Her jaw drops.
“I guess so,” I say.
Why does that bother me?
next chapter