Date: Tue, 18 Jan 2005 21:00:45 -0500 (EST)
From: Sean R <seanr_13@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Wilted Petals - 3

Wilted Petals
By: Sean Roberts

Author's Note: I really appreciate any feedback you have.  Please send to
seanr_13@yahoo.ca

Chapter 3

She thinks of him sometimes, when she is alone.  Like
tonight.  She has finished dinner with her parents and is
soaking in her tub, the bubbles making her smell like vanilla
and a hot cup of tea beside her.  These are pleasures she
doesn't have time for in the morning, so she takes advantage of
the time she has in the evenings to indulge herself.  It is the
warmth that she wants and needs, the comforting heat of the
water and the tea.

She wonders about him.  She knows that she loves him but
there is no attraction, no desire to be closer to him than she
is.  But she wonders: If she wasn't a lesbian, what would happen
with him?  Would they be having sex?  She allows Leslie, another
woman, to penetrate her--but would she allow the same thing from
a boy?

"I'm sorry," she whispers to him.  She knows what it must
feel like for him to not have his feelings reciprocated; to
constantly have to put in vast amounts of effort just to spend a
little bit of time with her, time during which she remains as
distant as she can, not wanting to give him the wrong impression
or allow him to get any closer.  This is not the first time she
has said this to him, but she has never said it when he is
there.



In his own home Jonathan sits on a couch, his older brother
and younger sister in the same room.  Together they're playing
Monopoly.  The three siblings spending time together is a very
rare occurrence.  But he asked them for this.  After seeing
Johanna he always needed a distraction so that he wouldn't have
to endure the pain that came with thinking about her too much.

"Have you ever wanted to give up?" he asks Brian when his
sister leaves the room to get herself a drink.

"Give up what?"

"Whatever.  Anything.  Something you've been working
towards that's probably never going to happen.  A girl."

"Of course I have.  What could be easier?  Spend a bit of
time getting over her and then move on.  But you won't end up
with her if you do that.  I've seen the way she looks at you."

"What are you talking about?"

"When we slept in the same room last week because of the
renovations, you said her name in your sleep, a lot.  I don't
think you should give that up."  Brian gives his brother a
friendly pat on the back before their sister returns, ready to
finish the game.

*

A small room full of books.  The English department's book
room needs to be organized.  There are books in the wrong
places, stacks of them on the floors and in boxes.  Mrs. Walker
wants volunteers.  Johanna's hand goes up in the air and
Jonathan's follows reluctantly.  Mrs. Walker smiles.  "I'm sure
Leslie will help too," Johanna says.

"Why's he here?" Leslie whispers in Johanna's ear.  Johanna
shrugs.

"He volunteered.  And since when don't you like having him
around?"

"It's not that.  I just though we could have been alone in
a small room together for a few hours."  She has a mischievous
smile on her face, which leaves when Jonathan walks over to them
carrying a box.

"These go on the shelf right above you," he says.  Together
the three of them begin to unload books.  Jonathan squeezes
himself in between the two girls to do it.  "I almost forgot!
You know that Egyptian wing in the museum that's supposed to
open next week?  My uncle said he could get me in this weekend.
It's all set up, and it's there for the people who worked on it
to see.  And since you like taking pictures and stuff, I thought
it might be nice to see when it's not crowded.  We can go at
night, when nobody else will be there."  Johanna stops what
she's doing to look at him, deciding whether or not to take him
up on his offer.  She glances at Leslie.  "And you too of
course," Jonathan says, turning towards Leslie.  "Wouldn't be
any fun without you."  He laughs.  "And they have some pretty
neat stuff from what I've been told."

"It'll give me a good opportunity to use my new camera,"
Johanna says.

"You got a new camera?"

"Yeah, it's digital.  The pictures so far have come out
well."

"That's awesome.  How about I pick you up at six?  We could
all have dinner and then go.  Leslie you're in right?"

"Six sounds good," she says.

"Great."



An hour later Leslie says she's going to get some sodas.
Instead of offering to go for her, Jonathan quickly takes out
his wallet and gives her some money.  She refuses to take it
from him, as they are friends, but he insists and she leaves the
room.

"Finally!" Jonathan says as soon as the door shuts behind
Leslie.  "I need to ask you something Johanna."

"The answer is no."

"Not that.  I need to know how you feel about me Johanna.
Whatever it is, I just need to know."

"You know Jonathan."

"No, I don't know."

"You don't know because your dick does all your thinking
for you!  If, for even one minute, you could get past trying to
see me, I wouldn't need to tell you.  If you've ever paid any
attention to me, you would know."

They hear the click of the door.  Leslie has returned with
the sodas, which she hands to them.  They sit down on boxes to
drink them, a silent break.  After they have started again he
asks Johanna if he can see her alone for a moment.

"What do you want now?" she asks harshly when they are in
the hallway.

"One evening.  Just one evening and I'll never bring it up
again.  Find some way to get rid of Leslie on Saturday, spend
the time with me, alone."

"No."

He grabs her arms firmly, holding her, looking into her
eyes.

"Why not?" he asks.  His hold on her arm isn't violent, it
is desperate.  When he touched her just now, her first thought
was to hurt him back, but something freezes her to the spot.
His eyes.  Inside them she doesn't see blue or black or white.
She sees desperation, longing, love.

"I'll give you Saturday," she says softly.  "Jonathan you
don't want to know why I keep saying no.  But, if you won't take
my word for it, I'll tell you on Saturday if you ask.  I'll get
rid of Leslie too.  Okay?"  He let's go of her arms, saying a
soft thank-you.  They return to the books and in thirty minutes
they are finished.



She calls her parents from the restaurant and tells them
she will not be home for dinner.  As soon as she ends the call
she tells Leslie: he's in love with me.  He's never said it but
I can tell.  All he's ever asked is that I go on a date with him
and every time I've told him that I can't.  But I can't do that
to him anymore.  He asked me for just one evening and an
explanation and I said I would give him Saturday.  I told him
that he doesn't want to know the reason but if he asks me again
on the weekend I'll tell him.  I have to tell him if he wants to
know.  He's earned that much.

"And you have absolutely no feelings for him?"

"None whatsoever."

Leslie nods and takes a sip of her water.



The girls have agreed never to share their secret.  They
are not naïve enough to believe that the world they live in--
their families and classmates and friends--will accept who they
are, or understand what they share.

Leslie has also seen the look in Jonathan's eyes; has
noticed the way he acts around the woman they both love.  She
doesn't want their secret to get out but she knows there is no
other option.

"Well, I guess, if you really have to tell him."

Johanna smiles.

"Thank-you."

*

On Wednesday after school, Johanna and Leslie sit in the
bleachers, overlooking the school's soccer field.  There are few
people there.  It is not a game but a practice.  Many of the
players' girlfriends are there, but Leslie and Johanna are there
for Jonathan, something they have been doing with him since they
met him in the tenth grade.

The sun is out.  The grass is a bright green from the blend
of sun and rain it received during the summer.



It was the middle of the year and they had nothing better
to do.  This was the time Johanna and Leslie were nothing more
than best friends and future lovers, though they did not know it
yet.

They stayed behind on the bleachers, after the game was
over.  They had started a conversation during the game that was
not yet over.  They sat and talked as all of the players left,
as the other spectators left, until they were alone.  The sun
had almost abandoned them.  It was not yet shining on the moon
but it had turned the sky a bright pink.  It was a beautiful
evening.

They did not even notice the silence around them until they
heard voices on the field.  There were five people, probably
from the team.  They had run out onto the field, one person in
the lead.  But suddenly four of them caught up with him, and he
disappeared.

The girls heard various swears and screams; they knew
immediately what was happening.  "Come on, let's go!" Leslie
yelled urgently, jumping up and running through the bleachers,
trying to get to them.  She did not think about the fact that
four boys in the middle of something like this may not look
kindly upon being interrupted, least of all by a girl.

There was nobody behind her.  Johanna was frozen to her
seat, watching the circle of boys with wide, fearful eyes.  The
feeling in her stomach was that of absolute terror.  A gang of
boys.  She was turning pale, her arms holding tightly onto the
bench she was sitting on.  She started to shake, and did not
move from her seat until she saw Leslie in front of her, running
up to the group, yelling something at them.

"No Leslie!  They'll hurt you!" Johanna said quietly,
thinking she was yelling but unable to produce more than a
whisper.

Two minutes later the boys were gone and Johanna could see
only Leslie, leaning over something.  The boy in the lead.
Leslie told her later that she threatened to call the principal.
One of the boys told Leslie they'd do the same to her if she
said anything to anybody, but they were just boys and much too
scared of what would happen to them for what they were doing.
Finally one of them had said, "I think we've done enough guys,
let's just leave him with his girlfriend."  Leslie stood there,
her head high in the air as the four boys walked by her, each
one insulting her in some filthy way before walking off.  The
moment they were behind her she swooped down over Jonathan.

There wasn't very much light so she could not really see
what they had done to him.  "Are you okay?" was the first thing
she said.  He groaned and nodded slightly.  "Do you think you
can stand up?"  She took his arm and helped him.  It was painful
but he managed to stand; nothing was broken.

Leslie led him into the front hallway of the school, where
there was still light.  She knew she didn't want to look at him,
and managed to avoid seeing his face as she propped him up on
the floor against a wall and said she was going to get help.

Moments later Johanna opened the front door to the school
and saw him sitting, in obvious pain, on the floor against the
wall.  He had bruises and sweat all over his face.  There was
not a lot of blood and his shirt was ripped in various places.
His jeans were dirty but seemed not to have suffered any damage.

Johanna knelt down beside him and held his wrists, staring
into his closed eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked.  Painfully, the boy opened his
eyes.  They were blue.  She smiled at him, told him that it was
okay, that she was a friend.  Despite the pain in his face he
smiled back, suddenly unable to close his eyes again.

Leslie returned, recoiling when she saw the shape his face
was in.  "There's nobody here," she said quickly.  "I think we
should call the cops."  The boy groaned no.

"I'm okay," he said painfully.  "No cops.  Just give me a
few minutes."  Leslie sighed, stood up and walked away again.
Johanna lifted the backpack she had brought with her, and put it
beside him.

"What's your name?" she asked him as she lowered his head
and put her knapsack behind it for him to use as a pillow.

"Jonathan," he said slowly, a small rasp in his voice.

"I'm Johanna," she said, making sure not to stop smiling.
Leslie was back suddenly, with wet paper towels from the
washroom.  Johanna took them from her and began lightly dabbing
his face.  When she was finished, she began to feel his body--
first lightly squeezing different parts of his arm and then
applying small amounts of pressure to various parts of his chest
and stomach, making sure nothing was broken.  She didn't really
know what she was doing; she didn't know how to tell but she
figured if something was broken she would know.

The damp cloths seemed to have revived him, and he sat up.
His eyes were still open and he stared at Johanna.  "Thanks," he
said, forcing himself to smile.  He turned and looked at Leslie.
"I'm okay guys.  Thanks."  The girls giggled because he called
them "guys".  He stood up, the kneeling girls doing the same
thing.

They walked him home.  "It's gonna be fun explaining this
to my parents," he said when they were standing outside his
front door.  Johanna caressed his arm before they said goodbye.

Two days later he saw them walking home from school.  He
jogged up to them, walking between them.  "Hey!" he said
enthusiastically.  He looked much better.  The bruises were
still there but he seemed happy.  The girls' pace slowed as he
started talking to them.

"Listen," he said.  "I know this is kind of lame, but I
wanted some way to say thanks for--" He stopped walking and
began rummaging around in his jacket pockets.  He found what he
was looking for.

"Friendship bracelets!" Leslie exclaimed.

"That's so sweet!" Johanna said with just as much
enthusiasm.  Jonathan was looking embarrassed, so the girls,
simultaneously, kissed the two sides of his cheeks, causing him
to turn a very bright red.



He scores a spectacular goal and Leslie and Johanna cheer
louder than anybody else.  When he hears them he looks up at
them.  They are far away from him but they know he's smiling at
them.  Johanna and Leslie's minds, at the same time, jump back
to the day before.  Leslie, who was more upset about the
situation than she let on, turns to her lover and realizes why
he must feel the way he does about Johanna.  Johanna, who for
two years has managed to keep this secret from him, begins to
hope he will not ask her to reveal it, even though she knows
it's best for him to find out.