Butterfly

September 15, 2005

Tommy St. George asked me to homecoming! Me! Can you believe it? I know I can’t! I can’t believe everything worked. This year is going to be so different, I can feel it.

Grace has change, too. I see it in her eyes. I mean I try not to make too much contact with her. I know that sounds absolutely dreadful, but she would drag me down! I see her with that new girl, Brooke, all the time now. I guess they’re friends.

I’m not going to lie, I miss Grace. She was my best friend, but now my best friend is Evelyn Marcs, more commonly known as Evy. I guess I can’t really call her my best friend, or my friend for that matter. She’s basically a bitch. I know that’s quite blunt, but it’s true. She was one of the girls I was very unfortunate to meet last year. She’s a year older than me, but we’re practically connected at the hip. (Which is really unfortunate.) Oh well, it’s better than being mercilessly teased. –Rose

”Rory.”

He gave me a small side smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

…

Ok, completely awkward.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked at me sadly, an empty expression in his eyes, “The same reason you’re here, to remember.”

I took a good look at him. His hair was disheveled from constantly running his fingers through it from the stress. His eyes were slightly red, probably from crying. He was pale, as if he himself was dying. The poor boy was a mess.

It was then that it occurred to me that we weren’t kids anymore. Rory was graduating later this year; and I was going to be a senior next year. And with everything we had experienced in the past month, we had both aged mentally.

“We spent a lot of lazy summer days here; it’s hard not to remember.”

“Don’t forget winters.”

I blushed slightly, feeling his gaze follow mine to the floor. Obviously he had recalled our awkward first kiss.

“This place hasn’t changed much, how’s the garden?” Rory whispered.

“Um, it’s fine. A lot of the stuff we planted is still there, especially the, um… the roses.”

“Really? That’s nice.”

“Yea, I tried to kind of set up a memorial there for Rose… It didn’t really-“

“Can I help?”

“Can you-wait, what?”

“Can I help? Set up a memorial?” Rory looked at me shyly. I realized that we both needed this.

“Uh, sure. Come with me.”

And with that, I led him to the garden, slightly dreading and at the same time enjoying his presence.

June 5, 2002

Well, this is it. The day Rory graduates to go to high school, and leave me here. We weren’t dating or anything, I was just going to miss him.

It has always been tradition at our middle school for the seventh graders to be a part of the graduation. The eighth graders even have a last will and testament kind of thing, where they “will” something to a seventh grader as they leave. Then the seventh graders officially become the leaders of the school.

Rose and I had picked out our dresses for this event a month in advance, so we were both very excited to get ready together.

Rose was wearing a coral-colored spaghetti-strapped dress with a pink belt that came to her knees. I was wearing a baby blue strapless dress that came a little higher than my knees. Rose decided to tame her mane and actually get her hair done for the event, while I just let my hair dry straight. Having some fun, we decided to get our nails and make-up done. By the end of it, I actually looked pretty decent.

Rose looked incredible. It was the first time she truly looked beautiful. I always thought she was beautiful, but today was different. Everyone thought she was beautiful.

It was the first time she got a lot of attention from the opposite sex. Not to mention, the older opposite sex.

“Come on Gracie, we’re gonna be late! You look fine!” Rose yelled at me from across the garden. I looked at myself one last time in the mirror hanging on the wall in the cottage and walked out to Rose. She truly looked beautiful, her hair was frizz-free and soft curls framed her face. The elegance of the garden helped her to gain a more care-free, yet graceful appearance.

We left the garden behind as we both went to say good bye to the boy of my dreams.

The auditorium was practically full by the time we got there. Students were supposed to be backstage, so we slipped past our parents and took our seats behind the lowered curtain. While waiting a few moments, Rose smiled back at me. She was seated in the front row, we were sitting alphabetical. I was in the third row.

As the curtain rose, the eighth graders marched in from the back of the auditorium dressed in their finest, without graduation robes. Rory was second to walk in, he smiled when he caught my watching him. I smiled shyly to hide my blush.

After a few welcomes from the principal and the teachers and the awards, it was finally time for wills. I was so nervous, I had no idea who was going to will to me. I quickly ran over the list of people who might’ve chosen me to will to since you can only pick one, and no one can be repeated. There was Amanda Dylan, with whom I played soccer with in the third grade. There was Tony Di Angelo, who lived next door to me. There was Molly Cummings, who I used to take horseback riding lessons with. And lastly, there was Rory. I wished with all my might he would’ve picked me, but I knew deep down he was going to will to his sister.

Which is why I was so surprised to hear him call my name.

“Rose Fallen,” he paused and waited for me to stand up, “I will to you the love of my sister and my devishly handsome good looks.”

Too stunned to applaud Rory, I smiled dumbly and sat down. Rose turned around to face me and winked. I rolled my eyes at her.

Rose had been willed the best seat in the eighth grade classrooms from Michael Gibbons, a seat by the window that overlooked the playground. It guaranteed distractions and a reason to look out the window. Michael and Rory were practically best friends, so it made sense that he and Rose were friends.

After the somewhat embarrassing ceremony, I met up with my parents who were slightly teary-eyed because their only child was growing up.

After the ceremony, they hold a reception in the school cafeteria. They have an abundance of cookies and small finger foods to munch on every year. I eyed Rose stuffing her face with tiny chocolate chip cookies at the table in the corner. I laughed to myself when she said no to sharing with me.

I sat with her as we watched Rory get congratulated by friends and family. He looked so old and put-together. I admired him.

Psh, who was I kidding? I was in love with the boy.

Rory looked at me sadly when he saw my attempt at a memorial.

“It’s ok, we’ll make it together.”

And with that, we set off to work.