A Single Daffodil

Listen.

The alarm clock sitting next to my bed read 5:32 am.

I stared at it, hoping that reading the time would trigger some sort of fatigue. It didn’t. I felt restless, wide awake, and suddenly claustrophobic in these hotel bed sheets.

I violently twisted under the sheets, laying flat on my back. Sleep was useless to me at this point. It was practically non-existent.

Another five restless minutes went by before I decided staying in this empty hotel room (Sophia, who should be sleeping in the bed next to me, was spending her fifth night in a row at Niall’s.) was going to do nothing for me. My mind was too loud and much too awake for me to just lay around. I needed some type of release for the unhinged scrutiny that was brewing inside my brain.

I heaved the sheets and blankets away from my body and jumped out of bed, pausing only for a moment to let the light-headedness subside. I tied up my hair into a messy bun and stumbled over to the closet. I was too preoccupied with the idea of getting out of here, that I didn’t even bother to turn on the light. I felt around in the closet blindly until my fingertips touched the familiar fabric of my workout clothes. In one swift motion, I ripped my pajamas off and replaced them with my Nike running tights, sports bra and a slouchy black top. I pulled out my running jacket from Nike too, quickly zipping it up over my torso. Even in the summer time, mornings in London can be fairly cool.

My heart started racing the second I stepped out of my hotel room and into the noiseless hallway. The anticipation of running was suddenly so inviting. It was a new feeling, a feeling that could keep all my other frazzled thoughts at bay.

“Good morning, Graham!” I greeted the doorman with a warm smile as he opened the main doors for me. Graham was almost always at the entrance of the Langham hotel. In fact, I don’t recall a time he wasn’t standing there, waiting patiently for guests to arrive and depart. He was an elderly looking chap, but always looked smart and collected in his grey suit, white gloves and top hat. I couldn’t help but appreciate how he always had a tiny flower pinned to the lapel of his jacket. When I asked him about it one day, he told me he liked picking a fresh flower from his garden each morning before work.

“Good morning, Miss. Vita. ” He greeted cheerfully, letting the door slowly close behind me. I begged him to call me by my first name and not Spoelstra because it made me sound too grown up. It took him a couple of days to get the hang of it. “You’re up early this morning. Would you like me to call you a cab?”

“No thank you, Graham.” I jumped down a couple of the marble steps before turning around to face him. “I’m going for a morning run!”

“Very well, Miss.Vita.” He nodded politely, placing his hands behind his back. “In that case, I recommend you make a right when you leave the grounds. There are more parks and squares in that direction.”

I grabbed my left foot with my right hand, pulling it towards my back to stretch my muscles. When I let it drop back down, I grinned at Graham. “Thanks for the heads-up. I knew there was a reason we became friends!”

Graham offered a bashful smile as I saluted him before jogging away from the entrance. I wondered how rare it was for Graham to have pleasant conversations with guests who stay at the hotel. After witnessing the disregard for hotel doormen firsthand back in Miami, I liked going out of my way to be polite to people like Graham. They always ended up being the most lovely people around.

The second I turned right, I picked up speed immediately. The sidewalk beneath me blurred as I felt a surge of adrenaline pulsate throughout my body. I surrendered myself to the miraculous beat of my nike clad feet hitting the ground. Finally, I found solace in releasing the restlessness and energy through exercise. I felt euphoric, my soul slowly reaching it’s summit, I was running and I felt free.

I ran for what seemed like forever, which was fine by me. When I run, I have to stay focused on my breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling. The sky was a hazy blue, twilight now melting away and dissolving into a majestic sunrise.

Eventually, I stumbled upon a familiar road that I was sure I’ve visited before. I took another right and continued to sprint, hoping the road would lead me to a park. I could feel my breathing start to tighten and my lungs burn as I ran even faster. My lungs burned so badly, my eyes started to water but I kept going. At the end of the lane, I could see a wide opening so I pushed even a little harder to get there faster.

Before I knew it, I was running right into the middle of a deserted Trafalger Square. When a bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, I slowed down and stopped right in front of the nearest water fountain. I bent over, clutching onto my knees as I gasped for air. I felt dizzy, realizing I may have pushed myself a little too far with the running. My whole body ached and my lungs were on fire.

I stood up straight, placing my hands behind my head as I looked around. Dawn had arrived, the sun’s early morning colors peaking out from behind the grand National Museum. The pink and orange-colored rays were climbing over the vast dome that sat on top of the building. I continued to walk further into the empty square, taking in my surroundings. The clouds above were no longer just their typical grey color, but were lit with a fantastic, warm glow.

“Wow.” I whispered, climbing up the large steps that surrounded Nelson’s column so I could get a better look. London was so beautiful in the early morning. Even as the long morning shadows were distinct against the cobblestone, the fountain’s water glittered invitingly.

The cool air whipped the loose strands of hair that fell out of my bun as I unhurriedly wandered around Nelson’s column, dragging the blades of my fingers against the cool marble of the statue. It felt good to finally see this place, like really see this place and not just admire it from a rooftop party close by. I paused briefly, remembering how embarrassing that night was.

I closed my eyes and let my hand drop from Nelson’s column.

Last night was even worse.

Was I a fool for acting the way I did at the game? I’ll admit, I was a little intense, but was I really that bad?

Harry seemed to think so.

I sighed, walking around the column until I could see the National Museum again. I dropped down onto one of the steps, letting my feet dangle off the edge.

When I decided to come to London with my dad and his team, I had no intentions of seeing Harry while I was here. Yes, he did cross my mind when I made the decision, but I figured the likeliness of bumping into him while I was here was almost as likely as giving Queen Elizabeth a high five. And besides, I didn’t want to see him. I knew if I saw him, even for a second, I would fall for it all over again. It, being his smile, his enticing twinkling eyes, his stupid dumb nose. All of the things that made him beautiful and kind were exactly what I spent the past year trying to forget.

And yet, every time I set my eyes on him, my feelings came rushing back. It’s something I can’t prevent from happening. He was like a terrifying tornado, and I was the crickety old house in his path, ready to be demolished. Seeing him and talking to him and interacting with him has ruined me.

The worst part of all was, he didn’t feel the same way. As much as it pains me to admit it, the stupid and naive girly part of my brain had somehow imagined up this whole thing where the second Harry and I would see each other again, he’d realize how much he missed me too. And that he would realize how much it didn’t make sense that we weren’t together and that he, I don’t know, still loved me after all this time. When I saw him at Liam’s party, I was starting to believe maybe that stupid girly part of my brain could have been a little accurate. He hated that I talked to that Teddie kid. He was so jealous. I could see it in his eyes. They weren’t warm or twinkly when he’d say Teddy’s name out loud. They got darker and crestfallen. And then last night...

Oh my God, last night.

I dropped my head into my hands, letting out a groan. He was so unimpressed with the way I acted. He called me out on my shit, for God’s sake. He basically told me to not even bother. Had I really been reading him wrong this whole time?

I didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

I slowly looked back up at the National Museum, instantly thinking of Grandpa Gene. He hated museums, but I knew he wouldn’t have minded visiting this one. All of his favorite paintings were in there. Vincent Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, Rembrandt’s self portrait, MichaelAngelo’s crafty work.

My eyebrows furrowed, my eyes burning. What I would give to talk to Grandpa Gene right now. He would give me the best advice.

I closed my eyes, imagining us in his sunroom right now. A lovely symphony is playing from his speakers, and the smell is a mixture of columbian coffee and acrylic paint. I’m stretched out on the couch underneath the large windows, taking in the summer sun while he’d sit at his easel, painting some sort of beautiful thing. We would talk about love and poems and the weather. Flowers, books, and music. Life.

When I opened my eyes, tears spilled out. I sniffed, wiping hastily at my now dampened cheeks. Not having Grandpa Gene around was torture. I was tormenting myself by trying to grasp the inevitable. But how could I not dream about being in that sunroom with him again? He was my best friend, my family.

I missed him so much.



I gave myself enough time to calm down before getting up and heading back to the hotel. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted now, and the idea of sleep finally didn’t sound so bad.

It was around 7:45 in the morning when I stumbled upon a quaint coffee shop on the walk home. It was the name of the place that made me backtrack and stop in. Lavender’s Underwater Tea Party it read. The interior was cosy and very retro, and it even had little paper-made stars hanging by threads from the ceiling.

Speaking of stars, I had to thank my lucky stars for remembering to shove a fiver into the pocket of my jacket before leaving. It was just enough to order a breakfast sandwich and two coffees: one for me, and one for Graham.

While I waited for the woman in front of me to order, I looked into the glass case, realizing there were a lot of breakfast sandwich options. I felt overwhelmed. Dunkin Donuts had nothing on these guys.

“Get the Double Cheesy English Muffin.” A deep, masculine voice said behind me. “That’s the crowd pleaser.”

“Yeah, I was actually looking-oh!” When I turned to look at the stranger behind me, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he wasn’t, in fact, a stranger. It was Teddy. In a three piece suit. Hello. “Oh wow, hey! Teddy, right?”

“The one and only. And you’re my funny Florida friend.” He beamed, grabbing a pre-made sandwich from the fridge next to him. “I thought that was you walking in here. How’ve ye been?”

“Could be better, could be worse.” I answered honestly. “What are you doing up so early? And why do you look so dapper? It’s much too early to look that put together!”

He chuckled, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if I had a choice, I’d still be wearing my bacon print jim jams right now. Regrettably, I’m on my way to work.”

“Bacon print? Jim Jams?” I repeated his words with surprise. “All of these things you are saying are very appealing to me.”

He laughed again. “Glad to hear it.”

There was a break in the conversation because I was next in line. I ordered the two black coffees and the Double Cheesy English Muffin. I was about to pull out the five quid in my pocket, but Teddy stopped me.

“Make that three black coffees and add this weird looking sandwich thing to the bunch!” Teddy leaned over me, handing his credit card to the cashier.

“Wait--hey! No don-”

Teddy hushed me. “Not now, Florida. I’m trying to fit into the ‘perfect English gentleman’ bracket you Americans conjured up. I am paying for your stuff, no if’s, and’s, or but’s!”

“I appreciate your attempt at fitting the ‘perfect English gentleman’ description, but I don’t think anyone could surpass the Jude Law bracket.” I retorted. “Not even you and your bacon-printed jim jams.”

“I resent that last statement.” Teddy narrowed his eyes playfully at me before thanking the cashier lady.

When I was handed the two coffees and breakfast sandwich, I turned to Teddy and smiled gratefully. “Thank you, though. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Teddy replied as he followed me out the door. When we walked outside, we stopped on the sidewalk. “I guess I just paid for Harry too.”

I stepped backwards, immediately confused. “Wait, what? Harry?”

He looked down at the second coffee I was holding, and I immediately caught onto what he was implying. Oh. He thought me and Harry were still a thing.

I twisted my face, giving him an ugly expression. I knew it was ugly because it felt ugly. “Oh God, no! No, no. Nope. Sorry, that’s--that’s not a thing. He--no. Nada, my friend.” I laughed, realizing I sounded pretty dumb. “This coffee is for Graham.”

“Right. Graham.” Teddy repeated the name slowly. “Am I suppose to know...?”

“No.” I laughed again. “Graham is...okay, this is going to sound really strange, but Graham is the doorman at the hotel I’m staying at. He’s really nice and I’m convinced he works there 24/7 so I thought maybe it’d be nice to pick him up a coffee on the way back because he can’t really leave and I bet he can only gets the crap coffee from the employee room, so I--”

“You’re gorgeous.” Teddy cut my rambling, watching my face in awe.

I made another ugly face (note to self: try and fix reaction face) and laughed awkwardly. To make matters worse, I dragged out the ‘a’ in my response because apparently, I wanted to sound even more dunce and American. “Whaaaaaaat!?”

“Sorry, I was listening to you chatter on about the doorman, but I couldn’t help telling you that.” He said, now looking a little sheepish. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” My cheeks turned red and now I felt very aware of what I looked like. I had no make up on and my hair was making unattractive curls from sweating earlier. This guy was blind if he thought I looked gorgeous right now.

It got quiet between us, the sudden shift in conversation was very obvious. I wasn’t sure if I was suppose to call him gorgeous too. It probably didn’t even need saying. He had to know he was gorgeous, right? Like, he was Zac Efron meets Leonardo DiCaprio gorgeous.

“Right! Well, I should go.” Teddy said, glancing down at his watch. “The boss can get a bit stroppy if I’m a minute late.”

“Oh. Okay.” I tried to hide my disappointment. I liked talking to this guy. “Well, thanks again. For the coffee. Graham’s grateful too, probably.”

He smiled at that. “Probably.” He concluded. He started walking backwards, in the direction of Trafalger square. “I’m this way. So...”

“And I’m this way.” I jerked my head in the opposite direction. God, I was so awkward. “Alright, see you later!”

I turned around and started walking back to the hotel, feeling weird. I almost felt...giddy? Weak, even. I couldn’t believe how forward Teddy was. But he was so sweet. I don’t understand why Harry disliked him so much. He was funny and wow, he was damn easy on the eyes. The man knew how to dress.

“Hey, wait! Teddy!” Before I knew it, I had already turned around and jogged a few steps back to where Teddy was. He was quick to whip around when I called his name, like he almost expected it.

“You alright, Florida?” He asked with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at the nickname before responding. “Do you like basketball?”