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The Crushed Daffodil

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Despite what Edgar had previously claimed, Florence was eventually allowed to return to school, even if her broken arm was still healing. The girl was true in her assumptions: the night before she was meant to return to school after the winter holidays, she sat down with her grandfather and had a lengthy discussion about how reasonable it would be if she returned to school on time. For one thing, her schooling would be disrupted, which was enough of a reason for Edgar because his granddaughter's education was one of the most important things in the world to him. She shared his views.

Florence sat with her best friend, Prissy, during the lunch hour. While Florence had another year before she had to worry about her Queen entrance examinations, the other girl was quite concerned about her grades. In fact, she was concentrating on studying for the approaching exam rather than eating anything at all.

"I am honestly so relieved," Prissy said as she put her pen down momentarily and moved her attention over to her friend.

Florence had an inquisitive look on her face. "Oh? And why's that?"

Prissy lowered her voice a bit. "It's Stephen. I talked with him a few days ago, and he's encouraging my dream to attend college."

Oh, that guy again.

Florence grinned. "That's good."

Mr Phillips wasn't the worst person on the planet, after all. At the very least, he wasn't as horrible as she'd always imagined him to be. He was a strong supporter of his fiancee's desire to complete her education. Unfortunately, many men in today's world would flatly refuse such a request. Their egos would get the best of them, and they'd think to themselves, "She has to be mine!" or "She merely needs to focus on me!"

"I'm glad he's being so open-minded about the subject," Florence added and Prissy nodded.

"I know, right? Mother and Father like him, too. In fact, Mother is beyond thrilled with his views, especially since she's a part of the Progressive Mothers club."

Florence reached for her friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Smiling, she picked up one of the cookies that she bought for lunch and offered it to Prissy. "I know you're very worried about the exams, but you can't possibly expect to study well while on an empty stomach."

With a grateful smile, the blonde girl accepted it. "You're always keeping an eye on me."

"Always."

***

After eating her lunch and with a good half an hour still remaining of the lunch period, Florence had decided to catch some much-needing fresh air. Although there was still a lot of snow on the ground, the temperature was pleasant, which she appreciated.

Walking alone on the fields, she watched around her as the boys and other students fooled around in the snow, the sun hitting their faces as they made the most of their free period.

"Florence."

When she heard her name called, she turned to face Billy Andrews, who was standing directly in front of her. His look suggested that something was awry for some reason. It was almost as if shame was devouring him from within. But she was perplexed; what crime would Billy have to be found guilty of?

Billy never appeared to be guilty, especially because he didn't seem to notice or care when he was wrong. Something about his face reminded Florence of when he wore the same expression on the day of Mr Blythe's funeral.

Florence furrowed her brows, not making much of his looks right now. "Billy? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry about your arm," he mumbled guiltily. There was that look again. She still didn't understand the reason behind him showing it.

The girl laughed it off with a joke. "My arm ⸺ it's not too big of a deal. Everyone is constantly looking out for me, so I suppose that's a plus."

Florence, thankfully, had no idea it was Billy who had led her to tumble off the ladder and break her arm in the first place. She assumed he was behaving regretfully solely to be sympathetic, not because he was in any way responsible for her injury.

"Perhaps, we can walk together then?" Billy suggested and Florence was utterly confused at that moment. Since when was Billy so nice to her? To anyone for that matter?

It might just be because of my circumstances.

"Um . . . Sure?" Her response sounded more like a question, but she knew he understood when he slipped into step with her and the two began walking around the field together in silence.

Billy glanced at Florence now and then curiously, but she didn't seem to notice. One time she did, causing him to quickly avert her eyes to the view ahead.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, contemplating something. Decidedly, she asked, "How were your Christmas holidays?"

He responded without turning to face her. "Oh, they were great. Invited some of our family over and had dinner together." She hummed and he added, "And yours?"

A smile crossed her mouth as she recalled the events of Christmas Eve. "Absolutely wonderful! We had a good time having Gilbert and his friend Sebastian over."

Billy raised a brow at this but didn't say anything.

Florence couldn't help but notice the Andrews boy's odd behaviour. Was he ill? Did he have a fever? Or, despite how improbable it seemed, had he had a change of heart? A smile had unknowingly appeared on her face at the last thought.

Billy abruptly came to a halt and turned to face Florence with purpose. He knew it would hurt her in the end, but he also knew he needed to get this off his chest. He couldn't imagine ever being able to live with the shame he'd feel if he didn't tell her the truth.

"Your fall . . . you know what's strange about it?"

Florence didn't know where he was getting at.

"It wasn't meant for you. It was meant for Cole. If I knew that it was you up there on the ladder, I would never have bumped⸺"

He stopped, reading the look on her face. The damage had been done, and what hurt him the most was the way that Florence's once joyous expression just fell right before his very eyes.

"That was you?" she whispered, worried that if she spoke too loud, her voice would deceive her.

"Yes . . . But it wasn't meant for you."

"Whoever it was meant for," she cut off, now looking livid. "You came to the theatre that day with the intention to hurt somebody. To hurt Cole. I cannot believe you, Billy. You've really managed to do it this time."

Before Billy could respond, Florence turned in her heel and ran for the other side so he couldn't catch up to her. With her eyes clouded from tears and her thoughts racing from the sudden confession, she didn't even see her surroundings until she collided with a lean figure, gratefully not falling since Gilbert had a solid grip on her shoulders.

"Whoa, careful there. Is there a Winter track and field day that I didn't know about?" He chuckled lightheartedly at first but stopped at once when he noticed the tears falling down her cheeks. "Hey, hey, is everything alright?"

A great sob escaped her before Gilbert let go of his wits and pulled her in for a surprisingly tight embrace.

Florence had been hugged before, but never like. There was something so warm, something that felt right, smelt right. She let her body sag, her muscles become loose. Gilbert gave her the respect of an equal but cradled her like a cherished friend. In that embrace, she felt her worries loosen their keen sting and her optimism raise its head from the dirt. Perhaps the hope had always been there, but it was trapped in the absence of love.

She felt him brush her hair back with his fingers and whisper calmly in her ear, "Come on, let's take a seat somewhere."