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Sana tucks the blue flower neatly in between the pages of her journal.
It stays there, pressed against the sheets where she pours all her scattered thoughts, ranging from old memories to her deepest wishes.
She writes about that day, when she had set out with Noora to forget Yousef. Her pen shakes as she laughs, thinking about how the day ended so differently from what she had planned.
She writes about how they played with the wrong ball, she writes about how she beat him in the game but he was a gracious loser, she writes about how glad she was that he opened up to her, she writes about easy it felt for her to share such an important part of herself with him.
She begins to write about how he made her feel at the very end, standing outside her home…when her ink runs out.
Perhaps it’s a sign.
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He takes her to the Arctic-Alpine Botanic Garden. They walk side by side, in comfortable silence.
She only breaks it to chastise him for picking the flowers. But he just smiles as his long fingers take apart the stems, wounding them together and before she knows it, he’s holding a poppy crown.
He steps forward and gently places it around her forehead. The red flowers look beautiful against her black hijab.
He tells her so and she wants to reply, but no words come out.
It is only a dream after all.
Sana opens her eyes and sighs in disappointment.
She reaches for her journal, left on the bedside table, and opens it. It smells like bluebells.
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Reality isn’t as sweet. The atmosphere at home is tense, both Elias and her mother are on edge.
She’s…well she always has a thousand thoughts running through her mind (one in particular dominating it right now) and today it seems she can’t find that calm and serenity even in her prayers.
Because one question wouldn’t leave her alone.
What was it that he wanted to say? Did she even want to find out, knowing where it would lead? Knowing she couldn’t trust her own heart?
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He texts her.
Yousef: I had a wonderful time yesterday. <3
Back at it again with the heart emojis. She fondly rolls her eyes.
Sana: Me too.
Her fingers hesitate against the phone’s keypad.
Sana: Do you remember what you wanted to tell me before?
She presses send and then puts it down on her bed, equally nervous and excited at the same time.
A long pause. Her heart beats faster every second as the silence stretches on.
The soft ping of the text alert is almost too loud.
It’s a picture of bluebells, which looks like it has been edited in MS Paint, with the words “Bluebells are associated with humility and gratitude but most popularly it’s associated with everlasting love and constancy.”
She’s still processing the meaning of the picture and grinning at how extra Yousef “I love making customized edits for you” Acar is when he sends another text.
“In other words, I like you Sana. I’ve liked you for a long time now.”
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Later on that night, when she sits down to with her journal, the wilted bluebell by her side, the ink flows smooth as ever as she writes how she feels about Yousef Acar.