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When Marinette visited her locker after gym class to put away her sneakers, she found a bouquet tied with a gold ribbon. Alya saw it too.
“Ooh! Is there a note?”
Marinette all but emptied her locker, but there was nothing but the sweet-smelling bouquet of purple, white, and yellow flowers. “Nothing,” she said.
Alya was inspecting Marinette’s locker door. She let out a low, impressed whistle. “Whoever it is, they’re good at picking locks. It’s barely even scratched.”
“I’ll worry about it later,” said Marinette, tucking the flowers into her bookbag and locking her locker. “We need to get back to class. You know what my parents will do if I get too many tardies this semester.”
Alya followed her, but she was smirking. “Only you would immediately categorize a mystery bouquet as something to worry about.”
All through science class, Marinette kept catching Alya sneaking looks at the bouquet and making furtive notes on her phone. It was a miracle that Ms. Mendeleiev didn’t notice. She was utterly unsurprised when Alya cornered her during free period.
“Guess what?” she asked, smiling broadly.
Marinette took a deep breath. She had planned to spend the period sketching. The sooner Alya explained whatever wild theory she’d invented about the bouquet, the sooner Marinette would be free to work. “What?”
Alya was still grinning. “I downloaded this plant identification app to see what kind of flowers these are. Then I went on a little Wikipedia rabbit hole and ended up on a page about plant symbolism. And guess what?”
“What?” Marinette asked again. She felt her drawing time dissipate like smoke.
Alya leaned in close to whisper. “I think the bouquet’s supposed to be a message.” She saw the look on Marinette’s face. “No, really! Check it.”
Alya pushed her phone into Marinette’s hands. “This one’s a gardenia. ‘Secret love,’ see? And daffodils can mean uncertainty or ‘unrequited love.’ Someone has a secret crush, and they aren’t sure if you like them back.” She was practically vibrating. Alya loved a mystery. “And the toadflax means that they hope you’ll notice them.”
“That’s cool,” said Marinette. “But I’ve sworn off relationships. You know that.”
Alya made a show of nonchalance. “Of course, of course. But let me just drop in one more interesting little tidbit. The iris and the violets mean it’s probably a girl.”
Marinette’s eyes widened, and she looked at Alya’s phone properly for the first time. “A girl?” she hissed, lowering her voice and pulling Alya closer. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.” Alya took her phone back and smirked at it. “Somewhere in this school, there’s a lock-picking, flower loving girl with a crush on you, Marinette.”
Marinette’s face was so hot that she thought she might burst into flame. “Oh,” she said faintly. “Cool.”
The second bouquet, tied with an identical gold ribbon, showed up a few days later. This time, Marinette identified the flowers herself. Heather, red daisies, bellflowers, and nemophilia. In other words, the secret admirer’s feelings ran deep and they—she—thought Marinette was beautiful.
“Thank you,” Marinette said softly, though she was sure her secret admirer was too clever to stick around. Pulling a pen and paper out of her bookbag, she wrote a short note.
To whom it may concern:
Thank you for the flowers—and the compliment. I would love to know your name.
Marinette
She taped the note to the inside of her locker door, right where someone might find it if they picked the lock to leave a fresh bouquet.
Marinette smiled all afternoon. She sang while she did her chores and laughed at every joke Chat Noir made on patrol. Someone was in love with her. Her heart felt so full that she hardly knew what to do with herself.
She found her answer in her locker the next morning. The note was gone, and a single ox-eye daisy rested on top of Marinette’s textbooks.
“That means patience,” said Alya, who was equally enthralled with this saga.
Marinette twisted the daisy’s stem around her finger. “She loves me, she loves me not…” she said aloud. “Does this mean that she’s waiting to see what I do next? Or she wants me to wait?”
Alya wasn’t sure either.
“Follow your instincts,” said Tikki, sticking her head out of Marinette’s purse. “That’s always the right thing to do when your heart’s on the line.”
Alya raised an eyebrow. “You know what Marinette’s romantic instincts are like, right?”
But Marinette had made up her mind. Shortening the daisy’s stem slightly, she tucked it behind her ear and wore it for the rest of the day. With any luck, her secret admirer would see it and take it as a sign. Marinette could be patient. When he admirer was ready to reveal herself, she would be there.
It took almost a week for more flowers to appear in Marinette’s locker. There were three of them, laid out in a row rather than bound together. Marinette opened up her plant identification app. Okay, so she had a zinnia, a red orchid, and a sprig of edelweiss. What did that mean?
It clicked before the plant symbolism page had time to load. “Of course,” Marinette said aloud.
Zinnia. Orchid. Edelweiss. Z-O-E.
Someone cleared her throat. Zoé stepped out from behind the row of lockers. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” Now that the moment of truth was here, Marinette realized she wasn’t scared at all. Of course it was Zoé. Who else could have done something so sweet and so perfect?
Zoé pulled a single red rose out of her bookbag. She bit her lip. “This is for you, if you aren’t sick of flowers by now. And if you want—” She floundered.
Marinette reached for the rose. For a moment, she and Zoé held it together, hands touching. Then Zoé broke away.
“It’s beautiful,” said Marinette. You’re beautiful. How long had she liked Zoé? This feeling was too powerful to be new.
“My dad’s a florist,” Zoé explained, and the last piece of the puzzle slotted into place. “I fell for you at your parents’ workplace, so I thought maybe…” Again, she trailed off.
Marinette stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The air was filled with the mingled smells of flowers, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy.
“Thank you,” Marinette whispered.
She was very aware of how close her lips were to Zoé’s. She looked from Zoé’s shining blue eyes to her lips, hoping Zoé would take the hint. Zoé did.
Marinette melted into the kiss, letting Zoé take hold of her chin and move her where she wanted her. This was everything. This was—
“Good.”
Marinette and Zoé jumped. Chloé stood in the locker room doorway, smirking.
“Now you can stop ordering all those common, inferior flowers,” said Chloé.
Zoé reached for Marinette’s hand. She handled it delicately, like she wasn’t completely sure Marinette was real. “Actually, I think it means I’ll need to order more flowers than ever.”