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I drop to one knee, further staining my pants an artistic jumble of grassy yellows. Sure, it’s the buttcrack of dawn, but this couldn’t have been done any other way.
It is currently 6:00 AM on February 14th, 2025. A while back, I had planted these strawberries in the ground with more delicacy than ever. Since then, I’ve carefully observed their progress. Every unfit plant was either fixed or removed. Wandering weeds that posed a threat to the growth of these strawberries were dealt with upon sight. I can be a lazy gardener on occasion, but one thing was always understood: I am not playing around this time.
I had so much time to prepare. And, somehow, I am not prepared.
In all technicality, I am. The strawberries have grown to perfection. I took a refreshing shower before this. I ate a good breakfast. I would like to say that I had a good night’s sleep, but it would be a lie. I had, instead, spent the time tossing and turning, comparing the possibilities of today’s outcome.
I feel like I’m being overdramatic. I’ve had crushes before. Portia, for one. But this is the first time I’ve been in love. I love Reef. More than anything, actually. I know this isn’t an original thought, but it really is hard to put into words. He smiles and I feel it in my soul. And then I realize I’m staring and I have to look away.
I’ve planned out a future with him in my head. I hang out with him every chance I can get. Declan noticed a few months ago and has, so far, been a mediocre wingman. I’m doomed. With a sigh, I pull my gloves further up my arms and begin picking the strawberries and dropping them into the plastic bucket.
I think it started that morning when I woke up after the lightning strike. I arose a whole day before Reef and was stuck in stiff-necked misery without him while doctors ran tests. The worst thing wasn’t even the pain from the burns, or the itchiness from the bandages, or the aching in my muscles. Rather, I was plagued by anxieties, all of which were about Reef. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if he does wake up, but only fifty years from now? What if he wakes up and has totally lost his memory of both him and me?
But he woke up the next day, his brain perfectly intact except for the fact that he had 70% of my brain and vice versa. Even though I could barely stand, I begged the nurses to hoist me into a wheelchair and let me speak to Reef. My heart ached for him for just about the millionth time. He looked exhausted. But, when he saw me, he broke into the most relieved smile. And–I sucked in a breath–he was freaking gorgeous. I cringe when I think back to how I called him “sleeping beauty”, but there wasn’t really a better thing to say at the moment. Reef is beautiful. And he sleeps a lot.
I stand up, a bucket full of strawberries in hand, and shift to the other side of the garden where the non-edible plants lie. There, I find the tiger lilies, which I grew specifically because they remind me of Reef’s hair. I pick those too, making sure to handle them gently.
By the time I enter the house, it’s closer to 7:00 AM and Kristi is watching some Disney movie in the living room. Awesome. I was hoping I would get to operate with no interruptions, but I now have to deal with her nagging me.
I come in from the back porch. She looks bored at first, but her pupils grow large as she sees what I’m holding. She skips over to my side, abandoning her movie. Her first assumption is “You have a girlfriend??”
“No,” I have to tell her. “Not that I know of.”
“You’ll have a girlfriend after today?” she presses.
“No. At least, I hope not.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her eyes slump and she immediately becomes uninterested. “Y’know, I always thought you liked Reef. But, like–that’s weird and impossible because he’s a boy.”
I suck in a breath. Kristi’s more like my dad than I thought she was. I ignore her and move to the kitchen.
Once I’m in the kitchen, I reach into a cabinet and grab a bag of chocolate chips. My mom is always cooking something or another, so there’s ingredients sitting around all the time. Then, it hits me that I should keep the flowers fresh. So I grab a really tall paint cup, fill it with water, and drop the lilies into it. By the time I’m dumping the chocolate chips into a bowl, my dad enters the room. He surveys the scene and comes up with a grin. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
I can’t dodge the question this time. My dad is smarter than–actually. Let me rethink that sentence. My dad may not be smarter than Kristi, but he’s older. So I just say “There’s this girl at Neighborhood Harvest–”
That’s all he needs. He cackles gleefully. “Good for you, sport! I was starting to think you were gay. Wouldn’t want that.”
“Uh–heh, Yeah.” I reply half-heartedly. He drops the subject and approaches my sister in the living room. I don’t think I’ve ever been more happy to get away from my dad–and that’s saying something. Reeling from the conversation, I set the bowl of chips in the microwave and watch it turn on the glass dish until the chocolate melts.
From there, I cut the tops off the strawberries and begin dipping them in chocolate, one-by-one. Once a strawberry has gone through that process, it gets set on the pan. That’s whenever my mom enters, her hair twisted into a messy braid. She regards my progress with respect.
“Good strategy,” she comments. “But you should’ve used parchment paper. I’m not too keen on scraping chocolate off my pan.”
“I’ll do it later.” I offer.
“Thank you.” she answers, her tone softening. “Who is all this for?”
I sigh and come up with an awkward smile as I set the last strawberry on the pan. “There’s this boy…–”
“Reef?”
“Yeah.”
“Awesome. I think he’ll love it.”
Afterward, I leave the strawberries in the freezer to cool and I prepare the flowers by gathering them into a bouquet. I spend the next bit of time in apprehensive misery, checking the status of the strawberries every 5 minutes. The chocolate needs to be hardened and I don’t have that patience–not today, at least.
An hour passes–8:00 AM. I package the strawberries in a plastic container and exit the front door with them and the flowers in my hands. I’m not even going to pretend to be confident. I’m shaking so much my teeth are chattering. My hands are practically dripping with sweat. I’m suddenly rethinking all of my life choices as I place the gifts in the Basket Case and hop on my bike. Time to ride 4.6 miles.
The drive itself isn’t actually that bad. It gives me time to reflect and I end up more prepared than I was as a result. Well, still not ready. But you get the point.
I know the way to the Helmer house by heart. When I arrive, I lean my bike against the mailbox, grab the gifts, and walk up the front entryway.
This is it, I think, standing in front of the door with chipped paint.
I knock on the door. Liam answers. He surveys the items in my hand and frowns. “Are you here for Carolyn?”
“I–ew, no, what–I’m here for Reef. You don’t recognize me?”
He seems surprised for a second, but he drops it quickly. “I don’t think he’s here. I’ll ask Declan. He should know.” He swiftly turns and calls into the building “Dec! Where are you?”
Turns out Declan was in the kitchen, helping himself to a meaty breakfast sandwich. He lazily wanders over to us. “Is Reef home?” I ask him.
“Nah.” he answers. “He might still be at the bus stop down the street, though.” Declan observes the items in my hand. They’re pretty incriminating. His face lights up with a smug grin. “On Valentine’s? Cliché.”
“I know, I know, I know–shut it–” I’m desperately trying to hide my face behind the bouquet.
He makes a big joke out of saluting me. “Good luck, soldier.”
I skip away and hop on my bike, leaving him alone by the front door.
* * *
When I find “the bus stop down the street”, I do not see Reef. I see an old man cuddling a blanket on the bench.
“You missed the bus too, eh?” he assumes in a gravely voice. “Sucks to suck. Gotta wait for the next one.”
“No, that’s not what I–”
He notices the flowers in the Basket Case. “Young love. I miss those days.”
Wow. I am now being teased by, not only my family and Reef’s adoptive family, but strangers as well. “I just missed them. They were on that bus.”
He grumbles. “The bus travels to Breezeway. You might find them there.”
“Got it.” I answer, already prepared to drive away.
“Good luck.”
This drive is more anxiety-driven than the last. I barely know where I’m going until I reach the second bus stop near Breezeway’s mall. There, I see a figure–one with dark clothes and even darker amber hair. I don’t realize who it is until I get closer.
Reef!
Just as I’m about to call his name, another bus pulls up and he vanishes into it. Great.
When I’m sitting there, sulking, I realize one thing: Reef takes 3 different buses to get to my house. And–I review the mental map forming in my head–that bus was driving in the direction of my house. It’s very possible that he could be heading over there. The irony of the situation does hit me; When I leave to visit him and he leaves to visit me, neither of us are home to see each other. I have to make it home before we’re stuck in a loop.
No quicker have I ever dashed away on my bike. I almost lose the bouquet–thats how determined I am. Luckily, I manage to keep the flowers in the Basket Case, though I notice they’ve gotten a bit too much Sun at this point.
I get a few awkward stares from people passing by me; I’m clearly in a rush and I don’t plan on slowing down. I get back to the house in record time, but I’m almost too late. When I turn the corner and the house is within viewing distance, I see Reef, at the front door, hiding a bag behind his back. He’s talking to Kristi at the front, most likely receiving the news that I left on my bike this morning.
I dash forward on my bike and catch him as soon as Kristi closes the front door. His expression goes from disappointed to smiling in the blink of an eye. “Theo!” He calls my name and runs toward me.
“I’ve been chasing you around all morning!” I tell him, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My eyes turn toward the plastic bag in his hand. His eyes turn toward the Basket Case. I avoid eye contact and I’m sure he does the same.
“I hope you have a good day with Portia.” he assumes. My face twists into a confused expression, and–I look back at him–he’s wearing a polite smile. It doesn’t take a detective to see through it, though. He’s solemn and guarded. “I always knew there was something going on between you two.”
“But,” I insist. “Reef, Portia has a boyfriend. And it’s not me.” I clarify.
“Your sister just told me you left to ask her out, though?”
I grimace. “No, I–” I rethink my words. Telling the truth would lead to a confession I’m not ready for. But lying would make Reef sad, and nothing’s worth that. I sigh and continue. “I told my dad I was going to confess to some girl at Neighborhood Harvest and he must’ve assumed. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Reef answered, fidgeting with the bag in his hands. “Who is it, then? You’ve never mentioned another girl. And I never got any memories about her, either.”
I think over my next words with caution. Soon enough, my hands are shaking and I keep glancing between Reef and the strawberries. “Reef,” I begin. “There isn’t another girl.”
He looks confused. And then, it hits him. I wouldn’t have looked twice if a lightbulb appeared above his head. He goes through every emotion in the span of three seconds and comes up grinning. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” I tell him, a smile forming on my face as well.
He pulls the plastic bag toward him and begins rummaging through it. After a bit of struggle, he pulls out a card and gives it to me. I open it.
There’s a small bag of seeds stapled to it. Roses. The card reads:
Theo,
I did not like you when we first met.
I frown.
“Just–keep reading,” Reef urges.
I keep reading.
I never could’ve imagined that you would mean this much to me one day. In all honesty, you’re the light of my life. I don’t know what to say. I’m not really a writer. But I do really like you, Theo. Like “like-like”.
I’m tearing up at this point.
“I know, it’s not really–”
“Shut up. I’m not done reading it yet.”
I don’t want to spend Valentine’s with anyone but you.
-Reef
Okay, now I’m crying.
“Woah–Theo–you okay?”
“No.” I answer in a wavery voice. “I’m more than okay. This is–this is–it’s beautiful. And I ‘like-like’ you too.”
“Good. I’m glad.” I can tell he’s embarrassed, because I am too. “Wow, that took us a while. I mean–how long have you liked me?”
“Since the day we woke up from the lightning strike.”
Reef almost jumps. “Since the day we–?!” He takes a moment to ponder this. “Theo, that was almost 2 years ago!”
“I’m aware.” I admit. I grab the strawberries and flowers and hop off my bike. “These are for you, by the way. I–uh. I grew them.”
He grabs the container and opens it, finding the strawberries. “Wow.” he remarks.
“I first planted them last Valentine’s day.”
“Holy crap. You thought this through.”
“I overthought it. A lot.”
“I can tell.” he answers. Before I can say anything else, I’m pulled into a hug. His arms wrap around my waist while I awkwardly stand there, too starstruck to hug back and too happy to pull away. He chuckles and looks up at me. “Thank you.”
My brain is like an overheated computer. I grab the first file I can. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Basket Case.”