Free Too Many Blooms by Catherine R. Daly Page B

I’d have to do something about that when I got home.
    To say I was distracted at school the next couple of days was the understatement of the year. I accidentally took Aster’s homework folder to school with me. (She was not very happy about that, as she got in trouble.) I forgot my lunch money. My teacher called on me in Spanish class and I answered, “rosa,” with the correct accent and everything, which means pink. Which would have been fine if I were answering her previous question, which had been
What color is your shirt?
But as the class (including, I noticed, my dear friend Amy) roared with laughter, Señora Jankowski explained that I had actually answered her next question, which was
What color are your eyes?
You can understand my embarrassment. How often does your
teacher
laugh at you?
    Gym class was the worst. I was forced to watch Ashley and Hamilton dancing together, and having a great time. Hamilton’s square dancing had not improved one bit. He circled left when he was supposed to go right. His allemandes were all over the place. But that didn’t seem to bother Ashley. She giggled all class long. And that just made me more and more annoyed. Especially now that I knew the truth about what she’d done.
    Friday afternoon, Ashley came up to me by my locker and put her hands on her hips. “It’s offish,” she said.
    “Huh?” I asked even though I had an idea of what she was talking about. I could feel myself start to get worked up.
    She rolled her eyes.
“Official.
Olivia’s going with Fleur for her flowers. You know, that really gorgeous new florist in the mall?” She shook her head sadly. “I am so sorry you lost the wedding of the year,” she added. “But in the long run, I think it’s better for all involved. Imagine the things that probably would have gone wrong. It’s probably best to leave the flowers to the professionals.”
    I spun around, my face hot with anger. This was it. I opened my mouth, ready to yell at Ashley for turning Olivia against us. For ruining everything.
    But then I stopped myself.
Rise above it, Del,
I said to myself.
Don’t give her the satisfaction.
I took a big breath, and tried to pretend I was Rose, acting in a play. Playing the part of someone who didn’t care.
    “Easy come, easy go,” I said with a shrug.
    Ashley looked disappointed. She tossed her hair back. “Well, um, all that’s left now is the headpiece,” she said. “Olivia and I are going shopping this weekend.”
    “That’s great,” I said, forcing a yawn.
    Ashley frowned, clearly waiting for me to get upset. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. As she turned on her heel and marched off down the hall, I wished I
really
didn’t care that we’d lost Olivia to Fleur. But I did care. A lot.
    Not even stopping at the store on the way home helped my mood. I walked inside to find Poppy behind the counter.
    “Hi, Del!” she cried.
    “Hey, Poppy,” I replied, walking up to the counter. “I thought she was with her babysitter this afternoon,” I said to Mom.
    “Del!” said Mom, surprised. She sounded almost guilty. “I wasn’t expecting you!” She shrugged. “Poppy misses me. I used to be home all the time with her, remember? I figured we could spend some time together here at the shop. She really loves it.”
    “I’m practicing,” said Poppy, all seriousness. She reached into the basket that hung over her arm, pulled out a handful of rose petals, and tossed them into the air. I bit my lip, deciding it was best not to tell Poppy that her chances of being a flower girl were pretty slim now.
    Mom grinned. “Isn’t she so cute?” she asked me. “I missed her, too,” she confessed.
    I didn’t want to hurt Poppy’s feelings, so I pulled Mom to the back of the store, to talk to her in private. “Are you serious?” I asked her. “I mean, I love Poppy, but it’s unprofessional to have her behind the counter! It’s no wonder …” I stopped.
    “It’s no wonder what?” Mom