Chapter Text
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This is definitely not what you thought that you’d be doing this afternoon. Only two weeks ago you were seated happily at your computer in your home back in Washington and now you’re walking to a flower shop in a little suburb of Houston. If you were trying to be a cool douche or something you’d just say Houston, but it would be stretching the truth a little too thin. There’s a little family owned cafe and a little family owned grocery store and a little family owned flower shop and a few other shops, but that’s about it. It hardly counts as Houston at all and you’re starting to feel pretty cheated. At least moving to Houston would have been exciting, but this is just dumb.
“You’ll make new friends,” your dad had promised while you were packing as if that’s what you cared about. You were known school-wide for being the biggest nerd around, so moving away from friends wasn’t a problem at all. His promise is a lie anyway because so far you’ve only seen more and more old people and young families with little kids. You’re sure that anyone you’ll talk to has had family living here for generations. “There will always be a Baggins in Bag End” and all of that stuff. Not you, though, because your dad’s job had only transferred him to Houston about a month ago. Right now you find yourself wishing that he actually was a street performer like he always said he was because street performers don’t get transferred to places where late March feels like the summer death months.
So that’s where you are. Walking through a dumb Houston suburb in the blazing heat on your way to pick up some flowers so that the new house will look happier. Why? Because “it’ll make your Nanna happy, John.” What you wouldn’t give to feel the cool spring breeze on your face again. You finally arrive at the flower shop and to nobody’s surprise it’s a real small town-looking flower shop. On one side of it is a butcher and on the other side is a baker. On top of it is an apartment-type thing that you assume the owners of the shop live in. A true small town, indeed.
The shop itself is actually pretty adorable. The outside of it is painted green and the white sign on the front has “Strider’s Flower Shop” scrawled across it with little floral decorations the corners. There’s huge windows and potted plants are hung and placed carefully out front to give the shop a splash of color. Inside you can see rows and tables of flowers with an open door out back. Despite the cuteness of the little shop, you still wish that you were back in Maple Valley as you step inside.
“John Egbert, right?” the tall blond man at the counter asks the moment that the bell above the door rings.
“Yeah, how did you know?” you ask, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
“I’ve never seen you before, so it was a fair bet. Your order’s out back with Dave, he’ll help you carry it to the truck.” His sunglasses have to be the dumbest things you’ve ever seen and you hope to everything that is good and holy that they aren’t some weird fashion trend here.
“There’s, uh, no truck,” you admit sheepishly. Nobody thought that one through.
“Then he’ll help you load it up on a trolley or something. Normally I’d have him carry it back to your house, but he’s got another delivery to run. Sorry, man, we’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“No need, Bro, Mr. Allison stopped by on the way back from the city and said he’d just take them home.”
Whatever you were expecting when you looked over, it isn’t what you see. Strolling through the back door is a fairly tall, tan, blonde guy your age. Freckles speckle his face and, judging by the spots wandering out from under his white t-shirt, probably his shoulders too. He’s got purple velocity shorts on, leaving his legs bare right down to his red and purple sneakers. You’re starting to think that those sunglasses are some sort of weird trend because he’s got them too.
“Oh good. Show the town’s newest kid how we Striders run our shop, okay?” the elder brother says and waves his sibling away.
“Got it. Come on out back and we’ll load up. It’s John right?”
He barely stays in front of you long enough to catch your shy nod. Before you can open your mouth, he’s already out the door. You follow Dave behind the store and your eyes grow wide. Purples and pinks and whites and blues and reds and oranges and every other color of the rainbow are scattered all over the place lining pathways that you walk carefully as to not step on anything. When you finish marveling at the colors, Dave’s already setting flats of flowers on a second small cart.
“You’re going to have to push one of these, sorry,” he says and moves from the cart to a small basket backpack thing with a plant in it. “Normally we deal with ourselves, but it’s pretty rare to get an order this big without a big truck to accompany it.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. My dad sent me down here to pick up the order, but I didn’t really think that he’d order so much that I’d need a car or anything,” you mutter sheepishly.
“‘Sokay,” he replies and pulls the basket backpack on. “I saw you guys drive in and I don’t think yours would handle the dirt well anyway. You don’t sound like you’re from anywhere around here, how far up are you from?”
“Maple Valley, Washington,” you reply and grab a cart, following him as his turns to push the first cart back through the shop.
“That’s pretty far,” he comments with amusement. “Don’t worry, soon enough this good old Texas twang will work its way into your Pacific Northwest.”
“Pacific Northwest?”
“Accent.”
“Oh.”
By the time that you hit the road you’re already you’re struggling to keep up with the blonde. Dave’s in great shape and probably does this constantly, but it’s killing you. You’re going to have to get used to it, you guess. The walk is pretty quiet and you speak up to give him a few directions, but it seems almost like he knows how to get to your house already. He takes a few unprompted turns that turn out to be right and even finds a shortcut. When he doesn’t even ask before turning down the right road, you just have to ask.
“How do you know where I live?”
“My best friend lived there,” he replies simply. “She lived with her grandpa, but he decided to use his last twenty or so years traveling. Jade moved in with her cousin who lives few blocks back, but I used to be over here all the time.”
“Oh, okay,” you say, unsure of how to reply to that. What were you really expecting, him to have taken special care to find out?
The rest of the walk is silent and once you’re to your house he starts unloading things. When you try to help he just waves you away. He empties both carts, but pushes one to the side and instead goes for the potted plant in his backpack basket while muttering something about picking up the second cart later. Once he’s set the plant down and put the pack back on, he finally stands up and looks you dead in the eye. You can’t see it because of those dumb as heck sunglasses, but you can feel it.
“I also happen to keep an eye on the new people in town. You seem like a pretty cool kid, Egbert. If you need anything or have any questions, just ask and I’ll try to help out. I’ll also put a good word in with Jade for you.”
“Thanks, Dave,” you reply with a nervous grin. “Just answer me one thing before you leave.”
“Yeah?”
You’ve got to know.
“What’s with the sunglasses?”
“Ask my bro because I have no clue,” he says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “I’ll bet you the entire flower selling empire that he’d say irony.”
With that, Dave walks off pushing one of the empty carts. He’s definitely stranger than most people you’ve known, but he seems nice enough. You decide that, while this might not be your Maple Valley, you might not hate this place as much as you thought.
Wait.
How the heck did he know your last name?