She walked into the store with a bright smile, as always, and an excited Ruben by her side.

"Hey Xerxes," he grinned at the boy behind the counter as if he knew something he didn't. Cecelia slapped his arm and advanced to the counter, Ruben staying behind.

"What's up with him?" Xerxes asked her, confused when she began to blush.

"Nothing, he's just being Ruben," She said dismissively. The blush on her face said otherwise.

"Remember when we made a flower crown?" Cecelia brought the memory to Xerxes' attention.

He sighed and looked at the ceiling in fake forgetfulness. "No," his eyebrows cocked, "refresh me."

"Don't be a wise-ass," she grinned, rolling her eyes. "I'm babysitting Ruben's sister tonight. The flower crown was really fun and she's pretty into arts and crafts and girly stuff, so I thought she'd like to make one tonight." Cecelia winced at the accidental insult.

"You think flowers are girly?" Xerxes frowned playfully at her.

"Well they're not exactly manly," she calmed down when she saw that he wasn't actually upset. She shrugged, giving him a grin. "Don't worry, I still think you're manly. Kind of."

"I think you're manly too." He winked at her.

"So I was thinking we'd use pansies." Cecelia flashed him an innocent grin, ignoring his playful manner.

He nodded, his eyes falling to hers. They were a beautiful color, but he couldn't decide what it was. Greenish-hazel-blue. Beautiful.

"Earth to Xerxes," she waved a hand in his face, laughing at him.

He blinked, snapping out of his gaze. A blush adorned his cheeks and he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, right. Do you want a bouquet of them? And what colors?"

She decided on a mini bouquet of pinkish and white flowers.

"They're beautiful, thanks," she grinned. Xerxes looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Cecelia could only imagine what he was thinking, the romantic in her hoping for something like 'You're beautiful.'

Cecelia and Ruben left shortly after that and began walking to his house.

"You've gotta stop doing that around him," she complained. "He's gonna think I'm weird."

"Doing what?" Ruben played innocent, breaking into a fit of laughter when Cecelia shoved him in the side.

"Seriously though, don't act strange like that in front of him."

"No promises. Those are nice flowers," he observed, successfully getting her off topic.

"Aren't they? They'll make pretty crowns."

"Clary will love them," he said. Cecelia smiled at the thought of sweet, devious Clary. She was a bit of a prankster, even more so now that she was eight, and Cecelia adored her. Clary often tried her best to be in Ruben's room whenever she came over, which often ended in some sort of tantrum – by Ruben, not Clary.

Cecelia and Ruben arrived at his house about twenty minutes later, their only delay being the ice cream truck. Ruben's father was sitting at the kitchen counter when they walked in the back door.

"Cece!" Clary sprouted up from her seat, almost knocking it over, and saved herself from sprawling across the floor at the last minute before dashing over to Cecelia and hugging her legs.

"Hi, Clary! I've missed you. How was school today?" Cecelia asked her with a laugh as she tousled the girl's messy hair. She always thought Clary resembled Ruben in an almost freaky way; as if someone had cloned him and switched his gender and physical age. Mental age? Not so much.

"Why don't you tell them what happened today?" Ruben and Clary's father piped up from the table and cocked his eyebrows at his daughter. She began blushing and pulled away from Cecelia's legs to cover her face with both hands.

"Ooh, what happened?" Cecelia kneeled down to meet Clary's eye level.

"A boy gave me flowers today during recess," she giggled from behind her hands.

"Really?" Cecelia gasped, putting on an extra performance for the girl. "What kind of flowers?"

"I dunno, yellow ones?" Clary shrugged and began to tug at Cecelia's backpack, looking for something to play with.

"He gave her weeds," Ruben coughed, and Cecelia nodded with a laugh.

"Shut up, it's sweet," She rolled her eyes and Clary's wandering hands happened upon the wires in her bag.

"What are these for?" She asked, her eyes sparkling in bewilderment.

"I have an extra fun arts-and-crafts project for us today."

Minutes later, Cecelia had all of her supplies laid out on the kitchen table. Mr. Jones opted out of the project and headed upstairs, giving two teenagers and a second grader full reign.

Cecelia explained to Clary and Ruben how she and Xerxes had created hers and helped Clary start her own. Once she got the hang of it, the three began to talk while they crafted.

"Daddy said that boys give you flowers when they like you," Clary blurted out.

"Hear that, Cecelia? Boys give you flowers when they like you," Ruben gave her a teasing grin, and she threw some extra leaves at him.

"He's a florist," she reminded him.

"So? Just because it's Santa's job to give you presents doesn't mean he doesn't want to. Right, Clary?" Ruben turned to his sister for help with a laugh.

"Is Santa real?" She asked in return.

Ruben's face filled with panic and he turned to Cecelia for help.

Cecelia gave him a reassuring smile and looked at Clary skeptically. "Of course he is, duh. Do you like the flowers I picked out?" She quickly changed the subject and watched the fast change of emotion on the younger girl's face.

"Yes! They're super pretty. It's my favorite color," she nodded.

Cecelia tilted her head. "Pink is your favorite color?" She asked.

"Nope," Clary frowned, "my favorite color is white."

"That's very you, Clary," Ruben laughed.

The three continued talking while they struggled through their flower crowns, yet one thought continued to drift through Cecelia's mind the whole time.

Boys give you flowers when they like you.