Dear Daisy,

I hope you get this letter. I had to bury through mum's desk to find a stamp for it. She has been gone a lot lately, I'm not sure why. They always leave me with a babysitter and it gets so boring, even with Leo and Tommy. Do you remember the one who used to babysit you when your little? The old one with the wart on her jaw? Her name is Mrs. Gregory and I always hide in the cupboard when she comes. Mrs. Gregory never thinks to look there.

I miss you, Daisy. How is nana? Has she made you soup everyday? How is the beach? Have you made any new friends? I miss playing Hungry Hippo with you and listening to you read Harry Potter to me. Do you think we will ever get to the last one?

Mum won't tell me why you left. She just said that you're like a monarch— you know, those butterflies? She said that they migrate at a special time once they grow their wings. I asked if the butterflies ever come back after they migrate, but she didn't say anything. I hope you come back soon, Daisy.

Xxxx Piper

(P.S. Tommy has a girlfriend now and it's gross.)

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"Is grocery shopping like our thing now?"

Zayn was analyzing a pack of blueberries with a furrow of his brows. "Our thing?" he repeated, laughing. "Yeah sure. We are great at it together, don't you think?"

"It's not like there is much else to do, anyway."

"Ah," he placed the berries back, visibly unimpressed by their lack of freshness. "Now you're starting to sound like a true local. Missing the big city already?"

"I didn't say that," Daisy half-smiled. She certainly did find herself longing for the bustling streets of London at times— the hum of life that sifted through the air, the smell of fresh pastries at every corner mixed with the heavy car exhaust, the tourists that would tap on your shoulder for directions. "Kent is lovely. I adore the shops and the beach and the..."

"Shops? You mean Tesco?" Zayn snickered as they weaved down the bread aisle.

Daisy grabbed those muffins Nana loved. The movie store came to mind but she bit her tongue. "No, silly. Like that cool donut shop on Main and the little boutique by it. It feels very... retro."

"Retro!" Zayn tossed his head back. "That's rich. You should be a real estate agent, and convince blokes to move here. You can tell them about the scenic beaches covered in litter and cold sand."

"I just might." Daisy adorned a glow to her cheeks that was a rarity these days. She stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to Zayn, brushing his shoulder to make him stop beside her. "So, sir, what kind of home are you vying for?"

Zayn immediately went along with it, eyebrow peeking up. "Well, if I'm honest, I'd really like something cozy and warm."

"Warm, did you say?" Daisy licked her lips to keep from giggling. "You're in luck. The average temperature in Kent is a whopping five degrees. While that may sound cold, it actually is so freezing that your fingers and toes will start to feel numbed by fire. Can you believe that? Even better— every shop's got a heater right above the door to whip you with the breath of hell itself."

"Holy shit," Zayn's eyes widened, "Better than living in Cali."

"Mhm," Daisy nodded. "Are you sold?"

"Not quite. What about the people?"

"The people are okay," a pair of green eyes flashed in her mind, "They can be a bit grumpy and anti-social, but can you blame them? The rain puts everyone in a bit of a mood."

"I'm not a people guy anyway. I'm sold." Zayn grinned and her cheeks became tight with a suppressed laugh.

They walked together through the maze of the Tesco. It was funny that grocery-shopping was the highlight of Daisy's week. Well, besides the stack of movies that she had been going through each night, but she wasn't ready to admit that.

Zayn was fun. He made her feel a little more at home in this unfamiliar, cold town. His eyes were warm and his laugh was like the spring air. They reached the cash register and paid for their groceries, then walked home together. He lived on the other side of town, she had found out, but he was still polite enough to walk with her.

"Your milk is gonna go bad by the time you get to your flat," she pointed out, hands gripping the paper bag handles with all her strength.

"Eh, I can walk pretty fast."

"Okay, Usain," she teased.

It was not raining today, but somehow her hair and skin still fell a sheen layer of moisture on them. It seemed the ocean water filled the air even on the sunnier days.

"Daisy, can I ask you something?" Zayn hummed, glancing down at her. "Something about women."

"Oh— sure."

"Nothing weird," he laughed quickly, "Just about my friend, Astrid, actually. Remember her from the cafe the other day?"

"Yeah, of course. Blonde hair, a little out-of-it."

"That's the one," Zayn nodded, sighing. "It's her birthday coming up. Lara wants to throw her a party at my flat, you know, to surprise her. Honestly, I'm not sure if it's the best idea."

"Why's that?"

"Well, as you noticed, Astrid has been... dealing with some difficult things." Zayn looked thoughtfully at that line where the sky met the disappearing street. "For a while now, actually. You see, women are a bit different than guys, I've learned. I know it's just the way society raises us, and the gendered media we're fed, but it's still hard for me to understand you lot sometimes."

"What do you mean?" Daisy pressed her tongue to her cheek. The grocery bag was slipping from grip every minute or so, so she hoisted back it up with a quiet hmpfh.

"When shit happens to guys, we ignore it," Zayn explained. "Which is super unhealthy, I know. But we just ignore our feelings and carry on as though nothing happened until our feelings spill over and we burst. Women— you guys really dwell on your feelings. Which is great because it means you reflect on them and learn how to cope. But sometimes you guys can dwell for a bit longer than needed."

Daisy made a face, "I see what you're saying, but I don't think that's a women thing, it's just a human thing."

"Well, anyway," Zayn waved his hand and huffed. "I'm just not sure how to help her through her difficult feelings anymore. It sucks because I worry about throwing my own friend a birthday party since it's hard to predict how she will react. She has been dwelling for too long. It's like she's running away from what's bothering her instead of facing it and moving on."

Daisy almost stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She felt her stomach tighten from his words, and the face of his blonde, tense friend stared her down judgmentally in her mind. It was hard to imagine that he wasn't actually talking about her, but rather than the girl she had been a little too quick to judge on their first meeting.

"Running away?" Daisy repeated with a cough.

Zayn nodded. "I'm not sure how else to describe it. Sorry if I'm laying this all on you. What you said the other day about your paintings, and how everyone feels the same things— well, I guess I thought maybe you had felt something similar before and could help me understand."

"I have," she admitted numbly. "But I'm not sure I have an answer for you. Everyone deals with the shit life throws at us differently. Can I ask what happened to her?"

"It's a bit personal, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course," she swallowed. "Zayn, I think you should just ask her what she needs from you. Sometimes communicating is the only option. Ask her if a big party is too much for her right now. And maybe ask how you can help her address whatever it is she has been dwelling on."

"You say it likes it's so easy, Dais," Zayn groaned with a smile. "Okay if I call you that? Dais?"

She nodded. "It's easier than people think. I think you are a great friend."

"I will give that a try then," Zayn said, and the rest of the walk consisted of talks about art and music and that new song they were both in love with.

It wasn't until Friday night that Daisy decided to do something about Harry. She knew she couldn't avoid him forever- she did have a stack of movies to return or else she was sure she'd have to pay a fine. She knew that Harry would be there on Saturday to tend the flowers, and she was not prepared for that awkward of an exchange. She decided to suck it up like an adult. She would drop the movies off, offer a little small talk, and head home.

Of course, by the time she walked all the way there, opened the door to the shop with a chime from the doorbell and sauntered to the front desk with a racing heart, Daisy was met with an unfamiliar face.

An older face. Aged with frowning lips and a bored look. She nearly frowned back at the man.

"Hi," she greeted, motioning to the movies in her hands. "I have these movies to give back."

"What day did you check them out?"

"Um, I didn't actually check them out." She bit her lip and looked around subtly, hoping to see a familiar mop of hair. Why was she looking for him? Why was she disappointed to see Harry wasn't there when she had been avoiding him all week anyway?

Daisy couldn't help it, "Is Harry here by chance?"

The older man eyed her knowingly. "That bloke is a friend of yours?"

"Yes, I suppose."

The man rubbed at the barely-there stubble on his chin. "He left about thirty minutes ago. Should be back soon."

"Oh, where did he go?" Daisy wondered aloud.

"Said something about a girl."

Daisy's frown deepened. A girl. She didn't know why, because she certainly would not feel jealous about Harry having a girlfriend, but she still felt a pang of disappointment run through her. She decided she was wasting everyone's time by standing there with a silly look on her face, so she shook her head to herself and plopped the movies on the counter.

She had run away that night for a reason. Daisy knew she needed to set boundaries for herself if she was going to heal and grow in this new city the way she hoped to. Mixing up with a snobby boy just because he made her heart flutter was below her.

"Well, just tell Harry that I came by with these-"

Just then, the doorbell chimed and a gust of the night air entered the shop.

"She wasn't fucking there, Calvin."

"Harry?" Daisy whipped around and she didn't even have time to breathe as her eyes landed on his pale, chilled skin. His hair was wrapped in a thick beanie and he was just reaching for the hem of his coat when he met her gaze and froze.

"Shit, you're here?" Harry let out a breath and studied her with wide eyes.

"Yes, I--" she cleared her throat, "I was just dropping off the movies."

Harry ran a hurried hand through his hair and seem to laugh to himself. She frowned, unsure of what she said that could have been funny to him.

"That's rich," he stepped towards her and her nostrils were infiltrated by his familiar scent. A scent she had tried forgetting since their last encounter, but now that he was here in front of her, she basked in it. It was a crisp scent, cold and warm at the same time, and Daisy wondered if it was even a good scent at all or if she was just losing her mind.

"What?"

"I was just at Ms. Cecile's house," Harry muttered with a small laugh. "I was going to check on you."

"Check on me?"

"Well, the movies," he corrected himself and pinched the shoulder of his tee. "I was going to pick them up from you."

"Oh," she blinked and then gave a playful smile. "How funny. We both just missed each other."

"Hilarious, yeah," Calvin spoke from behind them. He rolled his eyes to himself, grabbed the movies, and disappeared among the shelves.

Daisy was still smiling for some reason, her eyes darting around as she kept studying Harry's messed-up hair and the furrow of his brows, and the pink that crawled up his neck from the cold. Her heart did that thing that it sometimes did, especially when she was around him, and she didn't even notice that a few awkward beats of silence had passed.

"What did you think of them?" Harry finally spoke, uncertainty lacing his baritone voice.

For a moment, she forgot what he was talking about. "So good," Daisy replied and forced away her stupid smile. "Fuck, Harry, they were incredible. Especially Good Will Hunting. You were right. It is so raw. I cried during it, I swear."

"I would be concerned if you didn't," Harry smirked. "And The Truman Show?"

"It kind of freaked me out! I mean, I had a hard time sleeping after. I felt like someone was watching me all night," she admitted, her voice fast and eager to share the thoughts she had been wanting to tell since the night she'd watched it. "It really makes you think about life being a simulation, huh? Like how many of our choices are even our own?"

Harry chuckled, "Slow down there, Nietzsche."

She blushed. "You know what I mean."

"I do. I'm glad you enjoyed them."

"I really did. Better than sex..." Daisy found herself saying without a thought, recalling his words.

Harry raised a brow but luckily seemed to understand her reference. A thickness lodged in his throat before he nodded in agreement, "Maybe not better, really. On par with sex. How 'bout that?"

When all she offered in response was a small smile, Harry changed the topic. "Did you walk?" the boy asked, frowning at her.

"Don't worry about it-"

"No, c'mon. It's getting bloody cold out there," he shook his head and zipped his coat back up as if to make his point. "I'm about to head home anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"No, actually, I change my mind," he said with a flat voice and a roll of his eyes. "Yes, now c'mon."

The two of them departed the shop. The cold air was abrupt and Daisy was silently grateful that Harry hadn't let her deny the ride home this time. Her skin was only cold for a second, because soon she was sitting in the passenger seat of his 2008 Honda, a veil of warmth emitted from the somehow-still-working AC. His car was cramped and just the right amount of mess for a guy his age. Harry breathed into his hands, rubbed them together, and hastily started the crackly engine.

"Fuck this town," he said as he started driving. "Can't catch a break from this weather." He paused before glancing at the girl beside him. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"London," she replied.

"Makes sense."

"How so?"

"Nothing, you just seem like a big city girl."

"Just like I seem like the type who knows fuck shit about films?"

Harry groaned, "I thought we were past that."

Daisy smirked at him, remembering their initial encounter. "I dunno. What did you say again? About my tattoo and messy hair?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied quickly, and his eyes shifted to the barely-exposed ink on Daisy's arm. "You know, I actually think that tattoo is alright. What does it mean?"

"I'm glad you think it's 'alright'. I don't know what I would do if you didn't approve of it," she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay. More than alright. What does it mean, though?" Harry didn't look at her as he spoke, the sleeve of his loose sweater falling down his forearm as he reached for the blinker. She noticed that his left arm was tattoo-free.

"It's about femininity," she explained. She continued to stare at his arm, watching the small veins and tendons flex as he gripped the wheel. "I believe feminine energy is gentle, and strong, and full of life. The blooming flowers remind me of birth- physical birth but also the rebirth that girls go through when they become women. It can be really hard to accept your femininity in a world that sees it as weak and laughable."

Harry sucked in a breath and slowly nodded. He seemed to be replaying her explanation in his head, because his eyes were narrowed thoughtfully, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you have any?"

"Tattoos? Yeah, just a few. None of them mean anything quite like yours, though. I got most of them when I was high in uni." He shrugged and went back to thoughtfulness.

There was a comfortable silence that settled and Daisy relaxed into it. Against her will, her mind drifted to thoughts of her old friends back in London. Stella and Frankie— she had known them since primary school. She picked at a thread on her jeans, thinking of how shitty it was that she hadn't called them since arriving to Nana's. Calling them felt like touching a life that was desperately trying to let go of. Perhaps it was best if she focused on her new friends like Zayn... and maybe even the movie snob sitting beside her.

"All I know about you is that you like films," Daisy spoke after a minute or so.

"What else is there to know?"

"I dunno. What about your family? Do you have siblings?"

"Nope," Harry replied. "Only child. I loved it that way."

"Really? It must have gotten boring."

"Not at all. My parents were divorced so I got to have two bedrooms. And I also got to have my friends over whenever I wanted."

"When did they get divorced?" she asked curiously.

"Are you writing my memoir?" He huffed. "I was little. Two or three."

"I don't know why I asked, sorry," Daisy said sheepishly.

To her surprise, he shrugged. "It's okay. My turn for a question."

"Okay," Daisy sat up straighter. "Shoot."

Harry flickered his gaze towards her and then back to the dark road. "Why did you leave like that? Last Friday."

Oh. Her nose scrunched up and she immediately looked anywhere but him. Daisy had almost forgotten about her unexpected fleeing the last time they saw each other. To be reminded of it made her breath stick to her mouth. The air was suddenly denser between them and she struggled to find her words.

Harry noticed her hesitation and continued, "Was it something I said? I know I can be a real dick sometimes."

"No," Daisy said quickly. "No, it wasn't you. I just- I just freaked out a little."

"Why?" Harry pressed further, lips tight. "If you didn't want to hang out with me, you can just say it. I promise I don't give a shit."

"What the hell does that mean?" she shot back at him.

"My feelings won't be hurt is what I am saying." Harry raised one hand from the steering wheel as if to show his innocence. "I'm just curious 'bout it."

"Honestly, why would I want to hang out with you? You basically told me I was pretentious and fake without knowing anything about me!"

Harry shook his head, palming his forehead as he sighed. "Fuck- I've said this all wrong."

"Yes, you have." She practically huffed, crossing her arms the same way her little sister did when she was upset. Daisy's chest tightened with a flare of annoyance. "I promise I don't give a shit," he'd said. His words stung the same way his first words had stung her. Why did he bother speaking at all? Clearly, Harry was not good with words. She wanted to tell him that, to tell him that his hair was messy and his car was a mess and he was an idiot, but instead she stared out the window. Thankfully, her Nana's house was coming into view.

The second Harry stopped the car, Daisy unbuckled and grabbed her bag. She leapt for the handle of the door, pulled at it and had one leg out of the vehicle just before a hand grabbed her forearm and ushered her back inside.

"Hey," the bloke beside her said in a whisper. He chewed on his lip as Daisy glared at him from behind her bangs. She unwillingly closed the door to keep the cold out as she awaited his next words.

"I am sorry 'bout that," Harry spoke quietly but with urgency. "I don't know why, but sometimes I just say stupid things."

"You made it sound like you don't want to be my friend," she mumbled, her words edged and sharp. Harry practically winced.

"Well, I do," he insisted. "I want to be your friend. I just haven't made new friends in a long time. Be patient with me, yeah?"

"You can't say things like that."

"I know, I know. I don't think properly sometimes."

"That's not an excuse to be rude, Harry."

"Yeah," he agreed with a single nod. He rubbed his cheek, looked down at his big black boots, and then offered a weak smile. "Hey. I will be by in the morning to work on the garden. Do you want to hang out afterwards?"

"Hang out as friends?" Daisy asked, and although she meant the words, some small part of her hoped he'd say something else.

"Yeah, as friends. I can show you some cool spots around town."

"Okay," she breathed. Her stomach did a little twirl and she reached for the handle again. "See you, then." And with that, she opened the door and fled into the dark night. Her heart was doing that thing again as she made her way into the house, forcing herself not to look back until she was hidden inside and she could peak from beside the curtain. Daisy watched the boy turn his headlights back on and pull out of the driveway, her moment of annoyance nowhere to be found.

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