Pop 22

Petals tiptoed across the nursing home garden,

hand shovel dangling in one hand,

eyes glued to the gardener like he was a shirtless K-drama lead dropped into suburbia.

He was watering the grass, his biceps glistening in the sun.

When he caught her staring, he winked.

Petals giggled.

Then— in slow motion—he lifted his white shirt to wipe his forehead,

revealing a full spread of six-pack abs.

“Oh my—” Petals whispered,

clutching her chest like she’d just been baptized.

But before she could faint into the flower bed,

her shoe nearly landed on Olive’s head.

Olive was crouched low, digging holes for rose planters.

“What the hell, Petals?!” Olive barked,

brushing dirt from her hair. “You trying to bury me alive?”

Petals shrieked, fumbled for her phone,

and was halfway to dialing 911 when Olive snatched it.

“Relax,” Olive groaned. “If you crushed me, I’d be flat by now.

Apparently, I’m still alive.”

Petals, hands on hips, narrowed her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re here to plant...or to get planted?”

Petals glanced back, only to nearly faint—the gardener had turned the hose on himself,

showering like it was a slow-motion shampoo commercial.

Water cascaded from his hair to his chest,

carving rivers across his six-pack abs, his gaze never leaving hers.

His eyes, locked on hers.

And then he winked.

Olive snorted. “Please. He’s not my type.

What would I do with a six-pack?

These rose bushes aren’t growing on his stomach.

Besides, I think he’s more into you.”

Petals lit up like a slot machine jackpot.

“Really? You think so? I always thought so! Every time he sees me,

boom—flash of the abs. It’s basically a Morse code of love.

The only thing I can’t figure out is our wedding date.

Do you think I’m thinking way ahead of what’s real?”

“Then why don’t you talk to him to find out where

you are on his heart?”

Olive teased. “Want me to ask for you?”

Petals, suddenly shy, plopped down beside Olive and started helping dig.

She shot Olive a look. “You hate gardening. What are you really doing here?”

Olive gave a crooked smile.

Petals smirked. “Don’t lie. You’re just here to cheer me up.

How much do you need? I only got twenty,

but I can spare a ten if you promise to pay me back.”

Olive shrugged. “I don’t need cash. But I’ll take your ten—I’m low on ciggies.”

Petals rolled her eyes, yanked out a crumpled ten,

and shoved it into Olive’s pocket.

“Fine. But you better pay me back. I’ve got my eye on the vending machine chips.”

They planted in silence for a moment before Olive blurted,

“Petals… why does it matter so much to join Mrs. Margarette’s zoo tour?

If you just want to see a giraffe, Ashton and I can take you.

No need for her and her crazy minions. We can rent a truck if that’s what

it will take to fit you in properly”

Petals almost shrieked, “Truck? I’m not that huge!”

Petals sighed like a tragic soap opera heroine. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain.” Olive crossed her arms.

“Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve got real friends.

Ashton and me. We love you. We trust each other.

What’s the point of chasing people who don’t care?”

Petals dropped her shovel and sat on the nearby bench,

staring at the half-planted roses.

“It’s not about hating you guys. It’s… it’s just the feeling of being in a group, Olive.

Like belonging, even if they don’t like me. Do you know what that feels like?

Trust is like seeing a giraffe in real life. It gives you comfort

and peace of mind knowing that the one staring back at you

knew that you exist in front of him”

Olive sat beside her. She understood. Because Petals wasn’t stupid—she knew about the pills.

“I should’ve told you,” Olive said softly.

“I’ve been hiding something from you and Ashton…

not because I don’t trust you—I do, Petals, I really do.

It’s just… this secret felt like something I needed to wrestle with on my own,

in silence, until I could face it….until I’m ready to tell you, and Ashton”

Petals raised a brow. “Olive Bloom, how many times have I told you—use protection.

Don’t tell me Tristan got you pregnant.”

Olive burst out laughing. “Pregnant?! Don’t be silly, at my age?! No—it’s not about Tristan.”

Petals leaned in. “Then it’s true. You did turn young. What I saw was real,

I’m not hallucinating, it’s not a dream. Olive Bloom what did you do?

Tell me, how did you turned young?!”

Olive sighed and pulled a small pill bottle from her pocket.

“They give me five minutes of youth,” she explained.

“I found them by accident. It rolled on the floor while Tristan and I are you know what,

doing stuff by the meds room. We hide under some stuff, and that’s when

Nurse Pam’s boyfriend dropped them—he’s some pill scientist or whatever.

I’ve been taking them for a month. But most of them got washed down the drain.

These are what’s left, well I split it between you and Ashton”

Petals took the Pills as Olive nods.

Petals gasped, clutching the bottle. “And Tristan—did he dump you because of this?”

Olive shook her head, a tear slipping down.

“He knew. He didn’t care. He just… stopped loving me for reasons I can’t figure out”

Petals hugged her tight. “Oh, Olive. I’m so sorry.”

Olive patted her back.

“You deserve these more than me. Take them.

Show Mrs. Margarette you’re not just… fat. Show them who you really are.”

Petals stared at the pills, muttering,

“This is nuts. How could something like this exist? This is, like, horror-movie science.

I don’t even know if this is for real”

“Only one way to find out,” Olive said. “Pop one.”

“I already did,” Petals mumbled, rolling her eyes. “See? Nothing’s—”

Her words froze.

Because the gardener was suddenly in front of her, eyes wide, shirt abandoned on the grass.

“Whoa,” he whispered. “Did you just—? Are you okay?”

Petals blinked. She had no idea she’d transformed into her younger, slimmer self.

The gardener sat right next to her, guiding her hand to his abs like it was destiny.

“Nothing’s wrong, honey. Everything’s just right.”

Olive, wide-eyed, muttered, “I am so not watching this,” and stormed off.

Petals kept her hand on his abs until the five minutes passed.

She shrank back to herself with a soft pop, still clutching his abs like they were her life support.

She gasped. “So—did it work? Did I look younger?”

The gardener grinned, flexing for emphasis.

“You did. But honestly? You don’t need the pills.

Young or old, slim or curvy—you’re beautiful.

What matters is that you love… these abs.

Because this is my kingdom—the kingdom of perfect abs.

And anyone who worships them is welcome in my abs-mazing world.”

Petals nearly fainted. “Abs-mazing,” she whispered like it was poetry.

He winked. “And I hate to ask this right here, right now—it feels fast,

maybe even weird—but… can we… you know?”

Petals clutched her cheeks, swooning.

“Okay then. But first—call me Pretty. Because I’ve always known I’m so pretty.”

The gardener scooped her right off her feet in a bridal carry.

“Okay, Pretty,” he teased. “Where do you want to do it?”

Petals froze, suddenly shy.

No one had ever lifted her like that before.

And weirdly this will be her “first time”

All these years she hold true to her “virtues”

“I—I don’t know. Not in my room. Olive’s a total perv, she’ll spy on us.”

The gardener smirked mischievously.

“Then how about the secret garden out back? No one will see us there.

Plus it will be totally romantic”

Petals sighed dramatically.

“I don’t know… I’m tired of hiding. I don’t want to be a shadow anymore.

Maybe I want people to know, ‘cause they always see me as someone

that can’t be loved.”

The gardener slowly touched the tears out of Petals eyes and he

wiped it with his lips.

He then kissed Petals, slowly and intimately.

And then he withdraw.

The gardener gave her the look—that sparkling, over-the-top K-drama gaze.

Petals squinted. “What? What are you thinking?”

He flashed his perfect pearly whites. “Two words. Live stream.”