Archive of Our Own ^beta

The girl you sit next to in English smells like dirt and green things.

“Good morning, Rose!” she says merrily as you enter the room. You smile back and murmur a good morning. She has dirt on her forehead. Her name is Jade, and her eyes are green like succulent leaves.

She wears rubber bands around her fingers so she won’t forget things, bright rings as she taps her fingers against her chin, brow furrowed in concentration. She falls asleep in class a lot - not just a doze, but deep sleep that few people can wake her from. You don’t usually try, and the teacher has given up. Instead, the teacher simply slides an extra set of papers to you and you give them to Jade when she wakes up. It seems likely she suffers from some form of narcolepsy. You think she may have done better in homeschool.

One day at lunch, she huffs and flops her head onto the table dramatically. “Ugh! I don’t understand, Rose!”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Don’t understand what?”

“Anything!”

Amused, you reply, “Would you care to be more specific?”

Her voice is muffled by the table and her hair now. “I don’t understand how you’re so smart!”

Now you raise both eyebrows. “Jade, I’m not particularly smart. I’m just good at school.”

“Bull,” Jade says, raising an arm and a finger to point it at the ceiling. She is still facedown on the table. “I call bull. You’re the smartest person I know, Rose.”

“Well, why do you think you’re not smart?”

She sits up and sighs, shoving her hair out of her face. “I have a D in English.”

“Oh, dear,” you say mildly, frowning. “Is it because of how often you fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” she says, pouting. “I have all the makeup work but it just doesn’t make any sense!”

“Probably because you were asleep during the lessons?”

“Yeah…” She slumps to the table again before sitting up abruptly. “Hey, wait! Could you tutor me, Rose?”

And that is how you end up at Jade’s house most days after school.
Jade lives on a small island just off the mainland. No one else lives there, and you don’t think anyone else knows she lives out there. It’s just her and her dog, Bec. Admittedly, he seems like a decent protector, but you wonder how well he can really take care of her emotionally.

Going to Jade’s house is also how you learn that Jade loves animals. Whenever the two of you decide to take a break from studying, she’ll brighten and ruffle Bec’s fur, chasing him outside. She has saved more than one unfortunate rodent or bird he’s managed to catch, ordering him to drop it and then cuddling it while she ushers Bec inside. He’s a very fast dog, she says, and it’s a wonder he doesn’t catch more.

One day, though, when you take a study break, you learn how much she loves plants.

She flops backwards on the couch. “I can’t do it, Rose! Why should I care about limbic petmeter?”

“Iambic pentameter,” you correct, but you see that she’s not going to get any more done like this. “Why don’t we take a break? We can come back to it later.”

She gets up sluggishly instead of quickly as she usually does. Bec remains curled up by the fire. It is cold outside, but very sunny. “Yeah,” she replies. “That sounds good. I need to check on my garden anyway.”

You are fairly certain gardens are not the kind of thing that need frequent checking on, but you decide against saying so. “You have a garden?”

She nods, slowly brightening. “Yeah. Here, I’ll show you.” She grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs. You haven’t gone up the stairs yet, mostly staying in the living room. She leads you into an enormous greenhouse filled with plants, flowers, and trees. You gape.

“I had no idea this was down here.”

She skips over to the workbench. “My grandpa left it for me. He built this whole house, and he added this greenhouse.” Before you can comment on this, she picks up a pair of gloves, and does not put them on herself, instead handing them to you. “I need to replant these violets - can you help me? You don’t have to put the gloves on, but I figured I’m not using them, so.”

You take the gloves and pull them on. You flex them a couple of times. They are very stiff, and you think from the amount of dirt she usually has under her fingernails, Jade never uses them. “Those don’t look like violets,” you remark, looking at the white, four-petaled blooms.

“They’re white violets,” Jade says. “They’re gonna go in this planter over here.”

You never get back to studying that day, instead spending the next two hours taking care of the garden with Jade. It is something of a study for you, however. A study in soil and leaves and blooms, a study in the way Jade’s eyes light up when she cares about her work and how good of a teacher she is, a study in the way she works until the rubber bands around her fingers are dark with dirt. As the sun is setting and the sky outside is getting dark, the light catches off of her hair and she drags a hand across her forehead, leaving a darker mark of soil on her dark skin. She is covered in dirt, and beautiful.

Oh fuck, you think dazedly, I’m in love.

She insists on taking you home, excusing it as a chance to walk Bec. It is dark by the time you get home and she says goodbye to you, waving. You smile and wave back. As you close the door, you can feel your face is flushed.

Your brother, Dave, exits the kitchen nonchalantly, munching on a chocolate bar. “Hey, Rose. You’re back late.”

You don’t say anything, and he looks back at you, frowning, and then starting to grin as he takes off his sunglasses and sees the color suffusing your cheeks. “Oh,” he says. “Ohhh.”

You draw yourself up with as much pride and dignity as you can muster. “Shut the fuck up, Dave,” you say imperiously, and stalk down the hallway to your room.

You can hear Dave cackling delightedly behind you.