Florets Insect Experiences Ch 10

The two days before graduation passed slowly like a creeping caterpillar. A haze, a daze, filled my head, as I shoddily prepared for the ceremony. On both days before it, I sent Jasmine a new message, asking some menial things about graduation, about her plans, and other things. Trying not to sound desperate, like I wasn't fishing for answers and a response. Just to hear something from her... was that so much to ask?

Both times and even now, she still hasn't responded... I'm this close to going to her house or calling her uncle. I... I just can't do that, right? It feels too... desperate. Besides, her phone must have broken. Or she'll have some other likely explanation and it'll all make sense today. That's what really happened. I would look real silly if I went up to visit her, after just two days of not hearing from her... I mean... I've never visited her before, so... a first visit should be a kind of a big deal right...? Like if she asks me to walk her home, and then come inside the house to study... and then I ask if anyone else is home, and she says: "No." with a deep blush, that kind of a big deal.

A sigh rattles my being, I suppose I should get dressed finally... I squeeze the old indestructible cellphone in my grip as I get up from bed. It was the day of Graduation, and I had barely slept this night, or the previous. It's almost funny... how can I be such a wreck all of a sudden...? I grin and laugh dryly, stopping before my misty eyes drop any rain on my school outfit, which is splayed before me on the chair.

That's right, we didn't have school uniforms, per se, just an outfit we had to wear to the most official and traditional (stuck-up) events. The graduation, of course, being the top of the top ruler-up-the-ass celebrations.

As was tradition worldwide, the uniforms had a massive disparity between genders, we women didn't get to wear pants. Black pantyhose and a dark blue skirt are what we have to get by, though personally, I wasn't too bothered. The tight but stretchy fabric wasn't too bad, even if I was a firm believer in the liberation of the skin, the slight pressure of the pantyhose was delightful and a little exciting. Though, just a little bit, because I was wearing panties today, sorry, but this is one event I can't screw up. Even if the panties were almost a thong, it's not like had bought them for that purpose, they were just that old, that I had somewhat outgrown them. The pink and white striped underwear still fit, but they were a little narrow.

With my lower part clothed, I lift the plain white dress shirt, swish it over my back, and shoot my hand through the sleeve. I start buttoning up the shirt but stop just before my breasts. I realized I hadn't put on a bra yet... So I tear the shirt off me and rummage through my closet, I hadn't remembered to pick one ready yesterday.

My hand happens upon something that feels different, I recognize this feeling, it's an ancient relic. It was actually my mom's... I mean, Flurel's bra. Which also happened to be the sluttiest bra I had, starkly red, see-through fabric, with golden lace around the cups. Quite alluring, to say the least, if at gunpoint I had to name one positive about Flurel, then it would be her fashion sense. This particular bra had been thrown out of my parent's bedroom door, while dad wasn't home. I kept it as evidence, but I realized it wouldn't prove a thing... So I just kept it as a hostage, to someday perhaps use in negotiations against her... but that day hadn't arrived, and I had forgotten all about it. I did say I was supposed to be serious but... how could I not?

I put on the crimson gold bra of see-through lace, it's slightly too big, I remember years ago when I tried it the first time, how they were like bowls compared to mine. But now it feels rather snug... and... I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Wearing these makes me feel extra mature, and spiteful, like I could take on the world.

I wonder, how I would feel if I had panties with some... interesting history instead of these boring old panties... what if I had... nicked a pair of Jasmine's from her locker? Hold on, I wonder if she ever returned to pick up her stuff, maybe they were still in the swimming club locker...?

No, no, no! What am I thinking? That's wrong. And besides, surely she has emptied her locker, like the diligent student that she is.

I accept this great deficit in the clothing department and put on the shirt finally, even these two layers weren't enough, I really wonder who came up with this uniform, the short skirt is awfully modern, but then... we still have to wear this suit jacket kind of piece with it, on top of the formal shirt. Its fabric wasn't as rigid or thick as a suit's but otherwise, it was identical, though it is dark blue and not black. And... it has a plaid-like pattern, only that it's ruined with flower and plant patterns all around the tiles.

I go to the bathroom and check myself out in the mirror, I push my breasts up a little bit. They stay perked up there, looks like the slightly loose bra had its benefits. If I keep a straight-backed posture, they stay there, until I take a few practice steps. So... before I see Jasmine, I'll do this, and then walk really gently, to deliver this amazing alluring sight for her. She's bound to fall for me, this is my last chance. If I don't get her to fawn over me now... then I definitely will be in trouble if I've gotta try and make up some excuse for us to meet...

I pose and spin around the mirror, looking myself all over. Tell me, what do you think I look like? Well, I'll give you a few pointers, but the ship for that has sailed already. If you already don't have a clear picture of me in your head, that is.

I have short hair, how short, you'll get to decide, as well as the color. I brush and adjust my locks and watch to what position they settle down to, at least they weren't too ruffled up after the night. I quickly put on a thin layer of lipstick closely matching the color of my lips, and a touch of cosmetic powder nearly the same shade as my skin. What color were those though...? Hmm... that's a secret.

A little bit of mascara and highlighting for my eyes, and I'm ready to go.

Actually, the school celebratory outfit had one last part, a black square cap, with a circular headpiece to plant firmly on one's head, with a golden tassel on top hanging from a string. But, I wouldn't need that part, or perhaps... should I put this on top of my flower? A double hat? No... that would simply be too ridiculous.

To my nylon-clad feet, I slip on a pair of rather beautiful black shoes, not heels, unfortunately, though these were quite narrow, and had a bit of a higher heel, but nothing ridiculous like that.

Even if I did have sparkling red high heels looted from Flurel as well, they must have cost over 300 dollars to boot, but those only gave my feet agony and nothing else. She said she got them from work, to look pretty when receiving customers, but I knew they were a gift from one of her many lovers. I heard another one of them had money problems, so after one of their fucking sessions, I crawled into the room when they were sleeping after their "exercise" and swiped them from her closet. The toughest part was to not leave an evidence trail of my own juices on the bedroom carpet. If nothing else, at least Flurel knew to pick men who were good at sex, or at least, she was very good at acting and screaming to deceive them for their possessions.

The next day, to check the progress of my scheme, I swiped her phone after she threw it onto the sofa and stomped away, face red with fury. She had raged at him so hard in her text messages, thinking he had stolen them to sell them. I laughed so hard that I almost got caught. Sadly, Dad didn't come home before I had to relinquish the phone to not get in trouble, besides, even when I tried showing him her cheating text messages years ago, it didn't work... Flurel just put all the blame on me, claiming I had sent them to frame her, that was just an angsty teen making trouble, and that was the end of that. So, I really didn't know what else I could do than give her as much trouble as I could from the shadows.

Troane... shouldn't you trust your daughter over your hoe...? But I suppose... it was hard since she had been with my dad longer than I had been around. Nobody ever gave him the chance to wake up to reality while his recovery would have still been possible... If only Flurel had been this evil stepmother that barged into our lives, I could have banished her using our father-daughter bond like in so many movies and books...

Enough of that... I'm getting short of breath just thinking back... half of that from the arousal of my decadent memories, and the other half from the anger.

I slide a frustrated hand across my face and try to focus and calm down. I can't think of anything I forgot to do, so I walk to the door of my house. Next to it, the Corpse flower waited patiently. At the bottom of it, I had carved a small roundish indent, to allow it to sit on my head. It had oozed some fluids before, but it felt dry to the touch now. The flower had regained some of its vigor after I let it rest in the sun and its pot the last few days, though it didn't have time to lay down proper roots.

I lift the heavy flower, and wrap it in a black plastic bag, holding it with both hands like I was a waiter, with a weighty tray.

I sigh a deep and long breath. "Let's get this over with... I went through all that trouble to find you..." as I look at the plastic bag I continue to speak aloud. "And I suppose I did promise it to you too. Let's go make our entrance."

***

As I approach the school grounds, curious gazes find me, and some students holler towards me:

"What's in the bag?"

"What's that smell? Are you actually carrying garbage to graduation?"

"Don't you see, that's just her classmate from Class F!"

The Class A's students burst into a mocking laughter, sneering at me.

Just you wait, we'll see who's laughing then!

I see the auditorium ahead, a separate building, but still within school grounds. Made of red bricks, lined with deep red smooth stone pillars and red-hued wooden details, it was quite the sight. The auditorium's use was strictly regulated, utilized especially in entrance examinations, tests that measured the university's performance on an international scale were also held there. Some of the big lectures from outside parties who came to visit and talk some grandiose nonsense were confined there too, as well as some of the courses' exams.

We all had basically the same curriculum, a general knowledge University, with no specializations, so sometimes everyone would have an exam at the same time here from the same subject.

Despite the school not preparing us for any specific field, somehow people believed that the general tutelage given here was so advanced, so different, that people strove to attend from all over the world. One of the many lies, truly the greatest con of the town, some might even call it an achievement. I couldn't argue with the results that we were apparently churning out, being the number one in the world, year after year in all measured statistics. But even now that I was about to graduate, I couldn't believe that somehow this 3,5 years here was enough to prepare me to pick up basically any job. I would have never even made it past the examination test if I wasn't born here. The school's esteemed, envied status, made the entry exam exceedingly difficult. The only ones who could attend without taking it were the residents, and getting residency here was nothing if not impossible.

I often wondered how the world would react if it knew the truth of Perennial Bloom, and its "miraculous success story" that put this tiny nation's capital of the same name on the map.

A cesspit of rotten traditions, conservative values so old they had already molded over a decade ago, and the worst kind of "island mentality", a small community extolling how great we are all the time while spreading rumors about the person next door. And worst of all, your status was determined by the flower you managed to graduate when you were still an immature, stupid student. If you somehow lived here, without graduating from this school, it was like you might as well not have existed, or at least, you'd soon hope you didn't.

Fuck if it didn't drive me up the wall. Burning this all down might be too big for just one person, but you could be damn sure I wouldn't miss a chance to take any easy potshots at it.

There's a folding sign up ahead, just like those at the entrance to restaurants, and a male student, crouching before it. It was really easy to tell, since the men's outfit was different, with a dark green jacket instead of blue and straight, creaseless, trousers of black instead of a skirt.

He stands up and brushes his brow and then plants his fists on his hips, a thick marker clutched between his fingers.

I approach the sign; it's the timetable for the graduation events as I suspected.

Let's see... Her multi-talented name should be here... if I remember correctly, it should be right before Iris' song... Here it is; Jasmine's piano concert...

W-what-? What do you mean... canceled?

A red pen has drawn a long line across the letters, and written at the end, "Canceled" in surprisingly fine, but forlorn font.

"God, what is that smell?" The bloke standing next to me looks at me with disgust. It's Brendan, he sniffs the air and looks at me, scrunching up his nose.

"W-what's the meaning of this? What do you mean canceled?"

"O- oh... Floret. Hi. I mean..." He scratches his neck. "I just heard about it today too, and I've been correcting the posters all morning. Word travels way too slowly through the student council, but apparently, this was an order from Thorndal himself."

"Huh?"

"I don't know what the deal was, but she won't be attending the graduation."

W-what...? She's not going to be here? But... I did all this... for her...

I can't get a word out, I just gasp for air, my face twisted in a painful grimace.

"Good talk, anyway, if you see Sarah and Emily you better tell them I'm expecting payment by today for them ditching me to do this all alone! And they better be bearing it all in the pictures!" Brendan passes me and steps into the auditorium hall through its open double doors.

A particular scene from two days ago, returns to Floret's mind when they were fetching the ballsack with Dahlia and Kloe.

Jasmine met Thorndal in the yard... and shook hands with him and the Coach... A rigid official-looking paper and a black car... Could she have... no... no... no! S-she must have just had something to do today, maybe she got sick! I- I

will

go to her house and find her there after the Graduation, make things right! That's for sure!

Floret stomps her foot to the ground, rips the garbage bag off the Corpse Flower, and firmly plants the flower on her head. The garbage bag flies in the wind and gets tangled up to a nearby student's face with a yelp. She powers forwards, towards the auditorium's doors with determination, fists clenched.

Immediately the people still outside take note, and a great murmuring starts that becomes a full-blown cacophony, loud like a crowd at a party, or a conference of the next buzzword-filled start-up company.

Floret doesn't care enough to even look around, students are pointing at her, taking pictures, searching up on their phones, what this amazing if not grotesque plant that is without a doubt a flower on her head. The people she passes soon start to cough from the smell and retreat away their eyes watering.

She stomps into the auditorium, the red gargantuan flower stays atop her head rather effortlessly, its weight cemented it in place snugly.

As she steps further into the grand hall she sees the high ceiling, and light brown shiny lacquered wood walls, it's a fairly level space with rigid chairs in place leading more downwards with each step, with retractable tables at the backside of each, and a stage at the far end, furthest down.

Gazes turn towards her as more and more people notice, causing the chatter present in the space, to gradually die down, like the crowd holds their collective breath. In the eerie silence, the tap of her footsteps down the stairs echoes, and everyone watches her every move intently. The pressure of these looks forces her head down, and she concentrates on walking as normally as possible, trying to get to her seat on the sixth right row counted from the bottom as soon as possible.

"What is that...?"

"Is that a-a flower?"

"Can it... be?"

Then someone shouts loudly from the audience rows: "That's a Corpse Flower! It really is!"

"Ah! It's a miracle!" A lady I pass shouts, her voice wavering by the end of her shout, as she promptly coughs loudly.

"Such rare, exotic flowers in our forest!?"

"Ah, I knew it!"

"Who is she?!"

"The daughter of the Loisleafs, are you daft?"

"W-who? I- mean, right, of course!"

The mention of my surname stops me in my tracks.

I wonder where Dad's sitting. It makes sense he didn't call or come to my house, better to avoid conflict with Flurel but...

I look back, across the adoring, ecstatic eyes. They were once again high on their own produce, complimenting, and jubilating just how great the town and its traditions were. They didn't care about me, just about the flower itself.

Why did I even do this...? I just ended up playing right into their hands... All of these lunatics are just too far gone in their flowery delusions, even a freak of nature like this flower was a treasure to them... I thought I'd be spiting everyone, proving a point, but I just... became one of them, made my parent's dreams true...

I look upward and spot the two rows reserved for Class F student's guardians or guests and I notice Iris' parents. Then, who I think is Daisy's grandpa... and... there's a gap. My parents aren't here...

The double doors are closed with a thud, and I go down the stairs to find my seat before it all starts.

Why... why aren't they here? Even if I hate this, it's still supposed to be my big day...? How could they miss it?

...

How could he miss it? I only told Flurel to fuck off and not come but Dad...

I sit down at the end of the seat row, I hear coughing and gagging around me, and people shuffling away.

Fucking hell! I don't care! I hope I never see either of them again!

I dry my eyes on the back of my palm and catch movement in my peripheral vision. Down the aisle, I spot Sarah doing an exasperated shocked face with both of her hands on her cheeks, pointing above my head, and Emily gives me a thumbs up. Iris also waves my way, stuck further down the seats, and makes me a heart with both of her hands.

Oh, you guys... Thank you.

I lift my head, to look at the stage, my eyes and mind more resolute again.

See? It's fine if my parents aren't here, I don't need them! Everything and everyone I need is already here.

From backstage, Thorndal appears, he holds a microphone in his dignified hand. He saunters to the middle in his black suit, a fluffy brightly purple dianthus sprouting out of his chest pocket. He is already dressed so finely at work, that he couldn't really up his game, at least, if it wasn't for the resplendent top hat, decorated with vines, real flowers of all kinds that snaked around its towering base, and onto the rim. The applause for him is deafening, he was among the most respected individuals in town, only superseded by the Mayor himself. I didn't clap, I was busy holding out laughter, thinking he only needed a cane in his hand and he'd be ready to be a circus ringmaster. Wait... perhaps he already was in a way, he is the principal of the school after all.