Kevin’s thick black hair clung to his olive skin, heavy with sweat.  Soil smeared across his forehead as he pushed his hair from his eyes with a gloved hand.  Exhausted, he threw himself on his couch, his head lolling back over the armrest.  Empty space surrounded him, and he thought briefly that it might be nice to have a television set.  But he hated useless noise, and he had a gardening obsession to support. Kevin shut his eyes, lulled by his own even breathing, but the calm shattered when the phone rang.

He dragged himself to the counter, hoping his voice alone would frighten off the caller.

“Kevin, are you alright?  You sound a bit dead,” his mother said, matter-of-factly.

“I was gardening…and it’s over ninety degrees outside.”

“Botany is a perfectly respectable aspiration, but really…the way you love those flowers, I’m surprised more people don’t suspect things about you.”

“Actually it’s about eighty in my apartment, too.”

“I mean, it’s not like anyone’s ever seen you with a girlfriend.”

“Mom, do you need something?” Kevin resisted the urge to hang up before she could reply.

“Can’t a mother call to check on her own son?” she said.

“Well, I’m fine.”

“How are your classes?”

“Fine.”

“How about your friends?  How’s that one boy, you know, Joseph?  How’s he?”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Mom.  We don’t really get to see each other much.  Organic Chem takes up most of his time.”

“I wish you’d be more outgoing, Kevin.”

Kevin resigned himself to the familiar lecture as his mother informed him that he was meant to have new experiences in college, and part of that was meeting new people.  She never understood why he remained in a constant shell.  Kevin could never quite explain it to her or even to himself.  He had a repository of excuses.  The morning after his twelfth birthday, his father woke up, packed a bag and never came back.  His teachers ignored him because he never talked, despite always receiving good grades.  Every kindergarten recess of his life was spent picking buttercups (he didn’t know they were weeds then) and watching the other kids play kickball.  He was an only child.  His mother sheltered him.  Kevin thought these answers were too easy.

He waited patiently until she finished and then said, “I know, Mom.  I’ll try harder.”

“Honey, I just want you to be happy.”

“I know.”

“Anyway, I called to say that I sent you a bit of money.  I had some leftover from the budget this month.  It’s not much, but maybe you can use it to spruce up that dreadful apartment of yours.  Buy a TV or something.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he said. “Really.  But, um, I need to shower…”

“Oh, okay. I’ll let you go,” she said. “Have a good day.  I love you.”

“You too.  I love you too.”

He hung up.

Kevin relaxed in bed after the shower, soaking his pillow with his hair as two fans spun on either side of him.  He listened to a tape of meditation music as he pondered what to do with the money.  Maybe he would buy another fan.  Most of the last check, sent seven months ago, disappeared into buying plant food and seeds, with enough remaining for the tape he was listening to now.  Kevin appreciated the help, irregular though it was.  The money he earned from his many temp jobs went for basic expenses, although he tried to save a portion of each paycheck.  He hoped for a car eventually, but he suspected his willpower would fail before then.  A charity would receive his savings after he convinced himself he did not really need a car.  Or, at the very least, he would invest it in his garden.  Too bad he couldn’t just buy more earth to work with.

With that image in mind, he fell asleep, dreaming of flowers and ponds blanketed in water lilies.

Kevin attended a public college, partly because of the scholarship it awarded him and partly because he liked blending in with the masses.  In class, Kevin arrived early and sat in the back, taking meticulous notes on the interesting parts of the lecture.  None of his professors expected discussion often, which he liked fine.

Notes from the lecture in his Religions of the World class filled his binder quickly that day.  This particular course produced ambivalent feelings in him, since it sometimes called for his verbal participation.  Today professor simply talked for the hour, sparing Kevin the sound of his or any other classmate’s voice.  Kevin scratched a few more notes onto his paper as the class ended.  The students began noisily stuffing notebooks into bookbags and pushing in chairs, shortly emptying the room.  He paused as he started to slide the paper into his satchel, his eyes catching the one other person left.

“Hey,” Sarah said, and smiled.  Sarah was almost always smiling.  Kevin thought no one could really be that happy, and he sometimes spent the boring bits of the lecture imagining what trauma she was trying to hide.  She talked the most when discussion was called for, in a clear, confident voice.  He didn’t answer her, assuming there was a third person there he couldn’t see.

“Hey, hello,” she said again. “Talking to you.”

“Oh,” Kevin said. “Sorry.”  He snapped the satchel shut.  His fingers lingered over the clasp for a minute, and then he slung it hastily over his back. He muttered, “I have to go,” and left her where she stood, still smiling.

He stared at the students climbing into their cars while he waited for the bus.  As he trudged up the steps to find a seat, he told himself that Sarah was just being polite.  Kevin reviewed the exchange in his mind as he stared out the window.  Guilt nagged him for his rudeness, joined by a small, bitter voice that suggested it requires friendliness to make friends.

At his apartment, he dropped his bag on the floor and took the phone receiver from its cradle.  He dialed the operator and asked for Sarah’s number, which he wrote down.

But his roses were looking a little droopy, so he watered the plants.  Then he was hungry.   Sarah’s number pricked at the back of his mind.  Kevin drank a bowl of soup to fill his stomach and stared at the number on his notepad, willing the numbers to dial themselves.  His fingers feared the task.

On the floor beside him, his satchel hung open invitingly.  Thinking that it was better to have phone conversations after homework, he pulled out his books.

The hands on Kevin’s watch climbed steadily until he looked down and saw that it was ten thirty.  He dropped his pencil, but approached the phone warily.  He dialed the first three numbers, imagining he could hear his heart beating on the other end of the line.

Kevin hovered over the keypad, unable to punch in the remaining numbers.  The recording said, “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again.”

He replaced the phone. Ten thirty (now ten forty five) was too late to be calling a stranger, anyway.   Better to apologize in person, he thought.

Kevin waited until after class, catching up to Sarah as she left the room.

“Hey,” he said, too softly.  She didn’t turn around.

He tried again. “Hey, Sarah.”

She turned her head and stopped walking. “Oh, hi, Kevin!”

“H-hey,” he said, feeling redundant. “Um.”

Kevin’s nerve was ebbing.  His legs willed him to run, or at least walk away hastily.

“That is…” he said. “Sorry.”

“What for?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Yesterday,” Kevin said.  He attempted a telepathic plea for understanding.

“Oh,” Sarah said, “No reason to apologize for that. You had to go.”

“Eh,” Kevin said. “Right.”

“Anyway, I didn’t really have anything important to talk about,” she said. “I was just going to compliment the flowers you drew all over your notes.”

“Er,” Kevin said, trying to detect her sarcasm and finding none.

“I think they’re pretty,” she went on, “though, admittedly, I don’t know many guys who do that.”

“I just like to garden,” he muttered. “A lot.”

“Really?” she said. “You have a garden?”

“A little one.”

“Could I see it sometime?”

 Kevin balked.  Seeing his reluctance, Sarah muttered, “Or maybe not…”

 “Sorry,” he said, not knowing what to do.  He sensed that he had offended her, but at the same time he couldn’t yet imagine
bringing her to his apartment, much less showing her his garden. “I guess I’d better go again.”

 “Damn,” she said. “Are you always this frustrating?”

 He hesitated, but he had nothing to counter her, so he shrugged helplessly. “Yes?”

Sarah rolled her eyes and walked off in the other direction.

Kevin hated to admit it, but most of his social interactions paralleled his conversation with Sarah.  In eighth grade, Kevin spent his recesses wandering the woods behind his school and while the other kids played dodgeball without him.  He liked to pull the honeysuckle flowers off the bushes and drink the nectar, a popular practice.  He easily found the best blossoms, a talent that did not go unnoticed by his classmates.  One girl in particular often sidled up to him, asking for help in picking the fattest flowers.  She ignored him in every other respect, but Kevin didn’t let that stop him from asking her to the dance at the year’s end, the first dance of their lives.  She had kind of giggled at him in response, her mouth bright yellow from the dust of the honeysuckle.  It was as though she found him sweetly pathetic.  In retrospect, he couldn’t figure out what possessed him to be so stupid, seeing a bond between them that just didn’t exist.

He’d learned that kindness doesn’t always equal a desire for friendship.  More than likely it just meant someone wanted something.
The phone started ringing as he fit his key into the lock.  He shoved open the door and dropped his bag on the threshold, stumbling over it to reach the phone.

“H-hello?” he breathed, half bent over the counter.

“Hi, honey,” his mother answered.

Kevin gulped air. “Oh, it’s you.”

“I love you too.”

“No, that’s not what I meant… it’s just that…”

Christ, he was offending everyone today.

“Are you expecting a call?”

“No!”

“You haven’t met someone you’re not telling me about, have you?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, well.  A mother can dream.”

“Mom…”

“Anyway, I was just calling to say hello…see how your day was.”

“It was alright.”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Uh… well…”

“And I don’t mean gardening.”

“That’d be a no, then.”

“I thought you said you were going to be more social, Kevin.”

He thought of Sarah, and answered in an aggravated tone, “I said that yesterday.  You’ve got to give me some time.”

“Well, if you’re going to talk like that I’ll just hang up.”

“Don’t do that, Mom.  I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean to pressure you.  I just want you to have some fun.”

“Thanks Mom.  I appreciate your concern.”

Kevin managed to avoid mentioning Sarah for the rest of the call.  He knew it would only excite his mother unnecessarily, and probably provoke a lecture on how he should call her right away besides.  Even after his father left, his mother still clung to the idea that people were generally well intentioned.  She hadn’t dated in nine years, as if she were still waiting for him to come back.  Her naivete frustrated Kevin sometimes.

Clouds swallowed the sun the next day, casting early shadows over the gothic buildings on Kevin’s campus.  A cool wind swirled around his feet, upsetting the leaves, as he walked across the center of campus.  He set his bag on a bench outside the cafeteria and opened a book to read while he waited for lunch to start.

“Nice atmosphere, huh?” Sarah said.  Kevin dropped his book, startled by her sudden presence.

“You’re a little tense.  You should relax,” she grinned.

“Thanks for the advice,” he grumbled, feeling foolish as he retrieved the book.

“Maybe Prozac would help too.”

He glowered at her.

“Daaaamn,” she said. “Put away the daggers.”

“Look,” he muttered, “I’m sorry I was rude to you.”

“No big deal,” she said, “let’s have lunch together.”

“What?” he blinked.

Sarah was already picking up his bag.  “Come on, I have class in an hour.”

“What is this?” Kevin reached for his bag, and she jumped away from his hand, onto the cafeteria steps.  Sarah held open one of the double doors and gestured with a flourish. “It’s lunchtime.”

Kevin exhaled, wondering what he had done to deserve this.  He went inside warily, and she followed, handing him his bag.  She pointed to a table and said, “We’re going to sit there, okay?”

“Yes, master.”

“Now you’ve got it.”

Most of the time Kevin sought out the emptiest table and ate alone.  He considered doing this regardless of Sarah, but he reasoned that she would probably just follow him.  Besides, he wanted to know what she wanted from him.  So he piled a few plates of spaghetti and brownies onto his tray and carried it to the designated table.

“There now,” Sarah said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He bit into a brownie and didn’t answer.

“So, how was your day?”

“Eh.” Kevin took his fork and stabbed the spaghetti.

“Fascinating.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” she said innocently.

“Don’t play stupid,” he muttered.

“Can’t two friends have lunch together?”

“I hardly know you.  We’ve barely spoken.”

“And that’s a damn shame.”

Kevin slurped up the last spaghetti noodle. “I’m done.”

“You eat fast,” Sarah said, impressed.

“Yep.” He started to get up.

“Hey, wait a second.”

“Why?”

“Do you have a class or something?”

“No,” Kevin said, “I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

He had to look away from the obvious hurt on her face.

“Well… jeez,” she said.  She set her head on her knuckles. “I suck.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, hesitating.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” her voice was softer now.

“You didn’t bother me,” he lied, his voice pained. “Come on, don’t look like that.  Look like you were before.”

She smiled into her hands. “Now you’re just lying to me.”

“Only because I care,” he said, trying to joke.

She got up. “It’s okay.  I have to go to class now anyway.”

They put up their trays without saying a word.

“I’ll see you in class,” she said.

“Yeah…” Kevin said.  He knew he should say more, but he just couldn’t find the words. “I’ll see you.”

She left, and he returned to the bench, feeling like an ass.  Kevin had never thought of himself as a bad person.  An anti-social person, maybe, but never a bad person.  Certainly not a person that went around hurting anyone.  But then, it wasn’t as if he ever talked to very many people anyway.  In high school, Kevin sat with a few guys at lunch and worked with them for group projects, but he never went to parties and rarely asked anyone over.  Whenever anyone did ask him to do something, he would refuse, until finally they just stopped asking.  Kevin tried to avoid even looking at girls.  He hardly knew how to talk to his peers, forget girls, with their perfume and makeup and breasts.

Clearly, college had not matured him much beyond that line of thinking.

He went home hating himself, and continued hating himself while he fed his flowers and then drank another can of soup.  That night, he stared at the ceiling, thinking of Sarah’s expression, and hated himself even more.

Kevin kept his eyes on his paper in class the next day, not wanting to risk raising his head and seeing Sarah’s face.  He wanted to apologize to her, but another half hearted ‘sorry’ felt inadequate.  So instead he just ignored her and hastily left the class as soon as they were dismissed.

“Smooth one, ace,” he thought as he walked out.

“Don’t think you can get away with that,” Sarah grabbed him by the shoulder, and he stumbled.

“Ack!  Hey!”

“Hey yourself,” she said. “Seriously, what’s the matter with you?”

“Some girl keeps harassing me,” he said through grit teeth and without thinking.  She released him, and he saw that same look of hurt.

“Oh God,” he said out loud, “not that again.”

“Not what?” she sniffed, and her skin started reddening.

“Shit,” he thought, “is she going to cry?”

“Don’t cry,” he said.

“I’m not going to cry over you,” she snapped. “You jerk.”

“H-hey now,” he said, “I’m not a jerk…I’m… not very good at talking to people, that’s all.”

“Understatement of the year,” she mumbled.

“I guess I deserved that…” Kevin said.  He sighed. “How can I make it up to you?”

“I want to see your garden,” she said, smiling again.

“Why do you want to see it so much?” he said. “It’s really just a little square.  It’s nothing.”

“Why do you want me to not see it?” she said.

“I… because…” he muttered. “I don’t know.”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably.  She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.  If it means that much to you, I won’t push it.”

Her eyes were downcast.  He couldn’t stand it.

“Sarah, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, but her voice was strained.

“You’d have to endure public transportation…”

“Huh?”

“If you came to my place.  I take the bus.”

“Public transportation is fine.”

“Well…” Kevin turned away from her, wondering if he was doing the right thing. “Come on then.”

Kevin’s doorknob felt like ice against his skin, and it turned with difficulty.  He wanted to blindfold Sarah until they reached the backyard.

“I can definitely tell a Buddhist lives here,” Sarah said.  At first he was surprised that she remembered his religion, and then he pursed his lips. Was she making fun of him?

“I suppose,” he said gruffly.

“Why don’t you live on campus?”

“It was more expensive than this apartment.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it.”

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting soft, reddish light on the flowers.  Kevin and Sarah’s shadows glowed against the brown earth as they stood by the tight, neat rows of tulips, violets and roses.  The two were in perfect contrast to each other: Sarah, with her white curves, pale eyes and straight blonde hair against Kevin’s thin, olive-skinned body and dark Greek curls.

Sarah knelt by the flowers. “They’re beautiful.  Thanks for showing this to me.”

“Thank you,” he blushed.   He had done the right thing.

They sat on the ground, not minding the dirt that clung to their clothes, and watched the sunset.  It was something Kevin did often, by himself.

He decided that he liked having someone next to him.