# Garden Of Rosa Chapter 6

Garden of Rosa
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Chapter 6
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That bitch.
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THAT BITCH!
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How could Trish do something like this?! I know she hated me, was jealous of all the time I spent with Fang, but this…?! Where did she even get those pictures of me? Just when things were looking up, Trish has to go and pull a stunt like that!
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Thoughts of human-on-trigger violence fly through my head as Fang and Reed escort me to Spears’ office. Fang still has her arms around me, her wings held half-out to shelter me from the shame. Reed’s sneakers echo though the empty halls as he trails after us, a look of concern on his face. For once, he doesn’t seem the least bit high, either. I don’t know if I can trust Reed’s story, that Trish got the slides from Naomi and inserted my cringy ‘arm-in-arm with an anime girl’ pictures, but for now I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. For some reason, what Rosa’s mom said to me keeps echoing in my mind, dissolving the anger I desperately wanted to lash out with. It would be easy, to snap at Reed, to call Trish a purple cunt to her face, but I know I can’t; I couldn’t do that to Rosa.
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Damnit, I wish Rosa was here. Her and Stella got to the auditorium late, and the seats next to Fang and I already filled up by the time the two of them arrived. Rosa would know what to say, how to dispel the anger welling up inside of me. God, how I want to just sink into Rosa’s loving arms, feel her chest rise and fall as she cradles me to her chest…
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Nice work Anon, thinking of Rosa even while Fang is sheltering you like a baby. Real class act.
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…Ugh, how do I even begin to explain this to Rosa?
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***
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The conversation with Trish in Spears’ office wasn’t as painful as I expected. Just looking at that triceratrollop made my blood boil, but I forced myself to stay and face her, to talk to her, trying to get her to understand that I didn’t want to cause a rift in her friend group, that I just wanted to be Fang’s friend, and hers too. Trish mumbled an apology to me as I turned to leave, stopping me dead in my tracks. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one trying to be the bigger man.
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We resolve to wait for Trish outside Spears’ office, Fang, Reed and I. Fang still had some unspoken things to say to her, and truth be told I did as well. As we crouch down on the floor outside the office, Fang slowly pulls my head onto her shoulder, throwing her arm around me once more. I’m too tired to protest at this point, and to tell the truth it feels nice, being held by Fang. Old feelings, feelings I’ve thought were long-dead start to rise within me as I sit there, resting my head on Fang’s bony shoulder, watching Rosa as she runs down the hall at me…
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Wait.
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FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.
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I stand up at once, pushing Fang’s arm off my shoulder roughly. The hurt look Fang gives me as Rosa pulls me into a tight embrace cuts deeply. Rosa is murmuring into my shoulder, a rapid burst of Spanish quickly giving way to something I actually understand.
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“An-on! Oh thank goodness you’re still here! I had to get away from class, had to make sure mi novio is okay…” I can hear the beginnings of a sob in Rosa’s voice. Pulling her face-to-face, I give her my best reassuring smile.
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“Rosa, I’m okay. Well, at least I think I will be…” I can see the look in Rosa’s eye as her gaze flickers towards Fang, full of righteous indignation and not a little bit of jealousy. Fang matches her glare-for-glare, her amber eyes narrowing as her wings begin to bristle. Hoping to dissuade any future fighting, I step between the two women, taking Rosa’s hand in mine. “Look, Rosa, Fang and Reed had nothing to do with this. In fact, they helped me see why Trish did what she did. And what Trish did was shitty, but it’s important you forgive her, okay? For me, for your novio?” Rosa hesitates for a moment, the rage that was building in her soft crimson eyes slowly fading. Finally, Rosa sighs, nodding her head and giving my hand a squeeze. She steps around me, towards Fang, Fang slowly getting to her feet.
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For an instant I think Rosa still means to lash out at Fang, but then Rosa pulls Fang into a hug as well, burying her face in Fang’s chest as the ptero woman giving me a confused look. “Fang, I am so sorry, for thinking you had anything to do with this. I just know you and Trish are friends, and I let my anger get away from me. ¿Amigas?” Rosa doesn’t release her arms from around Fang, possibly preparing to suplex her if she doesn’t agree.
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Fang hesitates a moment before answering, her face darkening. Fang’s amber eyes catch mine for a moment, her eyes pleading like a drowning man search for a lifeline. For a second I stare at her, not understanding, before it hits me.
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Fang’s arm around my shoulder as we waited.
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Fang’s attempts at studying together.
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Fang’s glances my way in class, the way her hands would brush against mine, and a thousand other small, furtive things she did, each a little reflection of the things Rosa and I shared.
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Fang likes me.
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Fang’s eyes ask a question over Rosa’s head that, one she already knows the answer to but hopes I will say something to keep the question alive, to keep her hopes alive.
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I’m sorry, Fang.
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I shake my head slightly, a sad smile crossing my face. Fang’s face falls, a look of dejected understanding filling her face. Slowly, her arms raise to return Rosa’s hug, albeit briefly. I knew her words were meant for me as much as they were for Rosa.
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“Friends, Rosa. Just friends.”
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Rosa released her hug, glancing up at Fang with a confused expression. She was interrupted by the sound of Spears’ office door opening, a dejected and tear-stained Trish shyly keeping her face to the floor. Rosa’s face erupts with rage once more, a string of Spanish expletives flooding out of her mouth as she half-lunges towards the smaller woman.
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“¡Perra! ¡Cómo te atreves! Cuando te ponga las manos encima…”
Trish cowers back, her face a mask of pure terror. As much for Rosa’s sake as Trish’s, I step between the two women, my hands held up.
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“Rosa, please! This is something we need to talk about, together. Can you wait for us to finish before ripping Trish’s head off?”
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Rosa stands there fuming, her eyes shooting daggers at Trish. Glancing back, I can see Trish starting to cry once more, her hands withdrawing into the sleeves of her hoodie as she scrubs her eyes. I can’t help but feel sorry for her.
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Well, only a little bit.
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“…Fine. An-on, I’ll wait for you by the exit while you talk.” Rosa storms off, not before raising a threatening fist at Trish. The sound of sandals on the floor is the only noise left, the four of us standing around in silence. For a while, Fang just stares at Trish, before she eventually breaks the ice.
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“…Why?”
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***
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The catharsis of talking with Trish faded quickly as I left to meet up with Rosa. Admitting that Fang was just a friend, that I didn’t have feelings for her in that way, had hurt a lot, but in a way I was glad I got to talk to Trish about it. Knowing I wasn’t going to try and take Fang away from her seemed to mellow Trish out a bit, and she even managed to give me a hug around the waist as we said our goodbyes. Fang had already left by then, saying she wanted to take a break from the band, just to clear the air between her and Trish. I don’t think I could’ve handled crushing on Fang’s hopes a second time today.
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Gritting my teeth, I manage to keep my head down as I walk through the halls, ignoring the jeers and laughter of the students. Clearly news has spread throughout the lower classmen, and I shoulder the front door open amid calls of “Weeb!” and “Loser!”. Rosa is waiting for me a the entrance, her eyes brimming with concern as she pulls me into another hug.
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“Aww, An-on, it will be okay. Do you want me to take you home?” The idea of wallowing in my shitty apartment alone doesn’t appeal to me. Nothing waits for me there except video games and my usual Bolivian papier-mâché crafting newsletter, neither of which have been holding my interest of late.
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“Maybe we could talk a walk or something, Rosa. I just wanna be somewhere with you right now, and-“
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“HEY LOSER, THINK FAST!”
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My words are cut off by a shout. Turning towards the voice, a soda can fills my vision, and before I can react the can smacks me in the forehead, causing me to lose my already poor balance and tumble down the front steps of Volcano High.
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…
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Ow.
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“AN-ON! Mi novio, are you hurt?! Can you stand? ¡Ay, Cómo se atreven esas pequeñas mierdas!” Rosa helps me to my feet, and I wince at the pain in my, well, everything. “Can you walk? Should I call an ambulance?”
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I try to put on my best cool-guy face, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My lungs feel like they are about to explode. “I’m… I’m okay Rosa, I can walk.” I try to take a step and legs collapsing quickly underneath me, new pain blossoming across my body as I once again take a concrete nap. “Fuck!”
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“¡Oh Dios mío! An-on, please, you are too hurt to walk. Let me help you over here, you can wait while I bring my car around.” Rosa helps me to my feet once more, throwing my arm across her strong shoulders as she half-carries me to a nearby bench. Once again I’m glad for Rosa’s strength as I sit unsteadily down on the cold wood. “I’ll be just a second, okay mi novio?” I nod, wincing in pain. Rosa plants a tender kiss on my forehead before rushing off towards the school parking lot.
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Alone with my thoughts waiting for Rosa to bring her car around, my mind keeps replaying the look Fang gave me in the hall. Again and again I run through it: The pleading in her eyes, just how devastated she looked when I shook my head. Is Fang going to be okay seeing me again? She hardly looked in my direction when she was talking to Trish, and left before I could say anything to her. I would hate myself if I was the one who broke our friendship apart, and Fang does mean a lot to me. Am I a jerk for letting her down like that? Not for the first time today, I wish I had never met Fang and the gang, that I had just kept my head down and coasted through to graduation.
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But then I would never have been with Rosa. Is that what I want?
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…
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No. Despite everything that’s happened, all the awkwardness between Fang and I, all of Trish’s vitriol, all the physical pain I’m in right now, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
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The sound of an approaching car interrupts my inner monologue, and seconds later I see Rosa pull up to the curb in her familiar ride. Rosa helps me make it to the passenger seat, even buckling my seatbelt for me when the pain of twisting down into the car proved too much for me to handle. Before long we were on the road, each pothole and bump in the road radiating pain up and down my body. But something was off: This wasn’t the way to the address I had given Rosa in the past, the fake home I had invented to hide the shame of Skin Row from her.
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“Uh, Rosa, this isn’t the way to my place…”
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“Of course not, An-on. I’m taking you to my house, where I can nurse you to health properly!” I can tell from Rosa’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the stopsign she just ran that she’s nervous, barely holding it together. In some ways, watching me hurt might be hurting her more.
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“Is, uh, your mom going to be home, or are we…” I let my words trail off.
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Rosa shoots me a nervous smile. “No, just us, An-on.”
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I try telling myself the butterflies in my stomach are just a result of my injuries.
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The rest of the trip out to Rosa’s house pass by in relative silence, save for my involuntary curses at each bump on the road and Rosa’s muttered apologies. As we approach her house, I can see distant figures in the fields stretching around her home, laboring in the sun. Mercifully, Rosa slows down when she hits the rough gravel of the drive; I’m not sure my bruises could’ve taken hitting that road at the speed Rosa was going. One bends up, tracking the car as it pulls into the open-air garage.
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“Umm, Rosa, do your brothers know I’ll be over?”
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“Si, si. I texted them when I was getting the car.” Rosa moves quickly to help me out of the car, once again supporting my weight as we limp to the front door. “Don’t worry, mi novio, I’ve covered for them plenty of times they brought a girl home without Papi or Mama knowing. They won’t bother us.” Something in her words makes Rosa blush, some unspoken implication of just what her brothers were doing with those girls they brought home.
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The house is quiet as we shuffle through the front door. The doorway isn’t big enough for both of us to walk abreast, so Rosa walks backwards as she holds me up, our backpacks discarded in the entryway. There’s no enticing smells emanating from the kitchen down the hall this time, a sure sign Rosa’s mom isn’t home. Slowly, Rosa leads me down the hall, past the dining room from the other day, to a room at the end of the hall. Opening the door behind her, Rosa guides me inside, the lights illuminating her room. A small writing desk sits underneath the window, opposite a bed sporting a homemade-looking quilt with a not-insubstantial amount of clothes pile on top. Pictures dot the walls even here; framed photos of her family sitting side-by-side with polaroid snapshots of her and Stella. A large crucifix hangs above the head of the bed, a colored depiction of Raptor Jesus on his cross of rock.
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Rosa leaves me lingering in the doorway briefly to scoop up the clothes off the bed, carelessly discarding them into a hamper in the closet. “Sorry for the mess, An-on. Please, please, come here.” Her gentle hands guide me to the bed, easing me onto the soft mattress. It feels like sitting on a cloud, compared to my bed at home. “Sit down, nice and easy, there we go. You just relax, An-on; I’ll go get the medicine kit in the meantime.” Rosa gives my hand a squeeze before heading back into the hallway, leaving me alone.
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In her room.
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In my girlfriend’s room. On her bed.
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With no parents in the house.
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I try to quiet the alarms in my head and the butterflies in my stomach by glancing around the room. It’s nice to see this side of Rosa; nice to see that underneath the beautiful, caring exterior, Rosa is just as much of a messy teenager as I am. Something pokes me in the ass as I shift my weight on the bed, causing me to shift uncomfortably. Fishing it out, I discover it’s a piece of clothing Rosa missed; namely, a massive lacy bra, red flowers sew carefully onto the black silk cups.
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Jesus, I knew they were big, but damn…
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“Alright, mi novio, let’s see how bad you-“ Rosa shuts the door to her room with her hip, a small white plastic medicine kit and a series of creams and poultices in her hands. Her face goes beet-red as she sees me sitting there, holding her unmentionable in my hands. Tossing the first-aid supplies quickly onto the nightstand, Rosa snatches the bra out of my hands, a flustered look on her face. “T-that’s not something you were supposed to see yet. No, wait, I didn’t mean it that way! ¡Ay, cállate An-on!” Hiding her bra behind her back, Rosa waggles a finger in my face to stymie my laughter before shoving her bra in the closet. The laughter might hurt, but it’s worth it.
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…Okay, not worth it…
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Ow.
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“An-on, you must not hurt yourself like that! Come, her, take your shirt off and lie down.” Rosa pats the bed as she sits on the edge, opening a jar of foul-smelling cream. Slowly, I pull my shirt over my head, reddening slightly as my skeleton-bod is on full display. At least my time spent gardening has given me some functional strength… I lie down on my stomach, Rosa hovering somewhere over my back. Rosa whistles softly, and I can feel her hands hovering over my body.
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“Oh, you poor chico! These look quite bad An-on…” A cold sensation spreads across one of my bruises, along with a shooting pain. I wince, cursing in spite of myself.
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“God damnit, ow!” From this angle, I can barely make out the figure of Raptor Jesus staring down at me, no doubt disappointed at my blasphemy.
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“Sorry, sorry! I will try and be more careful, An-on…” Rosa’s touch softens, and soon she finds the right amount of pressure to apply; not enough to cause me to flinch, but enough to work the soothing ointment into my aching wounds. The balm beings to warm, slowly draining the aches and pains out of my screaming muscles. No longer clenching my teeth, I relax, eyes slowly closing. Rosa’s fingers feel nice as they trace the outline of each of my bruises, her fingers softly stroking my back. As my eyes finally close, I realize Rosa has begun to sing, a soothing Spanish tune evoking memories of when I was a kid, my own mom singing me to sleep. I can’t understand the words, but I don’t need to to understand what the song is: A melodic lullaby sung in time with her messaging fingers, full of compassion and love and kindness, meant to ease my aching soul. I don’t dare interrupt, content simply to let Rosa finish her song, feeling the pain of my injuries fade. When she does finish, neither of us say anything, Rosa’s fingers still tracing idly across my skin.
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“That was beautiful, Rosa.” My voice is slow and soft, lulled into a trace as much by Rosa’s song as by the soothing ointment.
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“It was the song Mama used to sing when… I was a little girl. She used to hold me in her arms and rock me to sleep whenever I was scared or in pain. It made me feel…safe.” Rosa’s voice sounds husky, as if she is fighting back tears. The bed shifts slightly behind me. “Turn over, An-on. I need to see your front.”
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My eyes slowly pull open as I roll over onto my back. Rosa sits back down, her legs straddling my groin on either side as she lowers herself down to my chest. Her hair cascades down, framing her face perfect amid those auburn curls. Something shines in her eyes, a look I haven’t seen before. We’ve been this close to one another before, but something about this is…different, more intimate somehow, like the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of us, together. Rosa begins tracing the wounds on my chest, and I can really smell the foul scent of the cream now. I can smell something else as well; Rosa’s scent fills my head, an intoxicating aroma and I want to lean into.
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“Not this time, mi amor. Just sit back.” Rosa gently presses my chest back down, careful not to put any pressure on my bruises. I can feel her tail slowly curl itself around my leg, feel the weight of her body right on my crotch. Slowly, shifting slightly on my legs to hook her hands beneath her dress, Rosa begins pulling it over her head. Her eyes never leave mine as the dress is raised, slowly revealing a pair of green-and-white panties. Rosa’s body has a slight pudge, just the right amount of thickness really; a white patch running ventrally down her front perfectly frames her cleavage and navel, and more besides. As the dress travels further up her body, Rosa’s ample breasts plop free, barely contained in a silky, floral-patterned bra that matches her bottoms. Rosa pulls the dress higher, momentarily hiding her face before it goes up and over her head. Finally free, Rosa tosses the dress to the floor, slowly shaking out her hair as she fixes me with a smoldering stare.
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By god, I’ve never been so erect.
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Slowly, Rosa resumes rubbing my chest, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on each splotchy bruise as she does so. I’m utterly transfixed by the sight of her body, my mouth handing slightly open as Rosa plants kisses further up my chest. I don’t even care about my aching muscles anymore, the pain totally dispelled by the sexy, gorgeous woman sitting on my lap. Each time I try to rise, try to meet Rosa’s lips in a true kiss, she pushes me back gently, until at last her face is hovering directly above mine. Rosa balances carefully, arms on either side of me, legs still grinding against my lower body, tail wrapped sensually up my leg.
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Slowly, Rosa leans down, plating a long kiss on my right cheek. “This,” she says, “is forgiving Trish.” I can feel her hot breath as she travels over to my left cheek. “This,” she whispers, “is for letting me forgive her, as well.” Rosa’s lips are nearly touching my own now, her hands somehow having been transferred to my face without disturbing my bruises. “And this, An-on.” Her lips neatly press into mine for a moment before pulling back. “This is for the one I love.”
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This time, Rosa doesn’t press me back down.