Rose Blossom Read Online Free PDF

kind of. But he liked me...He had kissed me, more than once, the night before.
                  As I descended I could hear low murmured words from the kitchen and the thought of breakfast, Julian and talking to my parents made my heart jump a bit, just a brief stutter really, nothing to be worried about, but almost in time with the hiccup of the beat, all noise in the kitchen stopped. Before I could reach the first floor, Julian was standing there, looking at me with a mixture of worry and amusement on his face. His bright blue eyes seemed clearer than ever and I could not tear my own gaze from him.
                  "Good morning, or should I say 'good afternoon' " he said, voice low and somewhat amused.
                  I froze, completely horrified. Julian was already in my house! And I looked the worst I ever looked, frizzed out in pumpkin pajamas, my breath probably more than foul and my parents were in the kitchen! I could feel my eyes widen and my heartbeat speed up. Julian looked alarmed and reached out a hand to touch my shoulder.
                  "Calm down Rose, breathe, I'm sorry I startled you.  I had a hard time waiting for you to wake up," I could smell his breath, his scent the same from the night before like sugared roses surrounding me until I could barely think straight.
                  "Julian, why don’t you give her a few minutes to go change and brush her hair," my father's voice entered the cocoon we had found ourselves in. My eyes broke from Julian's mesmerizing ones and flew to my father's face. He looked a little strained but smiled at me. I turned and dashed up the stairs, just before my door slammed I heard my father yell, "DON’T RUN!"
                  Gasping, I fell onto my bed, my hand touching my throat, I could feel the beat of my heart under my fingers. As my body came back to normal, I tried to go through my wardrobe mentally and decide what to wear. I really needed to beg my mother to let me go shopping with Mel, my wardrobe was very limited; jeans, a few long skirts, tank tops and T-shirts.
                  Finally, I stood up, slowly, my chest aching a little from the mad dash up the stairs; there was an angry flush to my cheeks as I looked across the room into my mirror. The same angry flush that Mel told me appeared two to four times every day. I was almost always angry at not being able to do something like a normal girl.
                  I walked over to my closet and opened it up; it was Saturday and on the weekends I liked to dress for comfort so I pondered how to do so while also giving off some semblance of cute at the same time. I finally chose an A line dark denim skirt that went to the floor, almost covering my pale wide feet. I hated my feet, much too large to belong to a girl my height. Then I pulled on a black cotton tank top that allowed a little of the red lace of my bra to show in the front. Not tacky but in style and something my mother actually found acceptable. This came as quite a shock, especially since she was the one who originally suggested it.
                  I opened my door quietly and listened for sounds: I could hear the murmur of conversation going on in the living room and figured I was safe. To get to the upstairs bathroom I had to walk close enough to the railings that I could be seen from downstairs at the right angle. I didn’t want Julian to see me again before I was ready. Tiptoeing, I moved along the wall to the bathroom, opened the door without a creak, and slipped inside. I left the door ajar so I could hear if the voices turned into an argument, still afraid any moment my parents would flip and send Julian packing.
                  I had just finished dowsing my hair with water until it was shiny when there was a light knock on the bathroom door; I turned in time to watch it open all the way.
                  Mom stood,