That morning, through which the sun rolled through the misty clouds above the neighborhood and across the pink and purple sky, which blossomed into blue, in the classroom; Petunia ran across the green and cream-colored yellow tiled floor, to the potted plant, one out of three standing against the orange-painted wall. She stood on her toes and reached for the purple and green hard plastic watering can that stood atop the shelf. Her fingers get barely grasped it by the handle.
From behind her, Carey yelled at her, voice squeaking: "No! It's my turn to water it!!" Petunia huffed, "Turns don't matter in the mornings, just as long as the plant gets fed and watered properly!" "I don't care about that!" whined Carey, as she snatched the watering can from Petunia's fingers. Petunia gasped silently as she reached back for the handle. "It's my turn," Carey snapped, "you can't take it away from me! And no one likes you!" Petunia bit her lip and watched the sunlight flash on the wall, drifting past Carey like her shadow, and hitting the center of a wooden cabinet. Petunia narrowed her eyes… and shifted her gaze back to Carey. Then Petunia huffed and straightened her posture, dusting off the frilly skirt of her pink jumper dress; "Fine, you big baby. But water that plant right! Or else you'll be a horrible gardener and cause the plant to die. …Not that you're any good now, for just being a brat" Petunia sniffed before sauntering off.
Carey watched her leave back to her table, shoulders slouched as she sulked, pouting her pink lips. She lifted the can and tipped the spout against the sunflower's stem, feeling the weight of the water shift as it sprinkled against the green stalk.
***
Thirty two squishy and prepubescent children bobbed up and down in their seats, most of them squealing and giggling. Petunia sat in the left half of the room, closer to the back; upon her desk she wrung her hands together, grinning, looking at the window to her left, through which the sunlight spilled into the room, casting a soft golden haze past the trees outside whose chartreuse leaves glimmered upon being hit. Dozens of pink, yellow, white and purple flowers sprouted from green buds. Between Petunia and the window sat two other children: Avery and Jane, on the other side of the table, in front of the window. Jane had tan skin with curly brunette hair, and Avery had pale skin with fluttery red hair, bleached with sunlight into a rose red--lighter and brighter than Petunia's hair's autumn shade of ruddy crimson. The other two girls scrunched up their noses and glared at her, squinting their eyes. Avery said, "Don't look at us."
Petunia narrowed her eyes as she peered between their shoulders. The sunlight itself squinted into her eyes; "Why not?" She smirked; "I'm looking out the window to see the pretty flowers! And… and the trees--!" Jane puffed out her chest and said, "Well we don't want to see your eyes!" Petunia shrugged and grinned; "Well then, don't look!" "But you get to look?!" squeaked Jane. Avery leaned toward Petunia and spat, "We don't like you!" Petunia smirked and narrowed her eyes; "Yeah, I know." This time, the two girls looked away, their dry visages clouding their eyes, turning back to their printer paper, on which they were coloring in carnation pink, cobalt blue, violet-purple, and a few craggling dashes of marigold orange. Petunia snatched carnation pink from the other side of the table when it was left alone, and in turn, the other two girls scowled at her. She scribbled pink flowers, and Avery said, "You know, that pink was our color!" Petunia scowled as she scribbled in coloring and more flowers, causing the other two to cry out, "You're ruining it!" "It's my favorite color," growled Petunia, "and it's my turn!!"
…Then Petunia put the crayon down, and Jane snatched it. Petunia looked up and pouted; "But what if I need it??" She snatched the purple crayon. "Then you can ask us" snipped Avery before ending in a hissing whisper "nicely…." "Why are you taking crayons from our side?!" cried Jane. "Because," said Petunia, carefully drawing flowers, "they happen to be my favorite right now." "Wh…?!" began Avery, when she caught Jane's eyes, which shifted toward the window; the flowers. "Ugh!!" grumbled Avery; "Didn't you like the trees?! Why don't you choose green?!" "Oh," said Petunia, "I love green… but I even more love pink…! And purple." Jane forced and smile and beckoned her fingers; "I'd like the purple crayon, please." "When I'm done…" said Petunia. "Petunia!" ordered Avery; "Choose another crayon and give someone else a turn!!"
"O.K.," said Petunia, tossing over the violet purple crayon before digging for a yellow one in the basket. And she colored with yellow… and white, which only showed up on the paper due to the sheen… …and the minute hand ticked onto the 10 while the hour hand ticked underneath.
Their teacher, Ms. Averjeng, approached the front of the room, and clapped her hands twice; "O.K., boys and girls," she cooed warmly, "we are going to very politely stand up… put our crayons down…" Petunia's eyes lit up as she smiled and gasped, dropping her white crayon. She bounced up; "It's THURSDAY! That means we get to grow some BEAUTIFUL PLANTS!!" Her classmates burst into giggles as Ms. Averjeng frowned. She put a hand on the bridge of her nose and sighed under her breath; "Yes," she said, "but Petunia. You need to quiet down, first." Petunia smiled and pursed her lips shut, and nodded. Morris stuck his nose up at her, pulling his nostril wider with his finger and thumb, sticking his tongue out. Classmates snickered and gawked as Petunia smiled.
The teacher cleared her throat; "Class. When we're all quiet…" …the giggles petered out, only to remain bubbling here and there, The teacher sighed, leaned against the wall, and said, "I'll wait." She smiled. Many children waited. Petunia held her breath as she drummed on the desk, but as Ms. Averjeng shot her a straight look, Petunia stopped. The giggling finally paused; left on Morris was a straight faced scowl. Ms. Averjeng smiled and said, "Alright, class! I think we're ready. Please quietly stack your things neatly on the tables, stand up, and push in your chairs!" Petunia slid her flower-printed notebook under her folder, stood up, and slid in her chair. The other children did as instructed. "Alright! Line up, boys and girls…"
Boys formed the left line to the light switch and girls formed the right line toward the trashcan, under the protruded United States flag; they faced out the doorway and Ms. Averjeng flicked the lights off. Petunia was toward the back, and Ms. Averjeng held open the door of the students to quietly file out of the classroom. She closed and locked it, and they went down the hall; made a right turn past the windows looking into the sparkling green, pink, orange, yellow, and purple garden, sprinkled with blue and white. Finally, they made a left turn, as Ms. Averjeng pushed open the yellow doors.
Bouncing in the wind and surrounding the children were green leaves, bobbing yellow, pink, and orange marigolds bobbing with them. Bees huddled around yellow stems puffy with pollen as they filled the garden with an omnipresent buzzing. Branches swayed, splashed in the sunlight which spilled from the sky. The delicate yellow and white petals of dainty sunflowers and petite daisies fluttered. Green illuminated leaves rustled. The garden was flooded in the overall sweet floral perfume and the leaves' wet, faintly earthy scent. "Wooooww!!" gasped the children. "It's the GARDEN!!" squealed Petunia, prompting other children to jump and cheer. Morris straightened his posture and his shoulders, crossing his arms and glaring at her… before grinning at their teacher.
Ms. Averjeng giggled, before sucking in her breath as she watched her lines of children scatter. She stood in front of them and said, "Alright, alright! Boys and girls, we need to enter the garden respectfully!" The children quieted down. Ms. Averjeng walked over to Morris and Tyrone, both of whom were at the front of the boys' line; "You see? Like Tyrone and Morris! Such respectful boys." A girl pouted and puffed, puffing out her chest. Petunia raised her hand, grinning. "O-oh, yes, Petunia?" asked Ms. Averjeng; "You have a question?" "Oh," said Petunia, "no, I just wanted to say--" "Not now, Petunia… we need to get in order so that we can start gardening!"