Part 1 ◎ Chapter 1 The Kelly bag

"So you lost your virginity, he broke up with you, and now the whole school knows," Sandra summarized
after I told my pitiful story. "Big deal."

The crisis happened back in my sophomore year, and my three closest friends were gathered in my
bedroom for an emergency intervention. I had declared that I was going to drop out of school, move to
New York and start a career in fashion in order to put all the ugliness behind.

"That's not a big deal?" I sat up from my bed. "Tell me a bigger deal that has happened in your life."

"I'm just saying, what's done is done. Let's focus on the positive here." Her wide-set blue eyes turned a
shade brighter, the way they always did right before she said something she thought clever. "First off, at
least he's not lying. Secondly, there are far worse things to lose than a v-card."

"Such as?"

"Your heart," Carmen chipped in. She transferred here at the beginning of the semester and I
immediately recruited her into our little clique. I figured our gang needed some good virtue, since
Sandra was mean, Janet was cynical, and I was (adorably) vain, but Carmen could be so boring
sometimes. She sounded like a Hallmark card, and I don't mean the funny kind. "And it'd be worse to
lose your confidence. Your faith in love. Your willingness to put yourself out there and-"

I groaned to cut her off just as Janet added, "Or your brand new Kelly bag."

My eyes fell on the ten-thousand-dollar Hermès bag my parents just got me as a sixteen-year-old
birthday present, but partly it was because they felt sorry for me when they heard that Max

dumped me.

That was the way my family dealt with relationship crisis, by the way.

"That really is a gorgeous bag," Sandra said. "Think of all the poor girls out there, who had their hearts
broken without a Kelly to console them."

To be fair I didn't really feel heartbroken. It was more like humiliation. I, Flora Morgan, the master of the
divine art of dating, had been defeated at my own game in the most mortifying way imaginable.

My brother Jeremy always told me that with me, what you see is what you get. I had already put my
best feature out there and saved people the time of exploring. My looks. He said it was the only
interesting thing about me, and mind you, Jeremy was actually the nicer one of my two older brothers.

I knew I was beautiful. All through my childhood years and into the awkward teenagehood, I managed
to escape the oily skin, the sprouting acnes and whatever it was that people battled with. Between my
parents' wealth and my own image, I pretty much always got what I wanted, be it popularity, friends,
special favors, and anything they sold at Neiman Marcus. That doesn't mean I was your stereotypical
mean girl, though; ask anyone and they'd tell you that I was Goodwill Ambassador of Riverside High.

I adored mankind. I liked people and I talked to everyone.

So it wasn't hard to imagine that guys were never much of a problem for me. Even if beauty was the
only interesting thing about me, it sure appeared to be interesting enough. I dated around but never
really settled, and I quickly discovered the fun in switching and...well, sampling.

I got distracted easily whenever a new guy came on the scene, kind of like the way a new eyeshadow
color might catch my attention, and like a new eyeshadow, I always tried them on. Boys are like
breakfast buffet; you want to taste some freshly baked patisserie here and a little bit of cheese omelette
there. You just don't stuff your face with plain toasts alone and call it a morning.

It was so effortless to get them to like me. Most of the time, anyway. Max was a senior and captain of
the football team, and at the time I thought I might as well do it with him because I figured he was as
good as they come. I didn't expect him to broadcast it, though.

He was a bump in the road, a particularly dark time in my prestigious dating career, but I'd always
known that he would be insignificant as he faded out with time.

After all, if they were to make my life into a movie, Max would probably just show up on the cast list at
the bottom, under jerk#2. I knew who I'd cast for the bigger part, although I wasn't sure how the movie
would end yet, so it was either love of my life or the one who got away, depending on the script.

Sean. Sean Foster.

There are two kinds of attraction: the instant kind, where at first sight you feel like you are hit by
something sharp and then you forget how to spell the word crush. And then there's the slow-building
kind, like realizing the obnoxious jerk who has teased you relentlessly since second grade is actually your
prince charming, especially when you see him in a suit for the first time at prom.

With Sean, it was without

dispute he fell into the instant attraction category. He was this seemingly brooding hunk who I
remember catching sight of during the first week of school. Back then, even as a freshman he had this
detached, uninterested expression on his face, like he had an old soul, like he should be opening a bank
vault instead of his locker. He pulled it off by being devastatingly handsome, so that he appeared more
gracefully aloof than antisocial.

"Forget about Max." Sandra switched on the TV and interrupted my thoughts. "At least you still have
Sean."

I didn't have Sean, at least not yet, but a girl can dream, right?

Sandra was the only one who stayed the night with me. She rented Sex and the City and we watched
Carrie fall in and out of love with Mr. Big for about half a dozen times before they finally ended up
together, constituting a fabulous Manhattan-style fairytale-with a pair of blue Manolo Blahnik to replace
the glass slippers. I knew Sandra meant to tell me that sex wasn't such a big deal, that the last love was
much more important than the first time.

"Who cares who Carrie lost it to, right? The point is you end up with Mr. Big."

"Sean is my Mr. Big," I followed her cue.

She shrugged. "You don't know that."

Oh, but I do. Sean and I would fit very well together, just like in fashion, grey goes wonderfully with pink.
I could feel it in my bones, but I was in no hurry. What was mine would be mine eventually.

"So is Max any good?" I bet Sandra was dying to ask, but she had the decency to wait until I had
recovered partially from the

initial shock of getting dumped right after losing it.

"Well...the first few seconds were really uncomfortable."

"And then?" There was hope in her voice. Sandra was curious about sex but was very cautious about
taking it past second base.

"And then it's over." We looked at each other and laughed. "The only good thing about sex is that it
doesn't take much time. It's completely overrated." Seriously, it took less time than fishing out my credit
card and waiting for the receipt to print out.

"Now that it's over, you should be celebrating instead of freaking out." Sandra started to gorge on a
whole carton of Ben and Jerry's with me, and that was when I knew she really cared, despite all her
unsympathetic remarks. No one could make her break her strict-veggie-no-carb diet except for me. She
hid all her love in the unspoken details, which strangely made her all the more sincere.

She was my first close friend in high school, because I had done a quick survey and she was the only one
with an acceptable wardrobe. I figured people who knew how to dress themselves should stick together.
The rest of the student body looked like nice people, but unfortunately they didn't seem like they could
inspire me, fashion-wise.

"I love your top," I said one day during study hall. "I'd probably lose the necklace, but the top is really
great. I love how you pair it with the skirt and belt."

She raised her head from what looked like homework. "Thanks."

"I'm serious. Who made it?"

"What?" She looked a little annoyed. As if study hall really was for studying

instead of exchanging fashion ideas.

"I mean the brand name of your top. It looks expensive!" I whispered excitedly.

"I don't think it even has a label. I picked it up randomly at some market."

"Oops. I hope it's not second-hand." I had the feeling my opinion was unappreciated, but I offered
anyway. "But despite that, I think it clearly shows you have great talent in mix and match. You earned
my respect!"

"I'm really trying to study."

"Okay," I said in disappointment. For some reason I decided I liked her even more with the attitude.
Before cracking open my text book, I perked up again. "Hey, do you want to go to the mall together
after school?"
She didn't even bother looking at me. "Fine."

From then on it was how Sandra always acted, like she was bored with me when deep down she was
secretly enjoying the attention. That was the start of a wonderful friendship and at the time she didn't
know how I'd become the most important person during her high school years. She would never admit
it, but we both knew it's true.

I put up with her truckload of attitude problem because when the goings got tough, Sandra stuck by me.
She was the one who pulled me out of my Max Depression by fixing me up with not one but three
college guys, like she had them stored away specifically for this kind of situation.

Oh yes, and she was also the one who helped me plot revenge against Sean in senior year-wait, I'm
revealing too much. Let's rewind a little and start from the beginning, because this is going to be quite a
long story to tell.

Chapter 2 The Ritz Carlton suite

Janet was my second closest friend, and I actually got to know her because of Sean. At first I was under
the impression that she only talked to boys, but then I found out Sean was one of those boys. Along with
this knowledge was the discovery that he was not in a single one of the classes I took in freshman year.

Like that's gonna stop me. Janet sat right by me in math class and I thought why not. There was no harm
in being friendly, right? Not that I was deliberately trying to use her.

We talked about math at first, which was a depressing enough topic itself, let alone when taken into
account of how she clearly sucked as bad as I did. After a bit of prodding, I managed to fish out that she
had a band! Rock bands were definitely one of the cool things to have in high school (as well as college
boyfriends and a MacBook Air), and I was genuinely impressed with people who could sing. I took a
closer look at Janet and realized that she had the potential to be attractive if only someone could donate
her a makeover.

"I think you can totally go for the Avril Lavigne look, now that I've given some thought to it," I said.

Janet frowned skeptically. She was really thin, washboard thin, with straight listless platinum blonde hair
that screamed lack of conditioning. I refrained from telling her that. She looked like she randomly threw
on some rock band T shirt and called it an effort. At least the shirt looked ok.

"I can do your makeup for you," I said. "Surely you need to look...dynamic on stage?"

"Well, you really don't have to."

She wasn't overjoyed

at the offer, to say the least. I'd probably be alarmed too if someone out of nowhere suggested giving
me a makeover, but Janet didn't know what a pro I was.

"I know I don't have to." I rolled my eyes. "And that's what makes me such a great person! I mean, you
really have nice features and I bet you're dying to learn about makeups and stuff. It can't hurt right?
Who knows? Maybe you'll gain more popularity at your next gig."
"Our band is more about the lyrics and tunes, rather than me looking pretty." She smiled, probably
amused at my enthusiasm.

"I'm sure your band is awesome, but these days everything is about marketing, my friend."

Janet agreed on the condition that I didn't make her into Marilyn Manson, and I was in her bedroom
that very afternoon under my insistence. We talked for hours, and not once did the subject of Sean
come up. Janet was funny with good-natured sarcasm, and she had the best collection of CDs
imaginable. I even stayed for dinner (her brother was nice to talk to but not so flirt-worthy, so I kindly
left him alone).

I checked her band out, of course. I dragged Sandra with me to one of her gigs, and we both agreed
Janet was amazingly radiant on stage. When she sang her scores on the hot-o-meter went right up,
brutally outshining everyone else. The drummer Andrew asked me out afterwards and at the time I
considered it the bonus of the day. He turned out to be a lousy date but my friendship with Janet
stayed.

I confessed to Janet a few weeks later about my initial intentions, after I felt that the friendship was
secure.

"Jan,

you do know that I love you and I sincerely value your friendship, right?" We were in her bedroom
listening to some new band she just discovered. "You're a great person to know and I say this from the
bottom of my heart."

"Flora, are you breaking up with me?"

"I just want you to know what we have is real."

"Okay...where is all this drama going?"

"It's just that at first when I started talking to you, I really was just trying to get through to your friend
Sean." Before she could answer I rushed on. "But that was just in the very, very beginning because I
honestly thought you were cool once I got to know you, and I started being your friend for real. And
Sandy adores you too." I threw in Sandra just to make this friendship more appetizing, although Sandra
would never say she adored anyone in a million years.

Janet was only silent for a few seconds. "Flora, that's completely fine. I know our friendship is real and
you don't need to worry about it."

"Seriously? You're not mad?"

"No. I just wanted a free makeup tutorial too in the beginning; isn't that how friendships work?" She
shrugged easily.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you understand, or else I'm fully prepared to give you a little
speech of all the things I like about you."

She laughed. "You can still give me that speech if you want. But come to think of it, you never asked me
anything about Sean."
"Yes, well, I kind of got distracted," I admitted sheepishly, thinking of how I had dated Andrew, then this
guy called Ethan.

"Why don't you talk to him yourself? You

hardly seem like you need my help in meeting guys."

"Yes, usually that's the case, but Sean seems like he keeps to himself. I really have no idea what to say to
him, and when I try to initiate some small talk he quickly ends the conversation."

"Yeah, he tends to be a little quiet and serious at first and it takes some time for him to warm up," Janet
agreed. "What do you like about him anyway?"

"You mean other than the fact that he's incredibly hot?" I didn't really see why any other reason was
necessary. "I'm easily attracted to the dark and mysterious type of guys."

Janet laughed as if I said something genius. "Well, Sean's not mysterious and definitely not dark. He's a
very simple guy who spends way too much time studying."

"Really? He's not the moody, intense, brooding type that runs hot and cold? Who pushes you away but
secretly beats up everyone for you?" I wasn't really serious about the last line.

"In that case you might be disappointed. But seriously you're into that? I thought that kind of mentally
disturbed guys only work on TV, plus they all have a drunken mother and abusive father."

"Alright then. Just incredibly hot would suffice."

"Sean is a great guy," Janet stated firmly like it was the Gospel. "I hope you get to know him better.
You're welcomed to join us if we hang out, but I'll just make it clear now that I don't want to play
matchmaker, and if you want to say something to him, you say it yourself."

"That sounds fair." I mused about the idea. "Wait, you're not interested in him, are you? If you are I'll
bury this idea and never mention it again.

After all, you've known him for so much longer, I think it's only fair you take the first bite."

"The first bite? Ewww." Janet shook her head. "No, help yourself. Actually he's going to tutor me on
math this Saturday. You want to join? As I recall you didn't do so well on your last test either."

Janet's brilliant idea didn't exactly bring me and Sean closer, and even though my never-ending crush on
him went on like the numbers behind pi, it remained largely one-sided. The tutorial session happened in
freshman year, and I'll fast forward two years because pretty much nothing that happened between
Sean and I was worth mentioning in this span of time. I pretty much got shot down every time I talked to
him.

Normally I'd have given up by now, but he was so cute I decided that he was entitled to be difficult. I
mean, I may get distracted sometimes, but I always saved a special place at the back of my mind for
Sean, like the Presidential Suite at the Ritz Carlton. Throughout the first two years of high school, I let
him stay there in peace, undisturbed by my meaningless flings which came and went in the hotel lobby.
When junior year began, I landed on the cheerleading squad, just when Sean graduated from JV and
made varsity basketball team. It was becoming harder to ignore the fact that I only had eyes for him,
and I loved screaming out his name during cheers, pretending it was all a show of school spirit. It used to
be nice when a group of us got together after a game and he brightened it by his existence, but
gradually this crush had turned sour, and it felt pointless going

to events that he didn't go.

The sad thing was he missed out on lots of events. Sean was a straight-A student and took eight billion
AP classes. From what I heard he was really dedicated to his studies, and somehow he made being smart
and getting good grades seem like a cool thing, which in turn made me feel very uncool and stupid at
times.

I had already gotten myself nicely tanned in the Bahamas during summer break, and Max had gone off
to college and disappeared from my life, continuing on his journey to make this world a more twisted
place. I decided the ideal time had come to give it another shot and asked to join Janet and Sean for a
movie. Speaking of which, a short while ago Janet met her boyfriend during one of her performances.
Brian was a premed student who seemed very busy and extremely secure. Whenever he couldn't make
it, Janet would hang out with Sean.

That afternoon, when I finally got to spend some time with him after school, the day turned out to be
horribly disappointing.

No, it wasn't because Sean himself was disappointing. He was polite, charming, very much a gentleman
and had his unique sense of wry humor, yet at the same time he was very cool and aloof (which only
added to his charm).

I was rarely self-conscious but around him I felt ridiculously nervous the whole time. I didn't even dare
flirt with him, afraid of making a fool of myself. Sean was like the clock striking midnight; he made all my
magic power wear off.

Despite Janet's previous statement of not wanting to get involved, she was a pal and made several
attempts of giving us some time together.

I had to admit I was dismayed in finding out that he didn't seem interested at all.

Here's the evidence:

a. Janet let me sit between them during the movie, and I tried making some comments during the
trailers, and he only nodded. Not even a chuckle. Maybe he thought the things I said were brainless,
which they kind of were.

b. After the movie Janet asked to be dropped off at school so that he could give me a ride home, alone,
but he insisted on dropping me off first since they were neighbors. Okay, I admit that was logical, but if
he was at least partially interested he would have grabbed that opportunity.

c. He didn't even have the decency to drop me off at my doorstep and chose instead to do it at the
vicinity of my house, saying he couldn't make a U-turn, which showed he did not even care where I lived.
I got into the elevator in my building, defeated, and checked my reflection in the mirror. Hair: Vidal
Sassoon ad campaign worthy. Make-up: CoverGirl immaculate. Outfit: over-the-knee socks, Oxford
shoes and plaid skirt, showing off the dangerously provocative three inches of bare skin on my thighs.

What more could he want? Why was it so hard to get the only guy I really liked?

Chapter 3 The difficult case

Janet

Everybody has a friend like this.

You know the kind. They may not be the closest to you, know you the longest or understand you the
best, but they always pop into your head without warning. They're the friend you talk about, who makes
you start a sentence with their names. They stand out like a dash of red on a canvas of blue and brown,
a flamingo among the pigeons, a harp against the drums.

I met Flora when we were both freshmen in high school. She had a seemingly elegant, almost demure
composition, but this impression was overthrown the minute she opened her mouth. She couldn't stop
talking, and her energy sizzled off her body like static electricity. Even when she was whispering, it was
done loudly and crassly, and when accompanied by her huge database of expressions and gestures, she
left me slightly dizzy.

We didn't seem like we belong in the same group. I don't want to sound like a Taylor Swift song here,
but Flora the cheerleader wore high heels and her skirt was so short she made me blush. Her nose
looked so perfect it could only be preordered.

First three words that came to my head: rich, bratty, surgery.

The rich part turned out to be true. Bratty? Occasionally. Rhinoplasty? Nope. The girl was just lucky.

I was proud of my vintage collection of rock band tees and my sneakers. I didn't own a single dress
before turning 14 and my hair was way too short. For some reason I thought it was a good idea to base
my hair style on Marie Fredriksson from Roxette; if you're into the Swedish pop rock band then you get
the idea.

Before

high school, most of my friends were guys. Their honesty was what I liked most about them. They
wouldn't refuse something then get mad at you later for not persuading them harder. If I wasn't hanging
around my older brother and his friends, I'd be practicing with my band members, or sitting on the
doorsteps chatting with my best friend/next door neighbor Sean.

I was always honored to be one of the guys.

However, as my hair grew longer with age, I started to see the opposite sex differently. How did they go
from eww to yum in one second? I'd be lying if I said I didn't care at all about my own appearance, and
when Flora crashed into my life with her makeover offer, I took the chance.
Never really thought we'd get along splendidly, until we did. She, the walking drama, always ready to
entertain, and me, the sarcastic observer, forever psychoanalyzing people and changing my opinions of
the world.

I adored Flora, but that doesn't mean I liked to meddle in her love affairs. I knew from past experiences
that she had a very different idea on relationships compared to most people.

Flora and Sean were a mess I didn't want to take part in, but I tried my best to give them some alone
time when we hung out one afternoon. Sean practically flung every chance I gave him back in my face
like a boomerang.

On the way back from the movie, he dropped Flora off first then drove on home with me. My mobile
phone buzzed and I saw that I had a message from Flora.

I know you don't want to but would you please please please ask him what he thinks because I'm at

wits end. And don't make me sound desperate.

I groaned inwardly at the most desperate text I'd read in a while. Why did I always get stuck being the
messenger? This wasn't the first time a girl asked me about Sean's opinion, what he liked or whether he
had a girlfriend. The guy should hire me as his agent and I could throw him a press conference and get it
over with.

"I noticed you didn't seem particularly interested in Flora," I brought it up dutifully.

Sean stopped at a red light. "Well, it's not that. I can't imagine anyone not at least a little bit interested
in Flora. I think it's more like not wanting to get involved."

"Really? Why?"

"I think Flora is pretty hot, but so does every other guy at this school. I don't want to check every second
if someone else is checking her out."

I chuckled in surprise. "I've never known you to be scared of competition."

"In the case of Flora Morgan I think I am a little scared. And you know how secretly I'm the jealous
boyfriend, and something tells me if we dated there'd be plenty of things to provoke me."

"You're not even tempted for some harmless casual dating?" I figured that was what Flora was aiming
for anyway.

"You mean just have fun and go with it? That sounds like something only Jake would say." Jake was the
star on the basketball team and a real player, both on and off the court. "Not that I need to make it into
something serious, but if I know in advance it's not going to work out, I probably wouldn't initiate it."

"Well, I admire your morals. Most people would jump at the

chance of initiating anything with her, serious or not serious." Sean had a bunch of rules that he set for
himself, and he always tried to do the right thing.

"I think she goes through guys like collecting designer bags. It's like she has a list of 'guys to date before
graduating high school'," he said. This analogy was probably inspired by the Chanel bag Flora was
carrying earlier. "I'm just not comfortable with the idea of being a name that is waiting to be crossed
off."

"Well..." I hesitated. I didn't want to meddle in their business but I felt I had to say something. "Just to
set the record straight, she's had a crush on you for two years. She keeps trying to get to know you
better, but she thinks you brush her off."

Sean turned his attention away from the road and glanced at me briefly.

"To her you're more like the guy to date before graduating high school."

He laughed. "Wow. Thanks for telling me that."

"It's true. Remember in freshman year when you were tutoring me on math and she'd ask to join? And
you kicked her out of your tutoring session?"

"Yeah, but that was because she didn't need it. She was distracting me."

"She thought you didn't like her because she wasn't smart enough."

"I've never thought that. Ever. I think she's just lazy about studying."

I glanced at Sean, who wasn't showing too much enthusiasm about finding his new not-so-secret
admirer. On the outside they seemed like a good match. Good to look at together, at least, but they sent
out opposite vibes.

Being around Sean made me feel like reaching

out for soft, falling snow. He was perpetually calm and cool. Flora was more like an avalanche. She was
unapologetic and in your face, but you just couldn't look away.

"So...are you really not interested? Because I can make things happen if you are." I really hate this job.
"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

He hesitated for a brief second and smiled. "I'll pass. I'm sure she's not serious about me anyway."

To be honest I wasn't even surprised. I knew all about Sean's dating pattern, and I knew he tended to
avoid difficult cases. He was busy enough being a jock on the outside and a science nerd on the inside,
and he knew better than to challenge himself with someone like Flora.

It wasn't a confidence thing; it had more to do with just how unimportant relationships were to him and
how unmotivated he was about working for it. He usually let fate happen.

In freshman year he had commented once about my friends Sandra and Flora.

"You're friends with the most beautiful girls in school," he remarked. "What are they like?" It was more
out of curiosity than interest.

"They're actually pretty nice, not what I expected. Especially Flora."

He nodded. "Yeah, she seems to be very outgoing."

He had left it at that, but it showed Sean's definition of beauty was the same as everyone else, and I
knew he liked them pretty. He was superficial like every other guy I knew; it was looks before
personality, at least in the initial state of attraction.

Two weeks later he announced that he asked out his lab partner Sharon, who was a nice enough girl but
I thought he did it mainly for the convenience. He never went out of his way to meet a girl or stressed
over how to make someone like him, so in a way he was really naïve about relationships.

Dating Sharon just made sense, since they talked over a crystallization procedure and Sean seemed to
think it was a good idea to combine chemistry with chemistry.

"She said my eyes were the color of copper sulfate," he reported. "I think she likes me. Although to be
fair my eyes are much darker."

I rolled my eyes. "You fell for that? Is that like the nerdy version of pickup line?"

He laughed. "Chemicals really turn me on," he joked. "And Sharon is pretty."

He went out with Sharon for a few times, but it faded soon when he transferred most of his energy to
practicing for basketball team tryouts. Later there were a few others in the same fashion, such as the girl
who sat next to him in English and the partner in German class. He dated them briefly in classic high
school fashion, no more than a few weeks with fading intensity. The dates were mainly just an activity to
fill up an occasional opening. He let it diminish naturally before it turned into anything concrete.

Dating was more like a recreational thing for him, a why not rather than something that he felt he had
to keep adding fuel in to keep moving, and that's why it surprised me so much when I witnessed what
happened later with Flora.

He just didn't know what it felt like to meet that one person who challenged him, who drove him insane
and madly in love, and made his life a living hell, until he met her.

Chapter 4 The condom

Flora

Since I wasn't having any luck with Sean, I'm going to digress a little here and talk about my best friend
Sandra Jenkins. Sandra was your average Ice Princess with a head of irritatingly perfect blond hair as if
she had her own personal stylist, and on first impression she seemed like a snob. After I got to know her,
however, I realized she wasn't only snobby, she was also mean and egotistic, but one thing I liked about
her was how she always gave her brutally honest opinion on everything. Anything she said behind closed
doors she would be comfortable sharing with the world, because that's just how sure of herself she was.
You don't expect her to wear a fake smile, the way you don't expect a knockoff Prada bag on me.

I just got over a huge fight with her lately and the process was pretty embarrassing. Usually she thought
high schools boys were too immature for her highness and declared that she didn't have time to waste
on them, but a while ago she strangely started to develop feelings for Daniel Patterson, the artist. He
was the type of person who'd rather talk to the grass as he took photos of it, than to people. Naturally I
wouldn't have guessed Sandra's interest, and I only remarked lightly during lunch one day that Dan was
kind of cute. He was good-looking in a shaggy, unkempt way if you know what I mean.
Ah, sprezzatura. That's the word. It's like he spent a lot of effort on looking effortless, kind of like the
way Sandra weighed her food so that she could calculate the calories, keep fit, then tell people she was
a natural size two.

I had no idea

Sandra would go berserk, though.

"I thought your recent target is Sean Foster," she said. In retrospect her tone was dark, but at the time
I'd failed to notice.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't mind a bit of side dish," I said carelessly. It was only meant as a joke, and I didn't
really want Sandra to know how serious I was about Sean. Sandra was always kind of a frenemy and if
she knew how Sean brushed me off it'd only delight her. "Dan looks like an easy target. I think I can get
him to take me to the homecoming dance just by walking over there right now and snapping my
fingers."

Sandra practically ordered me to stay away from him, like I was infected and should be quarantined. She
also said lots of nasty stuff which I'll not go into details here. Anyway normally if I knew Sandra liked
someone, I let her work her magic. When we met a fresh supply of new guys I always let her choose
first. I mean, I wasn't picky (to me there were only Sean and the rest anyway). But this time something
about the way she said it (either that or due to the frustration of not getting Sean, since Janet flat out
told me he wasn't interested) ticked me off.

"I won't." I glared right back at her.

"You try it and you'll be sorry." Sandra sneered. She stormed off and left that line hanging ominously in
the air like a thunder cloud. For the next three days, she completely ignored me to the point that it
started to sting. I had always been good to Sandra, and as I smoldered in indignation, I drew up a list
about just how fabulous a friend I was:

a. always letting her be boss and deciding what to do, even

if she wanted to watch a pretentious French film with subtitles when we could be watching The
Avengers instead.

b. handing over the position of cheerleading captain (although to be fair it was too much work for my
taste)

c. pulling out of nomination for homecoming queen because I knew she really wanted it (again, too
much work, not to mention I didn't wear fake jewelry. Don't get me started on how ugly the tiara was!)

d. supporting her with all my heart even when she was clearly in the wrong (like making Regina cry
during cheerleading tryouts)

e. defending her when people called her a bitch (because let's face it Sandra really could give that kind
of impression sometimes)

f. last but not least, letting her stand in the back when we took a selfie, so that her face looked smaller
To be honest I thought I was more popular and prettier than she ever would be, but if it made her happy
I gladly let her stand under the spotlight. It was like Batman volunteering to follow instead of lead,
despite the fact that he had all the cool equipment and a suit with fake abs. I was that selfless.

Flora Morgan didn't respond well to threats, however. I decided that I would not let Sandra take me for
granted again, especially when she shunned me for a boy, in cold blood.

I went right ahead and asked Daniel out. This is the way to do things, Sandra. You and your stupid hard-
to-get rules are never going to get you anywhere.

Daniel the artist took his DSLR camera and we embarked on a journey to a very dingy part of the city so
he could dwell on his photography.

Four out of five sentences we shared were about Sandra as he tried to dig out information about her,
and one was "Can you hold this for me?" when he bent down to tie his shoelaces. When he finally found
his spot for inspiration, he lay himself flat on the pavement so he could take a shot of a homeless man
sleeping outside the restaurant, with a used condom dotting the foreground.

"I'm going to amplify it and print it out black and white," Daniel informed me. "The title is going to be
existence."

"How about forsaken man and forsaken babies?" I suggested, and he ignored me.

"We eat, we have sex, we sleep, and we die. That's the meaning of human existence," he said, lowering
his voice and adding a trace of rasp, as if it would make him more profound. He was so preposterous I
suddenly saw how pointless and ridiculous the whole thing was.

I was wasting his time, Sandra's time, and my own time by hanging out with a guy I didn't even like, just
so I could prove a point. I wasn't even entirely sure what the point was anymore. What kind of poor
investment was that? I should be spending time on working out a plan to attack Fort Sean.

"I can't do this," I announced. "You obviously have a crush on Sandra, and you need to grow a pair and
ask her to the dance. You might need to ask her three times before she says yes, but she will, trust me."

Just so it happened, the next day at school I overheard some girls chatting up Sandra while I was in the
bathroom stall. They were proving their loyalty by means of attacking me, kissing up to her since they
figured the position of Sandra's

best friend was up for grabs. I didn't even blame them, frankly. People wanted to be accepted by Sandra
partly because she was mean, the same way there's always a huge line outside hip restaurants where
the waitresses have attitude problems.

"Didn't she sleep with, like, the whole football team?" one of them asked.

Just the captain. Shouldn't they at least get their facts right before they insulted me? Talk about poor
work ethic.

"We're totally on your side," the other chimed in. "She's such a slut."

Lo and behold, at this moment came the wondrous part. "Is bitching about Flora supposed to make me
feel good?" Sandra said in that stern tone of hers, like she was Queen Mary I and was giving orders for
someone to be executed. "She's not a slut, and I don't like people who use that word. You guys don't
even deserve to carry her shopping bags for her."

I almost laughed out loud. Was that a compliment or was she implying I was a senseless shopaholic? I
could hear the girls mumbling something and scurrying away like rodents, and when I unlocked the
door, Sandra just looked at me embarrassed. She was not used to being caught red-handed when she
was acting nice.

"That doesn't mean I forgive you," she said huffily after a tense second.

"Oh, Sandy, but you have to!" I sighed dramatically. "I'm in dire need of someone to carry my shopping
bags for me."

She smiled, at first unwillingly, then she broke into laughter and I joined in.

"You wanna go to the mall together after school?" I asked.

"Fine. I'm so sick of fighting with you."

I rushed

over to hug her. I felt a little teary, to be honest, but Sandra didn't like mush. We weren't the kind of
friends that sent each other hearts and kisses all the time, which just made it all the more real.

"I'm sorry I let something as stupid as high school boys get between us," she said. The fact that Mighty
Sandra said sorry first really touched me.

"I'm sorry too. For everything. I know you really like Daniel."

She scoffed. "About as much as one can like a high school guy, which is not all that much. Even stray cats
are more likable than they are."

That was typical Sandra, acting like she couldn't care less. I told her how I managed to set things right
with Dan and that it looked like they were going to the dance together after all. "Daniel only went out
with me because I begged him to," I said. Selfless, I know. "He's not interested in me at all. He couldn't
stop talking about you."

"I told you. You always scare guys off with your directness. You should just wait, and they'll come to you
when they're ready," Sandra instructed as if she had a license in dating. "It's like feeding wild animals.
You just don't start waving your arms and running after them."

"Yes, yes," I agreed, although I didn't buy it one bit. Sean was the type of wild animal who'd rather
starve than come to me, for example. Some guys just needed a bit of nudge.

Or a snare so I could trap him.

"Well, I need to make sure of something first." Sandra crossed her arms. "Did you touch any part of
Daniel's body? If so I don't want him anymore. I don't do leftovers."

"Relax, Sandy. He's as fresh as a baby bamboo shoot." I tilted my head. "We did talk about condoms and
sex, though, if you must know."
Sandra shot me a warning glance and I laughed. I told her what a pretentious little elitist Daniel was and
she actually appreciated his talent! She liked his idea of human existence!

"Oh for god's sake, Sandy, please get him away from me. That was one of the worst dates of my life. The
horror...the horror..." I started to imitate Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now and Sandra laughed and hit
me.

I giggled. We stood in front of the mirror together and checked our makeup, which might as well be the
epitome of female bonding. I snuck a peek and found a discreet smile playing at her lips. Ah, I loved
seeing her happy, and now that it was taken care of, I thought it was my turn for happiness. This is the
way Karma works, right?

And that evening, things finally started to unravel.

Chapter 5 The party and the confession

Flora

After the dispute with Sandra was settled, I could finally focus on the task at hand, which was to
confront Sean once and for all. That evening we all went to Raymond Corbett's party because he threw
the best ones, and rumor had it that even Sean would be there. I had the outline of my plan figured out.
The rest I could improvise.

Parties are ideal places for things to happen. The combination of deafening music, cheap beer and late
night equals poor judgment, and perhaps Sean could make one and surrender himself to me-I was
kidding, of course. It would be the best decision of his life.

By the time I arrived, the party was in full swing. Bodies swayed against the music, and music bounced
around the walls like wavy fluids, like shaking a glass tank full of colorful water. The air promised
excitement. I went to Raymond first and asked if I could book a single room.

"Are you going to mess up my bed?" he said.

"No! I just want some privacy so I can talk to him undisturbed."

He cooperatively handed me the key to his room, like the good friend he was. Step one: complete.
"Well, if the situation permits, I don't mind if you use my bed."

See? Such a pal.

Next stop was the kitchen. My eyes skimmed over the counter and located a bottle of raspberry vodka. I
downed enough of it until the slightest sense of wooziness kicked in, but not so much it'd mess up my
speech. I wanted to be confident, not a slurry drunk with a stupid grin.

As the invigorating elixir coursed through my veins, I started to feel like Popeye after he sucked in a can

of spinach through his pipe. Step two, done. I was brave and invincible, ready for Sean.

It wasn't hard to find him. He was sitting on the sofa with his basketball teammates playing some kind of
drinking game, and at the moment he was laughing at something.

I squeezed in right next to him. "I want to play too."

He glanced at me, a leftover smile still on his face. "Sure," he said, but I had the feeling it was more out
of obligation than delight. The sofa was very small and with five people sitting on it, it was incredibly
tight. My leg was touching his and I noticed him inching away subtly.

"How nice of you to join us, Flora," Jake said. I could tell he didn't mind having a pretty girl with them,
and in no time I had swallowed two more cups without even knowing how the game worked. They could
be setting me up for all I knew. The noise around me spiked and got louder. My eyes widened, and when
I moved my head it was in slow motion, like I was playing a movie frame by frame.

What were we even drinking? It was stronger than I expected.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sean asked.

"Yeah. Just a little dizzy."

Whoa. My body was leaden but my head was floating off my shoulders. I leaned against Sean's body and
closed my eyes for a second.

"Flora, your turn to drink again," Dylan said.

On hearing my name, my head snapped up like a frightened animal on hearing a gunshot. I reached out
for the cup but Sean stopped me by laying a hand on my forearm.

"You've had too much to drink. Take a break."

"Hey, no stopping in the middle of a game,"

Jake cut in with his signature grin. In my dizziness the grin split his face in two.

"Come on, Flora. Is that all you've got?" Dylan taunted.

"I'm fine, really." I looked at Sean before I reached out for the drink again.

He took it from me. "You're going to get a headache later."

"If you want to drink for her," Dylan said with a smirk, "You have to drink triple."

Sean pressed my forearm down gently. Without a word, he drank up three cups in a row. I watched his
Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His friends cheered.

"We want out for the next round," he told them, then he turned to me and said he was going to get me
some water.

"No, that's not necessary."

He ignored my protests and got me water anyway. I was in a daze, still dwelling on the fact that he said
we wanted out. So we were a WE! His eyes were on me the whole time I was chugging down water, like
he was the prison guard and I was some kind of convict. Sean was usually really polite. I didn't know he
could be somewhat dominating and I liked it.

I set down the empty cup. "I'm not drunk. I just need some alcohol in me before I can work up the
courage to talk to you."
He laughed a little, surprised. "You need courage to talk to me? What's going on?"

"Can you come with me for a second?"

"Why?"

I rubbed my temples. "Please. You're right. I drank too much and I'm suddenly not feeling very well. I
think I want to lie down for a while."

He stood up first then pulled me up. I practically fell into his arms and he had to put one arm around me
to steady me

(I didn't plan that part, but I wasn't about to complain). I showed him the way to Raymond's room,
staggering unattractively against him, and once we were inside I immediately locked the door. I turned
to face him, now looking significantly more sober than a minute ago.

Sean stared at me. "Is this a trick?"

I lowered myself down to the single armchair in the room. I crossed my legs, making sure they were
positioned at the ideal angle. "Sort of. But I meant no harm."

His eyes clouded over. They were blue, by the way, so it was like staring into a rainy day, the most
gorgeous kind. "What do you want?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm just going to come right out and say it. Sean, I really like you. You know,
that kind of like."

He didn't flinch. "You don't even know me that well."

"I know enough to know that I can't stop thinking about you."

He smiled briefly. "Thanks. I'm flattered."

I waited for him to say more but he didn't. "Is that all you're gonna say?"

"Flora, you're very attractive, but I think we're better off as friends."

I could hear an imaginary soft, wet squeak, which was the sound of him squeezing my heart by brutally
friendzoning me. I sighed. This wasn't going as well as I had hoped.

"Sean, please take a seat."

There was really nowhere else to sit in the room, so Sean sat down at the foot of the bed. I got up and
took the space next to him, wanting to close the distance between us. Our eyes locked. He was so near,
so handsome, yet I couldn't believe I wasn't allowed to have him.

"What don't you

like about me? If you're going to blow me off, at least tell me why," I blurted out.

He blinked, looking slightly taken aback. I guess normally girls would have run away crying by now
instead of pushing him for an answer. He was quiet for a while and finally said, "It just seems like we
have very different interests, and I think we won't have anything in common to talk about."
"I'm very versatile," I said. "I'm interested in all sorts of things. No one has ever complained of not
knowing what to talk about with me."

"I know you're very easy to talk to. I think the problem is with me."

"I can't wait to find out more about you. Maybe under your mysterious and cool-guy appearance we're
actually more alike than you think. Who knows? We might really hit it off!"

Sean chuckled softly. Gosh I loved the sound of his laugh. "You might think I'm mysterious now, but once
you know me a little better you'll see there's nothing mysterious about me. I'm going to bore you."

"I don't believe you."

"I have a very routined life, Flora. I'm nerdy and I spend a lot of time studying. Your glamorous lifestyle
won't fit with mine."

What did that mean, my glamorous lifestyle? "You mean I'm vain and stupid."

"No....I mean I'm not romantic or exciting. There'll be no surprises and pretty soon you'll want to move
on."

I stared at him not believing any of it. Just sitting together in Raymond's room was very romantic and
exciting already. I let his words sink in for a while. I was starting to get dizzier by the second, but I
managed to read between the lines.

"Is that

the real reason? You think I move from one guy to the next."

"Well you are very popular-"

"Oh my god. I get it now." I drew a sharp breath. "You can just say it. You think I'm a slut."

"What?" Sean's eyes widened. "No!"

"Isn't that what you're suggesting?" I said indignantly. What I heard from the bathroom stall came back
all of a sudden and slapped me awake. Stupid people always assumed I was easy just because I had lots
of guy friends, but I didn't expect Sean to be one of them.

For some reason he found my anger funny and actually smiled. I sat glaring at him.

"Flora, I don't know how your mind works, but you're very funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny! Not that it's relevant, but you're the first boy that makes me...do this." I
gestured wildly, meaning that I had to throw myself at him and demand an answer for the rejection. "I
don't chase after every good-looking guy in school, you know."

"I know. You don't have to." He turned more solemn. "Seriously I'm very flattered. I think you're brave
to speak your mind, and I just want to reassure you once and for all that I don't think you are vain,
stupid, or a slut."

"Then why? All your excuses sound very lame to me."

He didn't answer me right away. "Weren't you and Sandra fighting over Daniel Patterson recently?"

I cringed. I just knew that was going to come back and bite me someday. "That's so irrelevant. It's a
stupid misunderstanding." I briefly recounted the events of the past week, thinking he might sympathize
with me and see how I was pushed into this drama.

He didn't. "So you're

saying you'll lead a guy on out of spite even though you're not interested in him at all."

"No!" I denied frantically. He had managed to completely miss the moral of the story. "Well yes, in this
case, but this is extreme circumstances. It's different with you."

Sean apparently wasn't deriving much pleasure from hearing this story. "I don't want to be your
rebound."

"Are you crazy?" I said in exasperation. "I'm trying to make you see that you're the one I really want and
it's like you aren't even listening...." A wave of nausea passed over me and I thought I might puke. This
didn't escape his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really." I stood up shakily, tired and upset, suddenly impatient of waiting for an answer. "I'm going
home. Consider yourself off the hook."

"How are you going to get home? You're in no condition to drive."

"I have enough sense not to drive, thank you. I'm going to walk," I replied haughtily.

"You're going to walk," Sean repeated. "In your heels. At midnight."

"Yes. And it's none of your business."

I walked out of the room-or should I say, tried to. The stupid door was locked and I kept turning the lock
in the wrong direction, until Sean reached over to open it for me.

I glanced at him. He was trying not to smile.

I hurried past him in embarrassment and found Raymond. I slammed the keys down on the counter next
to him.

"No luck?"

Like he had to ask. One look at my face and he knew the answer. I said goodbye and made my legs carry
me to the front door, and when I turned around who did I see but

Sean beside me. I scowled at him.

"I'll walk home with you."

I shrugged. "If it pleases you." Secretly I was glad because although my house was only ten minutes
away, midnight was not my favorite time to carry out this walk.
Once the chilly night air hit my face I felt a little better. We walked in silence. I didn't really want to talk
to Sean anymore, since I was probably only going to get myself insulted. Maybe he felt awkward too and
he didn't try to start up a conversation either. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring far
ahead, looking aloof.

I thought it was kind of nice, however. At least he was keeping me company.

Half way into the distance, I felt nauseous again. "Promise not to tell anyone if I puke on the way home.
And don't even think about taking pictures."

"I promise."

"I bet you'll tell all your friends how I humiliated myself telling you I like you."

"I won't," he said firmly. "I won't tell anyone."

I should have listened to Sandra. Now that I came to my senses, confronting him wasn't such a hot idea.
"I really shouldn't have done that. I'm so embarrassed. How am I ever going to face you in school
again?" I said out loud although I really should just keep my mouth shut.

"We'll just pretend nothing happened." I could tell he was trying not to laugh. "I won't hold you
responsible for the things you say when you're drunk."

"Except I meant what I said. I really like you a lot-" I stopped in my track. "Ugh! I wish I could stop my
blabbering. This always happens to me when I drink!"

"I admire you for being so out-spoken. I

don't think I've ever met any girl as unpretentious as you are."

"That's meant as a compliment right?"

"Of course." His lips curled up in amusement.

"Let me get this straight. So even though you think I'm a scheming and manipulative person for leading
Daniel on, you're still willing to think I'm the most unpretentious girl you've ever met."

"I'd rather believe that episode was under extreme circumstances like you said. You're naturally a nice
girl who unfortunately got pushed over the edge."

"Yes. That's what I believe too."

We both laughed. My house came into view just as things were moving along the right direction. It was
actually a very nice apartment with a doorman and an elevator, and apparently Sean didn't know how
well-off my family was.

"You live here?"

"Yes..." I stopped at the entrance. "But you can still kiss me. The doorman won't tell my parents," I
joked, but still, in my wildest dream he would do just that.

He laughed. "Maybe next time when you're less drunk."

"Is that a promise?" Not wanting to hear his answer, I rushed on and said, "Thanks for walking me home.
That's really nice of you."

He smiled. Gosh he was even cuter through beer goggles! "No problem."

"Good night, Sean."

"Good night, Flora. Sleep tight."

I walked in as the doorman opened the door for me. I sighed. I loved good nights. Good nights were
intimate, and even though it'd be weird if Sean didn't say it, I still liked hearing it from him.

It could very well be wishful thinking, but the smile he gave me at the end was warm. Maybe he was just
the tiniest bit interested in me? I was too tired to analyze his every sentence and decided to go straight
to bed and worry about it the next morning, and of course I would tell all my friends and ask what they
thought.

Chapter 6 The phone calls

Flora

The next morning I lay in bed not wanting to get up. I rolled around thinking of Sean and wondering if I
had a chance after all. After much analyzing I decided that he didn't hate me, but it was still a long way
from what I had hoped. I fumbled for my phone and saw it read 11:19am.

I decided to call Sandra. "How was your night with Dan?"

"Well..." It was amazing how I could sense her smirking. Her smugness was seeping right through the
phone. "It was good."

"Are you smirking right now?" I demanded as I padded to the kitchen in my satin slippers. "Did he kiss
you?"

"Yes to both questions." Sandra was obviously pleased with herself.

"That's fast!!"

"I've forgotten how much fun high school boys can be. They're so pure." Ewww! What did that even
mean? "Speaking of which, did you make Sean your new puppy yet?"

I debated over telling her the truth. Sandra was so full of herself right now she couldn't possibly identify
with me. I used to share her confidence in thinking there was no boy hard enough to conquer, but I was
sure the concept was still new to her. "I'm making small progress," I said as I threw open the
refrigerator.

"How so?"

"I'll tell you when there are more juicy bits to share."

"You mean you have no progress."

"Sometimes you are so annoying, Sandy." I fumed.

"Annoyingly accurate, you mean. Seriously, why're you so intent on getting Sean? If he's not interested
you should just move on. He's not as hot as you make him out to be anyway." Sandra agreed Sean was
cute, but she had never been able to see

just how overwhelmingly cuter he was compared to the rest of the student body.

"So why didn't you move on when you thought Dan wasn't interested in you?"

"Daniel is never not interested in me, thank you very much," Sandra said arrogantly. "Plus you're not as
serious about Sean as I'm about Daniel."

"How do you know I'm not serious about him?"

Sandra laughed. "Come on! You know you're not! Aren't you just hung up on him because he's hard-to-
get? If he had asked you out you would've dated and ended it already."

"That's so not true."

"Think about it, honey. You're not really interested in him. You're just interested in a challenge, for a
change." Sandra sounded so righteous I just wanted to hang up. She was incredibly obnoxious with the
way she always assumed that I was only after Sean because of my ego, like he was an animal head I just
couldn't wait to hang on our living room wall. "Besides, you don't even know why you like him, aside
from his pretty face."

I sputtered and couldn't get out a halfway intelligent response. It was true I probably couldn't conjure up
an essay on everything I liked about Sean, but my affection wasn't any less real just because I wasn't
Hemingway. Besides, true love can stem from physical attraction. "Well, what do you like about Daniel?"
I decided to attack rather than defend.

"His outlook on life," Sandra said smoothly, not missing a beat. "You know, looks may change over time,
but I see past the skin."

I just about choked on the Perrier I was drinking. Sandra and Daniel were such a perfect pretentious

match made in hell. "With all due respect, an outlook on life may change more drastically than
appearances," I said. "Look at Tom Cruise. He looks exactly the same as he was in Top Gun, but he's now
a Scientologist."

She snorted. "I can't discuss anything serious with you, Flora."

There she went again, making me feel stupid. I tried not to react on it and told myself she was only
kidding. "Fine, I'll call you later if anything happens, Sandy."

"Okay. You have a good weekend. Remember, life's too short to waste on guys you don't really like,"
Sandra preached in her usual know-it-all way.

"Goodbye, Sandy."

I was so sorry I called her. I needed someone level-headed and perceptive, which was Janet. I rang and
found out she had dropped by for brunch with Sean and his family! Being neighbors could be so
convenient.
"Lucky you! How was he?" I searched the fridge for more food to eat as we chatted. It was funny that
my family could afford anything, but the fridge was almost always empty because nobody ate in. Brunch
at home was a lost concept, as ancient as a vintage Louis Vuitton suitcase.

"Fine. The usual. Why? Did something happen?" Janet asked.

"He didn't mention anything about me? Nothing about the party last night?"

"No."

So he really did keep his promise. It was up to me to tell Janet everything. After a very detailed recount
of last night's events, she replied with, "Well, he did care about you drinking too much and walking
home by yourself, but I gotta tell you he would do that to almost anyone."

"Really? He would walk any

girl home?"

"Any girl that had just locked herself in a room with him and made a confession then walked out in a
huff in the middle of the night, I assume."

I hated how matter-of-fact Janet sounded. Some friends I had. "Oh. So you think I don't really have a
chance."

"I don't know. But I think you already did all you can do. Now it's up to him."

I exhaled. "I'm not going to give up like that. If he doesn't act soon I'll build up my next attack."

"You're very determined this time," Janet observed. "Why? Sean's not the only cute guy you know of.
It's not just some ego thing, is it?"

"Janet! You and Sandy said practically the same thing! Why's it so hard to accept the fact that I can
actually be serious about a guy?"

"You know why. I haven't seen you taking anyone seriously since Max, and even then I thought you only
dated him because you thought going out with a senior will upgrade your social status."

I felt a flicker of annoyance rapidly catching fire and spreading through my veins. I loved my friends, but
they saw so little in me. They all thought I was silly and frivolous and that I could only be after a guy
because of my ego, the challenge, social status, or that I wanted someone cute to look at. Well, the last
part was true, but it was a lot more than that.

"Anyway, it's none of my business, but as your mutual friend all I wish is that you take care of yourselves
and no one gets hurt in the process," Janet went on.

Some mutual friend she was. Janet was clearly more of Sean's friend than she was mine. "Yes, that's
what I hope too."

"So

if you're just going to play him and dump him, I wish you wouldn't. Even if you are, please don't tell me."
I was horrified at this comment. "That's really uncalled for, Janet. I can't promise you that I'm going to
marry him, but my intention sure isn't as horrid as you suggested."

"In that case I apologize."

"Jeez, what's your problem? If you have developed a crush on Sean yourself you can tell me right now." I
was never fully convinced that Janet never liked him. It was too hard to believe, like serving a plate of
divine cheese platter in front of a mouse for thirteen years (that's how long they'd known each other)
and expecting the mouse to never even take a sniff.

"Relax, I'm not interested in him. And good luck with your next attack."

Great. I had the most supportive friends in the whole world. Thank God I still had Carmen. She was my
go-to person when I wanted to hear something nice, and she would even pretend to share my
enthusiasm over Sean even though I knew she couldn't care less.

I was all set to go to an afternoon salon trip with her when the phone rang. I threw down the pair of
skinny jeans I was holding and dove for it, assuming it was either Janet or Sandra calling to try to be a
better friend this time. One look and my pulse quickened instantly.

The name on the screen flashed Sean Foster. It was like the first time he'd ever called me!

"Hi," I said, trying to slow my heartbeat to no avail. I hoped that hi sounded sexy enough despite the
lump in my throat. I felt like it had swollen up the way it always did when I ate

Thai food. That was my "oh my god I'm so happy you called and please chat with me for as long as you
like" hi but I wondered how much of that went through.

"Hi, Flora." He sounded cool. Smooth. "This is Sean. I'm just calling to see if you feel okay."

"Oh yes. I'm fine. Thanks for calling." My mind went blank. I was supposed to be great at phone
conversations. "Uh...how are you?"

"I'm fine," he replied. "Did you get in trouble with your parents?"

"Actually, no. My parents weren't even home."

"That explains it. I thought it was kind of late last night."

"Yeah," I said lamely, still trying to get over the fact that HE CALLED ME! I ordered myself to think up a
new topic or obviously he was going to hang up in a second. I rummaged through my room with my eyes
desperately, searching for inspiration, and all my designer brands stared back at me blankly. Something
told me that Sean probably wouldn't want to chat about shoulder bags.

"Well, I'm glad that you're fine."

Oh no that was his exit line! "Please don't hang up just yet! I promise I'll have something interesting to
say soon," I blurted. What is my problem?!

He laughed, taken by surprise. After a pause he said, "Actually I was going to ask if you want to meet for
coffee, if you're not doing anything later."
"Wow...seriously? Of course I want to!" I squealed.

I could almost sense the spirit of Sandra shaking her head in mid-air. She always acted like a guy needed
to get through her secretary to secure an appointment with her, at least two weeks in advance, but I
wasn't like that. Obviously I would ditch anything else I had planned, i.e. Carmen, to meet Sean even if
he suggested bird watching.

I refrained from jumping up and down in the room. I turned up the volume of my Bose stereo speakers
as I reorganized my outfit, changing the theme from salon trip with girlfriend to Coffee date with to-be
boyfriend and got ready for our first "date", or whatever Sean thought it was.

Step three, overdue but complete.

=================

Chapter 7 The coffee date

Flora

I was beyond excited. We agreed to meet at a local coffee shop he suggested, The Pavement, which I
had never been to before. I told him I would take the bus, but I didn't expect to find him waiting for me
when I stepped off.

A surge of adrenaline rushed through me at the sight of him, and I instantly forgot about all the first
date questions I had been Googling and memorizing on the bus. He had on a crisp white shirt rolled up
at the sleeves and a pair of faded jeans with just the right amount of rips. Melted!

"Hi! You're here," I said unnecessarily.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find the place."

"Thanks. And sorry for being late." I was fifteen minutes late, really not late at all in Flora Morgan's
world, but I felt I had to say it.

He took in my outfit for the day, a loose-fitting silk top and a floral skirt, and smiled. "It's worth the
wait."

I wondered how many buses he had to watch before I showed up. "Sorry."

He led the way. "Is this okay?" he asked as he pushed opened the door. The cafe was of industrial style
with lots of exposed metal and wood. Pretty chic. "I'm here a lot. For homework."

I ordered my brain to scribble down this information. This is where he hangs out.

"I love it," I fibbed, even though it was a little too quiet for my taste. I tended to laugh really loudly when
the situation permitted. He asked me what I wanted and went ahead with the bill, and I decided to let
him. Perhaps it was an ego thing and it was my policy not to fight over small amounts of money. Besides,
if Sean and I were

to become something more, which we definitely would, I'd pay him back in buckets.
He drinks his coffee black, my brain took notes furiously. The poor boy also doesn't own a wallet. He has
all his bills clipped together with a metal money clip which looks awfully...sophisticated.

I decided that from now on, money clips and black coffee were the definition of cool.

All through the afternoon I could only stare at him and wonder if it was even legal for a person to be
that good-looking. He had espresso-colored hair that begged to be tousled, sculpted lips, and blue eyes
with ever-changing colors under different lighting. I learned this information by sneaking peeks at him
for two years. Sometimes they were azure with a hint of gray, other times they were darker, like heated
minerals, and this afternoon they looked clear, like a delightful river at the shallow end. I wanted to kiss
his lips. My conversation was auto-piloted but miraculously I could still make him laugh.

"Do you have any pet peeves?" I asked, after I learned that he was a dog person, his favorite place in the
world was his bedroom, he enjoyed watching any movie directed by Christopher Nolan and David
Fincher, and that if he won the lottery, he would still go to school next Monday.

He thought for a while. "People who blame anyone but themselves for their problems. And also drivers
who switch lanes without signalling. How about you?"

Note to self: stop whining and use the freaking turn signal from now on!

"Um...I kind of hate it when I buy ice-cream and the scoop isn't a perfect sphere,

and some of the cones are so badly made, halfway through it ice-cream would start dripping at the
bottom. That really irritates me."

Can I change my answer? I sound so stupid.

If Sean felt the same way, he didn't show it. He smiled in amusement. "I hate that too, and I hate it when
it melts too fast and starts running down the side of the cone. To top it off, if they only give me a very
small piece of napkin, it really does no good other than sticking to the cone."

"I know, right?" I nodded wildly. Sean was actually not very hard to talk to once I gave him a little time
to warm up. To be exact a little time was two years, but we were finally making progress. That was good
enough for me.

He had ordered a cinnamon roll and an apple strudel because I couldn't decide which looked better. He
encouraged me to try both and said he would finish the rest.

"So how does it feel to be the star of the basketball team?" I asked as if I was interviewing him. To be
honest Sean was good but not that good, but I didn't mind boosting his ego a little. Guys like that, don't
they?

"The star?" His eyebrows rose briefly, then he teased, "Have you even been to any of our games? I think
that question should be directed at Jake."

Jake Lancaster was one of his best friends and played small forward, and he was bound to be sent off to
college in the loving arms of scouts.

"Well, I guess I wasn't looking at Jake during the games," I said boldly.
He held my gaze and smiled. "Glad to know that."

My heart jumped around like a wild horse. I really

didn't look at anyone else on the basketball team, although to be fair there were some really good
catches. It's a tried and true fact that hot guys often have hot friends. If I wanted to compare them to
movies, Jake would be "The Shawshank Redemption" or "The Dark Knight"; I had yet to meet a person
who didn't like those movies, just like everyone agreed Jake was one great-looking dude. Dylan Reyes,
his other friend, was like those cult films, like "Pulp Fiction"; you either loved or hated his style. He had a
shaved head and tattoos on his arms, and he reminded me of a young Colin Farrell with a darker skin
tone. He looked especially hot whenever I got myself drunk.

I couldn't tell what kind of movie Sean was yet. He was probably the kind I'd never get tired of watching,
and everytime I replayed it, I'd notice something I didn't know before. He'd be the kind of movie I
enjoyed so much that I'd always be at a loss for words when I tried to describe what was so special
about it.

"Do you dream of playing professional someday?" I asked.

"No. Basketball is fun, but mainly it's just something to do with my friends and get some exercise. I have
other interests."

"Such as?"

"Well, besides basketball and dating beautiful cheerleaders..." He glanced at me briefly and inside I
blushed at least seven shades of pink. "I like physics. I'm currently preparing to enter the USAPhO."

"Huh?" I stared at him. It was such a strange thing to come out of that beautiful mouth.

"The United States National Physics Olympiad," he explained, and he actually looked a little
embarrassed (which was

super adorable, by the way) as if he knew it was not a cool thing to say. "It's a physics competition and
there are a series of exams in order to select the national representatives. I have to enter the F = ma
contest first, and if I do well I'll be invited to take the semifinal exam, and then...Sorry. I'm boring you."

"No, no, no. It's fine. Physics is...interesting..." I racked my brain for something intelligent to say. "...and
useful. It helps when you play pool, right?"

He smiled. His eye contact was steady but not intrusive. "You are interesting."

I kept reminding myself that this was the first time we were alone together, on a date (as Sean
acknowledged himself), and the chemistry was unquestionable. I was sure Sean couldn't deny it either.
Things were going quite well, and the subject of my family came up.

"My dad is the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, and my mom is the medical adviser. They're away on
business trips all the time. Maybe twice a month. My brothers are away at college, so basically I get to
do what I want."

"No sisters?"
"No, just two elder brothers. They're pretty cool. I like hanging out with them." And their hot friends, of
course.

"No wonder there's something...boyish about you."

I pretended to be insulted. "I hope that's not your way of saying I'm ugly."

He smiled. "I appreciate your talent of always finding a way to twist my words."

I giggled. "How about you? Any siblings?"

"I have a sister. Linda. She's thirteen. Can't say I enjoy hanging out with her."

"Thirteen. I remember being that age. About the

same level of shallowness as I am now, but with smaller boobs."

"No wonder I find them intolerable." He took a sip of his coffee. I stared at him with fascination,
watching the way his long lashes fluttered. If they were any longer he'd look too pretty, but even his
lashes were at just the right length. He lifted his eyes at me and I almost fainted. "Do you like it that
you're alone in the house half the time?"

"I admit there's a lot of freedom, but if I can choose there's nothing better than having a family brunch,
you know? I know that sounds lame but I really love my family." I was aware of how weird I was as a
teenager, but I adored my parents. I thought they were the coolest people in the world.

"That's not lame at all."

"I guess I don't take loneliness well, and I admit I'm not really a stay-at-home kind of girl. While they're
gone I generally go to a lot of parties."

"Like how often? Every week?"

"Pretty much. Weekend parties are a must and I seriously don't get people who don't go. I'm sure I read
somewhere that in parts of the country where there are no bars, the incidence of violent acts more than
doubled. People need to blow off steam, you know," I rambled on. "My middle school friends Sarah and
Jessica know all the best events. They're taking me to a college bonfire this evening..."

As soon as I said it I regretted it. Surely Sean couldn't approve of my partying style and the fact that I
was going to a college thing could only suggest the worst. "Oh my god. I wish I hadn't said that. I
promise you I'm not trying to hook up with some college guy

or anything..."oh just shut up!

"Well, I'm in no position to interfere with what you do on your weekends," he said evenly.

I just wanted to die. He must really want to keep his distance now.

"Or....maybe...you'd like to go with me?" I suggested feebly.

"Nah...hooking up with college guys really isn't my thing."

He had turned me down once again and he clearly thought I was an idiot. My heart sank all the way past
the table, and it fell on the floor, flopping about like a fish out of water-

"But if things get out of hand or you need a ride home tonight, you can call me."

Talk about unexpected plot twist! "That's so nice of you!"

"If you care about what I think, I'd feel a lot nicer if you don't get drunk."

"You're afraid I'll puke in your car," I couldn't resist saying.

"No, I'd be worried about you," he said solemnly as he looked into my eyes. I wasn't one to blush but at
that moment I couldn't help but feel shy.

I looked down at my drink and quickly nodded.

***

"Cheers!" Jess, Sarah and I clinked our cans together. We were at the beach in our cutest dresses. I only
had a Dr. Pepper, however, as they chugged down their beers.

I liked hanging with these girls a lot even though we no longer went to the same schools. I used to go to
a private girls' school with them, St. Margaret's, but since high school I switched to Riverside High. Sure I
liked my high schools friends just as much, but none of them could really be classified as party-goers.
Sandra despised everyone and couldn't see the fun in mingling

with loud, drunken teenagers, and she hated getting her clothes stained with cigarette smell. Carmen
was just girl-scout material who was in honor roll and edited the school paper, which should just tell you
how adorably boring she was. Janet was spotted in lots of parties but she was usually there just for
performances.

None of them could party like Sarah and Jess. They were both crazy, sassy and beautiful, and according
to some strange social rule, when we were all together we looked even hotter as a trio.

"What's with you and the Dr. Pepper?" Sarah asked.

"Well, I kind of made promises to a boy..."

Their eyes gleamed at the mystery in my words. I quickly filled them in on the latest scoop.

"I don't know what you're doing here with us then," Jess said. "Sean obviously cares about you. I
wouldn't be wasting my time here trying to attract some random guy."

As if on cue, two muscular guys plopped down next to us. Correction: two random guys. "How're you
doing, ladies?" one of them said flirtatiously. They were sort of cute.

"Hello to you too." Sarah flashed her famous the-game-is-on smile. She extended a hand. "I'm Sarah."

We all introduced ourselves and in no time I had discovered that these two boys were the type I usually
dated. They were outgoing, daring, slick, and provocative. We usually exchanged numbers and I'd
possibly date them once or twice afterwards, or if things went especially well we'd probably be making
out on the beach later into the night. That was less likely though. I was mainly dating for the fun of
meeting new people, and anything that suggested more I tried to steer away from. Kissing gave people
the wrong idea that I wanted to be tied down.

I thought of Sean naturally. He was much more serious and quieter, but somehow it felt very intense
when we were together.

"You're right, I really shouldn't be here," I piped up. The two new guys looked at me in surprise.

Jess encouraged me with a grin. "You call him now, girl."

"It's nice seeing you both." I gave Jess and Sarah hugs, then I stood up without giving the new guys a
glance.

"Never mind her," I heard Sarah purring as I walked away. "We're here to stay."

=================

Chapter 8 The photo albums and the easy part

Flora

"I was a little surprised when you called me," Sean said, steering his car smoothly. "It's only nine thirty.
Surely the party just started?"

"Yes, but I've decided it's not very fun going to a party," I said, sneaking a peek at his chiseled jawline,
"when I can be sitting in your car instead."

"Oh. Now I'm under the pressure of being more fun than a college beach party."

I laughed. "Don't worry. You already are." My dear god, this was the first time I sat in Sean Foster's car
alone! I loved watching him drive.

"Shall I just take you back to your house?" he asked. "Or...maybe you want to do something together?"

"Well, I called early, so I think I earned some more time with you. Plus I want to be rewarded for not
having a single drop of liquor tonight."

"Fair enough. Where would you like to go?"

I racked my brain for second date ideas.

Maybe we could go somewhere for food. No. I'm too jittery to eat.

See a movie? But we already did that and we won't be able to talk.

Wander the bookstore? Visit a gallery? Who am I kidding? Let's not pretend to be someone else. I wasn't
even sure how late these places stayed open since it was unfamiliar territory.

"Do you want to come to my place?" I took the bold way out. "My parents are still away."

I was aware of how that sounded the moment the words were out. He hesitated, obviously deciphering
if this was an invitation for sex.
"I'm not suggesting this to seduce you," I quickly added. "I just think it'd be nice to have someone in the
house with me. Most of the time

it's really empty." It was the truth, and the thought of going back alone on a Saturday night was a little
depressing. "We can just flip through the TV channel together or listen to some music."

"Sure," he agreed.

Two dates in one day. I was too lucky. I needed to donate some money to charity to keep my good
karma flowing.

***

Some time later, after showing him my very grand house, we had settled down in my room. It was in its
usual state of messiness, but I thought he'd know sooner or later and I assumed he would be cool with
it. On any given day, my room looked as if the storage room of Vogue had erupted like a volcano.
Clothes, shoes, cosmetics, beauty products were scattered everywhere.

"Meet my assets." I gestured, waving my arm around in a flourish.

"Wow. It's like a whole new world in here," he said, his tone more amused than sarcastic. "What interior
design style is this?"

"Minimalism. Can't you tell?" I eyed him with my chin up and he smiled just like I hoped.

I put on a CD recorded by Fishnets, which was our mutual friend Janet's band. They were talking about
items they would never wear and fishnets popped up in the conversation, which later turned into band
name as a joke. Janet sometimes wore a fishnet glove on her left forearm all the way up to the elbow,
which kind of rocked.

As Janet sang "go away before I do something horrible to your cat" with all the teenage angst she could
muster, I pulled out a photo album from my book shelf. I didn't really believe in digital photos, therefore
I always printed out the photos I took

on vacations.

"This is my family vacation in Fiji," I explained, cracking it open. Sean made all the appropriate noises of
interest and fascination, until I flipped to a new page and saw one of me lying in the sand next to Alex, a
random guy I met there. To be fair, throughout the vacation all we did was maybe rub sunscreen on
each other, but it seemed to suggest more on film. I quickly flipped to the next page where more Alexes
grinned at me. I could feel all the blood rushing to my face as I snapped it shut.

"It's okay. I didn't see that," Sean said calmly beside me.

I stood up. "This really isn't interesting to see. I mean, Fiji is just an island...with...lots of water
surrounding it."

Sean nodded. "Yes, I believe that's the definition of an island." I could see the teasing glint in his eyes,
which were the exact shade of blue as the lagoons in Fiji.

"I should show you the one where I went to cheerleading camp."
"That's something I've got to see," he said, being the cooperative gentleman he was.

My fingers paused over the album. Cheerleading camp...I didn't make any male friends there, did I? I
didn't think so.

Wait. Sandra's then-boyfriend visited and brought a friend, and we hit it off right away. We were strictly
platonic, of course, but maybe it didn't look so innocent in the photos. Maybe I could show him the ones
I took with Sarah and Jess, back in the days of St. Margaret's, my private girls' school life.

Oh no we had dances with St. John's.

I sighed without even knowing.

"Not safe, either?" Sean asked. I couldn't tell

if he was more turned off or entertained by my embarrassment. I was usually really good at dating, but
in front of him I was super uncool.

"Look. I have to be honest with you." I sat down next to him on the bed and met his eyes. "I have a lot of
friends, and at least half of them are guys. Most of the time they really are just friends."

"You don't need to explain, Flora."

"Do you really not care or are you just being passive-aggressive?"

I really should stop being so blunt. Sean blinked, then after a short pause he smiled. "I really don't care.
And that's before you met me, right?"

"Yes. Yes." I breathed a sigh of relief. "All of that is BS to me. Before Sean," I explained.

He grinned, now apparently entertained.

"Aha! There's a really safe one." I knew what to show him. I had a bunch of photos of me in my tutus as I
learned ballet very briefly in elementary school, and those were adorable.

"Seems like you've been beautiful all your life," he commented.

"Yeah, that's my one and only talent," I joked, but it was at least partially true. I really wasn't sure what I
was good at aside from shopping and applying nail polish with my left hand. In front of smart people I
always felt inadequate. "I bet you're beautiful all your life too," I said quickly to direct the attention
away from myself.

"Not really. I had braces in middle school, so you probably wouldn't have thought so," he said. I
refrained from telling him that even if he still had them, I'd still totally kiss him.

I turned the music up and basically we just chatted for a long time, until he said,

"Why do I have a feeling of déjà vu? Did I really spend two consecutive nights sitting in a bedroom alone
with you?"

Finally, Sean, now we're talking. I summoned my sultry spirit and ran my eyes slowly over his face. "Well,
I hope you've changed your mind about being just friends."
"Let's just see how it goes," he said, but I didn't miss the faint trace of suggestiveness in his tone.
"Although..." He paused, looking around and frowning with feigned disgust. "Seeing the state of this
room really pushed things in the wrong direction."

I laughed. "I just want you to see the real me, and see how imaginative and carefree I am."

"Yes." He nodded. "This room really leaves a lot to the imagination. Nothing seems to be in its usual
location."

"Yeah, it's a real battle everyday, trying to emerge as this." I gestured to myself.

"You've done a pretty good job." He looked at me, and his gaze had turned more intense. It was like a
switch was flicked on, and his eyes went from a calm lagoon to a bubbling jacuzzi. We stared at each
other and the kiss just fell into place.

It felt right. Destined. I had imagined kissing Sean Foster for many times in my head, but now I knew I
had been imagining wrong. He was much better in reality. Sexier, warmer, firmer, tastier, and the
pleasant boy scent from him pulled me in for more.

I kissed him hungrily, and as I got more daring, I pushed him down to the bed and pressed on top of him.
I could feel his chest muscles underneath my body and it was so erotic. Part of me was getting lost in his
kisses, and

part of my brain was running a news report about the fact that it happened. Sean Foster was really
kissing me, and boy, did he know how this worked!

Just when I was getting carried away, I felt him pushing me away.

"Wait."

"What? What's wrong?" I panicked instantly.

He reached behind him and pulled out a high heel. The Charlotte Olympia I just received and tried on
before the beach party. "I really can't concentrate with this digging into my back."

I giggled, snatching it away and tossing it on the floor. I shoved him back on the bed playfully, and he
had started to laugh. I felt his body shaking beneath me and I joined in. I laid my face against his chest,
half out of mortification and half out of giddy excitement. It somehow didn't ruin the moment but
instead brought us closer.

When he stopped laughing, he brushed a strand of my hair away from my face and lifted his head to kiss
me again. We got back to our passionate lip-lock, and this time without the distraction of my high heel,
it was even better. Sean may look a little reserved on the outside but his kisses were not. We continued
for a very long time, and when we stopped we were both breathing heavily.

"Wow," I gasped. "You are hands-down the best kisser I've ever met."

"I'll try not to think about how many people I have to beat to earn that title."

"Ouch. Not that many," I complained with a pout.

He looked at me silently for a second before he smiled. My heart just about stopped. He had the most
mesmerizing blue eyes and the sort of smile that could melt anyone, especially since he looked so
serious

at first glance. The contrast was amazing. It was like cracking open a door made of ice to find a garden of
blooming hydrangeas.

I walked him to the front door. He cupped my chin and kissed me again, this time a light peck. "Good
night."

"Okay," I whispered lamely.

"I'm really glad you called me."

"Me too."

It was funny how I didn't drink any alcohol tonight, but I felt so completely drunk. When he left I
collapsed onto my bed and replayed the kiss a hundred times.

I was smitten. I group messaged the girls Carmen, Janet and Sandra and reported the latest event with
the title we kissed, and they had to ask me who I was referring to. They were unbelievable!

***

The next morning I debated over waiting for him to call me or calling him, but I was never the kind of girl
to wait for a phone call so I decided to text him.

"Last night was fun. When can we do it again?" No. I sound like a one-night stand.

"I had a really great time. Next time I'll make sure no weapons are lying around the bed." Too
suggestive? Too clingy?

After much contemplating finally I decided on just saying "Good morning, handsome".

He called me right after I sent him the message.

"That was awfully polite of you, texting me just to say good morning."

"Yes, and to tell you you're handsome."

"Yes, that too. Thanks. What are you doing?'

"Nothing much, I just got up."

He told me he couldn't meet me, but then he gave me a very detailed schedule of what he had to do,
including a family lunch with grandparents, workout,

and studying. I liked how he told me everything instead of just saying he was busy. "But I'll see you at
school tomorrow?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

In the afternoon I hung out with my girlfriends, and they were half envious and half surprised that I got
my way with a guy again.
***

The following two weeks I didn't manage to arrange any date with Sean, but we tried catching each
other between classes and after school. If we didn't talk much during the day, he would call at night. It
was very predictable with him and I really liked that. After school we each had cheerleading and
basketball practices so we barely had time to go out for a sundae.

During this period of time, I went out twice with my friend Charles. We had dated a few times in the
past and were still friends, and whenever he visited from out of town I felt like being hospitable. I also
went for a quick bite with Raymond Corbett after practice one day when we bumped into each other.
Those hangouts were spontaneous and there was honestly nothing remotely romantic about them.
Aside from that, my parents were finally home and my brothers were back for the weekend so we spent
lots of time together.

Feeling like I needed to make it more solid with Sean, I stayed after school to watch him at basketball
practice one afternoon. I didn't want to look too sappy of course, so I begged Carmen to stay with me.
Carmen was reading Emily Brontë, but it was out of interest instead of obligation for class, which was
just so her. She was probably looking for a guy who would write her love letters with a quill.

Sean came

straight to me after the practice was over.

"Great, my shift is finally over." Carmen bolted right up after they exchanged hellos.

He smiled at me. "It's nice of you to come watch me play. I don't think I've had a girl sitting on the
bleachers waiting for me in a long time."

"What? I'm waiting for Jake," I joked. "Come on, half of the girls are here to watch you. I had to buy my
tickets at double the price from face value."

"I hope the performance didn't disappoint then."

I tilted my head, pretending to be critical. "Maybe if you wore less clothes..."

He laughed. "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you...do you want to go to the homecoming dance with
me?"

I breathed a mental sigh of relief. I thought I had to bring it up myself. A few months ago I had
summoned up enough courage to ask him to the spring dance, of which he replied with some lame
excuses along the lines of not being interested in dances. "I thought dances aren't really your thing?"

"Well, it's true. But I get the impression that you might want to go. Plus now I have someone in mind
that I'd like to dance with."

"Hmm...me too." My lips curled up.

"There're two catches though. One is that I'm a pretty bad dancer." He paused. "Unless we're slow-
dancing. Then maybe it won't be that obvious."

I smiled flirtatiously. "That's not a problem."

"Okay, the second one is my car is at the repair shop so I won't be able to pick you up. Do you mind just
meeting me at school?"

"No! We have to go together!" It was crucial to appear together. People needed to know that Sean was
my date. "Don't worry. I'll pick you up."

We agreed on meeting at his place. On the night of the dance I was once again thirty minutes late, but
since he was waiting at home I decided that it didn't count. As I drove toward him, I had a really hard
time keeping the smile off my face. It was always nice to wait for my date to show up at my door, but
somehow the idea of me picking up my Prince Charming from his natural habitat was as delicious as a
pumpkin pie.

I went up to the door and pressed the doorbell.

=================

Chapter 9 The dance

Sean

My sister Linda jumped from the couch when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!"

"That's for me."

"I know! I can't wait to meet your date!" She rushed down the entrance hall, feet padding loudly against
the hardwood floor. I tried to stop her but she beat me to the door and threw it open. "Hello!"

"Hi." There Flora was, looking like a celebrity in a slinky green dress. Not just gorgeous but sophisticated
too, like she was going to a movie premiere, while I was immaturely chasing around the house with my
kid sister.

Flora's eyes rested on Linda first. She extended a hand. "I'm Flora. You must be Linda."

My sister stood gaping at her, rooted to the spot like she just turned into stone. Flora was the opposite
of Medusa, however, with dark hair cascading down past her shoulders deliciously like a chocolate
fountain. Her hazel eyes appeared larger than usual, and behind them there seemed to be endless tales
of adventure. I couldn't look away either.

"Oh my God you're so pretty," Linda croaked, having finally found her voice.

Flora smiled. "Thank you. You're very pretty too!"

She flicked her gaze and our eyes met. I was sucked right into them, those sparkling ponds of excitement
and splendor.

"You look amazing," I said. My initial resolve of not getting involved with her had crumbled like soft
cookies when she confronted me at Raymond's party. At first it was just a major boost of ego, and I was
a shallow teenage guy after all. Having the most beautiful girl in school stare right at me and declare
that she couldn't stop thinking of me

was not something I could let slide easily.

It'd be much easier if she was just pretty. She was charmingly straightforward, and a phone call turned
into a coffee date into a car ride into a full-blown make out session. Now she was at my house, standing
in the foyer and radiating like a chandelier. I couldn't resist her even though my gut instinct told me that
she wasn't right for me.

She was too popular, too flirty, out-of-my-league and highly unstable.

"Do you want to sit down for a cup of tea?" Linda offered as if she was eighty. "Or maybe have a tour
around the house? I can totally take you!"

"Yes, I'd like that," Flora replied. "But I'm thinking I should say hi to your parents first."

"Of course, of course!" With that Linda dragged her away to the backyard, where my parents were
barbecuing hamburgers. Some of my dad's friends were coming over later.

I was relieved that at least my parents were better at hiding their astonishment as Flora introduced
herself. My dad glanced up from his grilling and grinned, said his hasty hi and warm welcomes, and
turned his eyes back to his precious burgers. He took his task at hand very seriously. My mom conversed
with Flora over the living room decor. I couldn't detect any trace of nervousness leaking out of Flora's
perfect composure.

"I noticed a piece of artwork hanging over the couch," Flora said as if she had been here lots of times.
She dressed like a Hollywood star but she was as chatty and confident as the red carpet show host. "Is
that by Murakami Takashi?"

I wasn't sure any of my friends knew who that

was, and the said artwork was only a poster of grinning flowers. My mom's eyes widened. "Yes it is. We
just got it." She was very proud about this recent purchase.

Flora nodded. "I like his work too. He collaborated with Louis Vuitton and designed some handbags.
That's how I know about him."

The two of them talked about handbags happily for a while, until my dad interrupted by asking if anyone
wanted a burger.

"I'll have one," Flora volunteered, and to my horror my dad handed it over right between the barbecue
clamps.

"Let me get you a plate," I offered, but Flora waved me off with a smile. I was pretty sure she wouldn't
want to get her hands dirty, but she took it with grace and started munching immediately.

"This is really good!" Her eyebrows rose in approval. "You make a mean burger, Mr. Foster."

"I know what I'm doing," my dad said.

"Would it make me look really greedy if I ask for another?" Flora asked. We were fully stacked and she
noticed, her eyes flicking over the bags of buns that were enough to feed at least two soccer teams.
She shared the second one with me as she kept up a comfortable chatter with my dad about sports and
my mom about animals, and as she wiped her hands on a napkin, she turned me and told me that she
almost wished we could stay here all night, and possibly have a beer.

Linda was acting ridiculously overexcited as she hung around Flora like her personal assistant, gushing
over her dress and makeup, and of course to live up to her perfect manners she had to go as far as
asking if she could look inside Flora's

purse.

"I'm not being a snoop. I just really want to know what high school girls carry around in their clutches,"
she said in a rush, eyes darting around like she was on crack. She would be going to Riverside High next
year and it was an impending fear for me.

"For real, Linda?" I glared at her. I turned to Flora and was just about to ask her to ignore this rude
request when she said no problem. She opened the clasp and handed over her tiny gold purse.

I hoped Linda didn't find a condom in there.

She fished out a lipstick and squealed. "Oh my god is this the new YSL lipstick? The limited edition?"

Flora arched an eyebrow. "Someone has been doing her homework on the latest beauty trends."

"My friends and I are all dying to get one by it's sold out everywhere. Where did you get yours?"

"You know what?" Flora picked up the lipstick and placed it in Linda's palm. "You can have it."

"Seriously?"

"Of course. I have so many of them sometimes I don't even remember what I have. I'm sure it'll be in
good hands."

The last thing Linda needed was more encouragement. She could be so unbelievable sometimes. "Can
you please come to my room and give me some pointers about my makeup collection?"

"Linda, we have to go," I said.

Flora smiled at me. A very pretty smile. "I don't mind." She excused herself and disappeared into Linda's
room, like a green butterfly flapping its exquisite wings and flying away.

As soon as she left my parents both turned to me and set free their barely conceived excitement.

"I'm impressed," my dad said, flipping over the

patty. "I don't know why we never see you home with girls."

My mom seconded her approval and asked me to invite her to dinner sometime. I nodded
noncommittally. To be fair I didn't exactly bring Flora home. She was only here to pick me up and say hi
but somehow she was stranded because no one could get enough of her.

The smell of barbecued meat filled the air as my parents tried to wring a confession out of me. They
were curious about exactly what kind of friend Flora was and how long we'd been seeing each other,
why I never mentioned her before and whether they'd see more of her. I could see a big cloud over their
heads and it read "where have you been hiding her all this time?"

When it seemed like a long time had passed, I headed to Linda's room to see if Flora was ready to go.

"...You're so nice..." my sister's voice drifted out. "I hope you can visit more often."

"Me too. But your brother has to like me," Flora said. My fist paused over the door and I stopped myself
from knocking. "We just started getting to know each other, and already I'm so crazy about him."

I waited for that moment of delighted embarrassment to pass before I knocked. "Can I have my date
back now?"

Linda flung open the door and I saw that Flora had been helping her put on makeup. "You should have
introduced us sooner," Linda said. "I like her so much!"

Flora winked. "There's nothing like bonding over mascara."

She stood up and we headed towards the living room. We were saying bye to my parents when out of
nowhere my dad suggested we take a photo together.

And you had to ask why I never bring girls home, dad. I wasn't five and getting ready for my first trick-or-
treating.

"What a great idea," Flora agreed as if my dad came up with a new approach to battle cancer. I
wondered where she stored all her enthusiasm. She tugged on my arm and led me over to where the
fireplace was, casually leaning against me. She glanced up at me and smiled before she turned back to
the camera.

That smile was more dazzling than the flash. I was suddenly glad we took that photo.

***

"Sorry that took so long," I said when we were seated in her Mercedes. It was already an hour and a half
into the dance.

"Actually I don't mind at all. I like your family and your sister is adorable."

"You're really cool. You didn't have to give Linda your lipstick, you know. She was just being bratty as
usual."

"I like giving it to her."

Flora stepped on the pedal hard and we thrust forward. I swore I could hear my neck snap. At the next
red light we stopped at the absolute last second.

"Whoa. Where did you get your driver's license?"

"What makes you think I have one?" Flora turned to me, and her face broke into a grin after seeing my
expression. "Gotcha. I'm fully licensed and extremely skilled. What's the fun in driving if you can't speed
a little? I bought my Silver for the gas pedal." Silver was the nickname of her beloved vehicle.

I smiled. "I think you mean the engine."

"Yes. Can you feel it?" She gunned the engine again. She held up her right hand and her voice dropped
dramatically. "Quality."

I laughed. "Yes,

and I have a spinal cord injury and a bruise on the side of my body to prove it."

She chuckled and slowed down slightly in my honor. I watched her steering the wheel recklessly and felt
myself falling fast. She was graceful but impulsive, considerate and headstrong all at the same time. It
was a little unreal, like a modern fairytale. Instead of a pumpkin carriage I was sitting inside a silver
Mercedes next to the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, who for some reason had decided that she was
crazy about me.

"So do your parents like me? I'm sure you talked about me while I was doing Linda's makeup," Flora
asked.

"Of course. You won everyone over completely."

She snuck a playful glance at me. "Oh? So does that include you? I think you're the toughest one to
please."

"Especially me."

She sighed. "That's great to hear."

***

Once at the gym we engaged ourselves in a slow dance immediately. We kept our pace regardless of the
music playing overhead, and Flora didn't seem to mind my lack of skills. She was soft and warm against
me, her hair tickling my face. I never knew dances were this interesting.

We might've danced through five or six numbers straight already when Dylan and his on-again-off-again
girlfriend Sydney swung by us. "Hey man, you've been hogging her all night," Dylan said. "Wanna switch
dance partners?"

"Sure," I said, but I felt Flora's arms tighten around the back of my neck.

"No, I don't want to switch," she said. "I'm not done with my partner yet."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Let's go somewhere else to puke," she said as she and Dylan

glided away.

"We can take a break if you want to dance with other people," I said.

Flora lifted her head and looked right at me. "I don't want to dance with anybody else. Unless you want
to."

"I don't either."

"Great." She smiled, resting her head back against my chest. I placed my chin against the top of her
head. She smelled lovely, like jasmines. I wished we were somewhere more private.
After a few more dances, we watched Sandra Jenkins and Raymond Corbett elected junior homecoming
king and queen again. Every year it was the same.

"It's funny how they're always crowned together," Flora remarked, "considering how much Sandy hates
Ray. It's the only thing that keeps her from being completely happy."

I really had no interest in the people on stage. My hand slid off her waist to take hold of hers, and Flora's
cool fingers curled around mine.

"How come you never run for homecoming queen?"

"I don't really need that title." She shrugged. "Besides, don't you think the crown looks really cheap? I
know the diamonds are fake but still, they could make some effort."

I smiled at her honesty. Apparently looking good ranked higher than some token of popularity in her
world, although she certainly looked the part of homecoming queen. Not to mention she was so much
hotter than Sandra was.

"Hey." Flora tugged on my hand and leaned in. "Do you want to take a walk outside and get some air?"

***

We strolled around the empty campus holding hands, until Flora had an epiphany and suggested that
we break into the locked swimming pool.

Breaking and

entering wasn't my specialty, but I only hesitated for one second. "Only if you promise you won't push
me into the pool."

"I promise. It's too cold now."

She led me to the pool and we climbed in over the fence. She pretended to swoon when I pulled her up
and remarked on how strong I was, fingers sliding over my biceps.

Thank god I worked on them the day before.

"Isn't it nice? Like our own private pool party," she said as we sat down near the water. Her eyes
sparkled in the night. She was stunning.

"It's very nice," I said, looking at her.

"So I guess you're not mad that I drag you away to isolated places all the time?"

"Actually I want to thank you. For waiting for me to come around."

"Ah, don't mention it." She gave a little careless wave. "You know I've only crushed on you for two years.
I got used to waiting for you. Not that I didn't keep myself busy," she added.

An image of all her guy friends flashed through my head. I knew Flora was very popular. Even Jake had
been out with her once. I knew about the rumors people said about her too, although I chose not to
believe any of it.
"This is probably uncool to ask," I said, "but are you still dating other people?"

"Define dating."

"Hanging out with a guy one-on-one."

"That's called dating?" She looked genuinely surprised. "In that case, yes, but they're just friends. We
might flirt a little, harmlessly, but that's it. Why, do you mind?"

Can I be so honest so early? I wondered and decided to be clear about it. "Yes, I do. I don't like it when
you go out with other

people, whatever you call it."

"Even if we're completely innocent?"

"Yes. I don't like to share."

She was silent for a second, then a sly glint presented itself in her eyes. "You mean like you and Janet?"

I didn't see that coming. I did hang out with Janet sometimes, but I had known her all my life and I
honestly thought of her as one of the guys. "Well, yes, but Janet and I grew up together. I've known her
since I was three...but if you don't like it I'll stop going out with her alone."

"No, I don't mind at all," she said generously.

At the risk of sounding like a control freak, I felt I had to say it in the beginning, just so she knew what
she was getting into. She had the right to choose whether I was the kind of person she wanted to
invested her time on. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of you being alone with another guy. I know I
don't have the right to ask, but if we were to become more...I want you to know how I feel and
hopefully you'll consider it."

All through this conversation she was smiling when I expected her to be a little pissed or even defensive.
She took her time, and eventually she said, "You know what? I think it's kind of sexy when you're all
serious and bossy."

She really knew how to make me feel embarrassed.

"I like how you said 'I don't like it when you go out with other people'," she continued, "and because I
really like you, I think I'll let you have your way on this one."

I stared at her, this beautiful and irresistible girl who kept saying she really liked me. "Okay, Flora. I'd
really like it if you could stop all your complicated social activities and from now on only date me."

She smiled. "As you wish. Wait, let me try it out." She gestured towards me as if introducing me to
someone. "This is Sean Foster, the guy I'm exclusively dating. Hmmm. I like how that sounds."

I laughed. "You really are wonderful. Crazy, but wonderful."

That was the moment when I passed the point of no return. The inevitable happened. I got involved
with Flora Morgan against all my better judgments, and it would lead to a lot of pain and misery later,
on my part. But let's not jump ahead.
We made out until the dance ended, then she drove me home. We kissed some more in the car. "Can I
see you tomorrow?" I asked, completely smitten, still holding her hand.

"Of course. You have to fill in all the blanks of my would-have-been dates."

"Movie tomorrow night?"

"Sure." She smiled and it lit up something inside me. This felt so different from all the so-called
relationships I had since I was twelve, and as I got out the car I thought of what she said before about
the possibility of us hitting it off.

I had never fallen so fast for a girl before. Our chemistry was undeniable, and I couldn't figure out why in
the world she had chosen me. I felt lightheaded and lucky.

=================

Chapter 10 The movie and The Cape

Flora

I gave the girls an update over tea Sunday afternoon.

Sandra popped a strawberry into her mouth. We were having cakes and she ordered a fruit bowl, which
was typical Sandra. "Dating exclusively? You agreed to that."

"Yes." I sighed, a dreamy one.

"You do understand that dating exclusively means you can't see Charles when he visits," Janet said.

"Charles who?" I flipped my hair for effect.

"Or ask the French exchange student out for a coffee, even though you've been flirting for half a term."
Carmen took a dainty sip of her Darjeeling.

"And no random flings when your family go on vacation during Christmas break," Sandra said. "You're
ready for all that?"

"All that, my friend, is behind me now. I'm happy to declare that I'm ready to go steady with Sean
Foster."

"Lucky guy," said Carmen. "I've never seen the commitment phobe so dedicated before."

"Poor guy," Sandra corrected. "You're a handful, Flora. I don't know how Sean's going to deal with all
your boy-craziness, this time directed only at him."

The tea took longer than expected, and I had to go back home and change from classy to sassy. Date
night with boyfriend required a whole different ensemble, needless to say, and when me and my leather
pencil skirt arrived half an hour late at the movie theater, Sean didn't seem especially pleased.

"Are you going to be late for every date?" was his first sentence. He was leaning against the wall, eyes
dark and piercing.

"Possibly." I tried to laugh it off. He didn't smile.

"Flora, we agreed to meet at five forty.

It's six twenty now. I almost thought you were going to stand me up."

"I'm sorry! But you know I'll never do that to you. You could have called."

"The thing is, I have. You were not answering."

"That's impossible." I fished out my phone and saw two missed calls and a message from The King. Oops.
I had changed his display name because that was how he felt like to me, someone cool, smart, and
slightly intimidating, who I was desperately trying to impress.

I was a little surprised at how stern he was, though. I wasn't used to guys being mad at me, but Sean
radiated an air of icy annoyance even though his tone was neutral. I immediately knew he wasn't the
kind of guy that would put up with anything and I had to try harder. I was, after all, the one who talked
him into this relationship, and I should be on my best behavior until he started to reciprocate my
feelings.

"Anyway, we missed the beginning of X-Men, so you might as well choose another," Sean said.

"I certainly will." I scanned the movies showing that night and my heart sank. There was nothing
remotely interesting. "I don't want to watch any of those."

"Fine. Do you want to eat?"

"No! I had tea with the girls and I'm too full to eat anything. Plus I'm really in the mood to see a movie
now. I want to hold hands in the dark!"

Sean smiled. Finally!

"Well if so you just have to choose one and live with it, and next time be punctual."

"I just want our date to be more spontaneous, you know? Not run by a tight schedule like in the military
service," I complained. "We

should be able to meet at a time we're both comfortable with, then choose a movie accordingly, instead
of being driven crazy by the screening times." I pouted.

"If you want to be spontaneous, please just spontaneously choose a movie or think of something else to
do. You can't be spontaneous when you're obviously picky with the choice of movies," Sean said calmly.
"And I just want to add I'm not comfortable with you showing up forty minutes late."

"Fine, fine. I said I'm sorry, ok? I can't believe you are giving me a hard time on our first date since we
agreed to go exclusive." Most of the other guys I had dated would just be grateful I showed up at all.

"What happened to finding me sexy when I'm bossy and demanding?" He crossed his arms, but I could
see he was trying not to smile.

"Actually, I still find you unbelievably sexy right now. I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," he relented. "Okay, maybe just a little."

I gasped. "Does that mean you won't hold my hand later?" I tugged at the edge of his sleeve and
mimicked the wide-eyed, innocent gaze of Puss in Boots.

"I'm thinking you need to let me do more than hold your hand in order to make it up to me."

"Ooh. You're bad."

He swung one arm around me. "Come on, I beg you. Just choose one."

I reluctantly picked out a random action movie although I already knew it was going to be bad. It was
every bit as bad as I had anticipated, but Sean held my hand so it was okay. This time the movie-
watching experience was much better than the last time. I still made

my brainless remarks during trailers, but Sean had smiled at each and every one of them. When the logo
of the film production company flashed on screen, he took this perfect opportunity to turn toward me
for a slow kiss.

"Now watch your movie," he whispered after he pulled away. The half of my face closer to him flamed.

How was I supposed to concentrate on the movie after that? All I could think about was Sean's lips
grazing against my earlobe and the warmth of his fingers between mine.

We shared some fries afterwards and I watched him wolf down his food. It was adorable the way he was
so contented with it, like he was having a bowl of truffle soup made by Guy Savoy instead of a three-
dollar hot dog.

"What do you want to do later?" I asked.

"Do you want to drive up to The Cape?"

"I'd love to!" I agreed like he was the next Isaac Newton and the idea was as original as the law of
universal gravitation.

There was an amazing view at The Cape, but it was really just an excuse to make out. The only view boys
were interested in was the color of our bra straps. I smiled to myself knowing exactly what Sandra would
say about this, that high school boys were so immature and lame, their idea of a perfect date was the
magic combo: movie, fast food, make out at The Cape. She would then finish off by bragging about her
own sophisticated date with Daniel the artist, where they went to some exhibition and gorged on all the
refined art. Gag.

On the way up Sean stopped to get us coffee, and when we were at the top, he killed the engine and
leaned over. To my surprise

he passed me and pushed open my side of the door.

He walked around the car to me and held out a hand. "I want to show you something."

I stared at him in surprise. He didn't want to make out in the car?

I grabbed my coffee with one hand, and he laced his fingers through the other. Both of my palms felt
equally warm. Sean led me away from the most popular lookout point, where several cars were already
parked.
"I know a very good spot to see the view," he said. I followed him in a daze. We did a five-minute hike up
a small hill, and as the trees cleared I sucked in my breath.

The city lights beneath sparkled like Swarovski crystals. Ruby red, amber orange, emerald green and
amethyst purple gems dotted the darkened land, flickering like flames. It was as if the lights were taking
turns to breathe.

"Spectacular," I said.

"I know."

We watched over the city in silence. I could hear the faint sound of people laughing. The night breeze
ruffled my hair, gentle as satin.

Sean sat down and gestured for me to join him. I shivered a little as I settled down in the grass, more out
of excitement than cold, but he took off his coat and draped it over me. It smelled of him, like clean
laundry and fresh air. I could tell he was a good guy just by picking up his scent.

I placed my head on his shoulder and sipped my latte, watching the lights blinking in a distance like
stars.

"Tell me something about yourself, Flora."

"You don't have to pretend to be interested, you know," I teased. "You can start kissing me already."

"Of course I have to pretend," he replied immediately, getting accustomed to my frequent outbursts.
"At least for five minutes. It's common courtesy."

I laughed.

"Seriously, though. I really like talking to you." He reached up to rub my head softly. "I think your sense
of humor is the sexiest thing about you. You're really witty."

I was a girl who had been called beautiful all my life. Suddenly there was this perfect guy who saw more
in me, who thought I was witty. It was so much better than being told I was hot, and I felt something
warm and fuzzy expanding in me.

"I can share with you a very fond memory of me riding a horse for the first time," I started, and as Sean
put his arm around me, I had a feeling this time it would really last.

If my life were made into a movie, this would be the part where I realized that things couldn't be so
smooth. Something bad was bound to happen soon, otherwise how were they supposed to fill ninety
more minutes?

But it was my life, and at the time I was blind and naive, and I didn't think for one minute that happiness
could be so short-lived.

=================

Chapter 11 The virginity issue

Flora
Ever since I moved myself in this giant pink bubble called Sean Foster's girlfriend, I had been feeling
giddy and energized. No one before him had the power to make me feel like I was drinking pink
champagne all the time.

Here are a few things I learned about him:

1. He really did study a lot, like every day on weekdays. In fact, he told me he was unavailable from
Monday to Thursday and that normal people don't date all the time.

2. He wasn't mysterious at all, true to his words. He told me everything about his schedule, which mainly
consisted of studying, more studying for the nerdy exams only he planned on taking, basketball
practices, workouts, some lame lab thing he was working on, his guy time, his family time, and dating
me (in that particular order, yes).

3. He let me check his cell phone although there wasn't anything remotely scandalous to see. He didn't
even sign up for any social media. When he took a call in front of me, he told me who it was after
hanging up.

4. He kept his promises (including very small ones like calling me in an hour), he was devoted, and he
acted distant toward girls who came on to him (which was rather admirable considering he was such a
hunk).

5. He let me plan our date and said he was fine with whatever I wanted to do. I decided the venues and
events since I was professional. He was always cooperative, even if I suggested aimlessly taking the
subway to see where we ended up.

6. In other words, he was a really good boyfriend.

7. He looked so hot when he slaved over his physics problems. I

loved watching people concentrate hard on the task at work, even if it was just painting toenails.

8. If you wanted to have a crush on a popular guy, he'd be the ideal choice. He was not your average
jock. He wasn't like Dylan and Jake who thought that every girl who talked to them wanted to offer
themselves to them in exchange of their autographs. Sean was decent.

9. That doesn't mean we didn't fight, but I'll talk about that some other time.

There were times when Sean wanted to hear me talk, and of course there were times when we were
purely primal. I noticed that he was uncomfortable with any form of PDA, but whenever we were alone
he was always intense.

"There's something I need to tell you." I pushed myself away from him slightly. We were tangled
together on my bed, getting busy as usual. His fingers were somewhere between my sweater and my
bra.

"Okay." He stopped himself from further action and looked back at me. His eyes were so clear. It was
blue-grayish and very pretty. I sometimes still couldn't believe that the cutest guy in school, or on the
whole East Coast, to be precise, was lying on my bed with his shirt off.

I struggled with my words and decided on the simple truth. "I'm not a virgin," I stated gravely.
Sean blinked and I could tell he was trying not to smile. "Is that it?"

"Yes. I think you should know."

"Okay." The edge of his eyes crinkled up.

I narrowed my eyes. "You already know, don't you?" I gasped. "Is that why you want to date me?"

"What?" Sean's eyes widened. "I haven't even thought about the whole virginity

thing until you brought it up. I don't care either way."

"Just so you know, I'm not going to have sex with you just because I've already done it. In fact, because
the first time was so awful I've decided to swear to abstinence."

He nodded. "I respect that."

"I mean it. I want to be upfront about it so you don't accuse me of being a tease."

He sighed. "Flora, I like you. I'm not dating you just so I can get laid."

"So you don't want to have sex with me?" I crossed my arms.

He smiled in amusement. "I want to have sex with you badly. I mean, badly. But if you want to wait, I
can wait. I wouldn't assume anything just because you've already done it."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I'd never pressure you into anything you don't feel comfortable doing. I might encourage
you to, though, and I can be very persuasive when I want to."

I chuckled. Sean always teased with a straight face, but he never failed to make me laugh. "Do you know
Max Powell? Quarterback two years above us?"

"Max Powell is a jerk."

"He is. We did it once at the back of his dad's RV. That's the only experience I had. It was very
unpleasant, and he told everyone about it." I studied his face. "I'm sure you've heard about it too."

"I don't keep track of gossips like that." He reached out a hand to gently stroke my hair, and there was
light of affection in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

I exhaled, and he pulled me closer to hug me. "I won't hurt you like that. You can take as long as you
need to trust me."

I nodded in his arms. His

skin was warm and sensual beneath my face. "Even if you need to wait for five years?" I challenged.

He smiled. "I don't think you can resist me for five years."

I laughed and we started kissing again. Good guys aren't supposed to be such powerful kissers. I really
didn't know how I could've hit jackpot.

***
One thing I know about guys is that they generally don't like clingy girls. I knew how important it was to
have personal space, not to mention I still had a very active social life with or without Sean, therefore
my days were filled to the brims with things to do and people to see. I refused to be the kind of girl who
ditched her friends once in a relationship, and whenever my parents were home I wanted to spend time
with them. I didn't necessarily want to include Sean because frankly I missed my family too much to
share.

All in all Sean and I didn't spend that much time together and we didn't even sit at the same table during
lunch, but whenever I wanted to meet him, he planned on doing homework. I could tell relationships
ranked low on his priorities and he wasn't that motivated in seeing me. When we did meet up, I tried my
best to plan the kind of date that would blow his mind.

So far, to name a few, we had been on a hot air balloon ride, played laser tag, and woken up at 4am to
watch the sunrise together on top of my building. It was an epic date. I prepared everything: a cashmere
blanket large enough for the two of us, mugs of steaming chocolates, a playlist of romantically-themed
songs that mentioned sun or sunrise, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon

champagne. Sean had stared at all of it in dazed wonder, either from lack of sleep or he was too touched
to respond. By the time the sun came up he had fallen asleep, and I reminded myself to prepare
espresso the next time.

I had also rescued him out of German class once by faking a note from the principal, being his savior.
German was his weakest subject. I guess language took a bit of natural-born talent and Sean's parents
forgot to order it for him. We snuck out of school and ended up having a wonderful time in the botanic
garden nearby.

In short, I made sure what we lacked in quantity, we made up for with quality.

One afternoon I met him at the coffee shop in the mall. This was Sean's solution to my being late every
time: to sit at a coffee shop, read and wait for me. He was seriously addicted to caffeine to the point of
being unhealthy.

I spotted him right away. He was sitting in the corner brooding over his laptop. The sight of him set my
face to goofy smile mode.

I pulled out a chair opposite from him.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Hi," he said. My heart faithfully skipped a beat for him.

"Hi, handsome. What are you reading?" I leaned over to peer at the screen. My mouth dropped open.

"CNN?" I looked again to make sure it wasn't a secret porn site disguised as CNN.

"I want to know what goes on in the world," he explained.

"That's why people have Twitter and Instagram, you know."

He smiled. "No thanks. I have no interest in knowing who got wasted at Raymond Corbett's last party."

I shook my head fondly. Sean could be really serious

sometimes, but he managed without being boring or weird. He had the brains of a nerd but the looks of
a bad boy, whatever that means, and the heart of a gentleman. He was the most amazing combination,
like a flying, flame-puffing unicorn that could speak.

"Do you want to order anything?" He stood up to get me a menu. He was as mature and sophisticated as
the dark roasted coffee he drank, I thought as I watched him stride across the room, dressed in a
sensible pair of chinos and a Henley shirt, looking effortlessly cool. I was like a lollipop; colorful, dazzling
on the outside but empty calories and artificial sweeteners on the inside.

What could I offer him? How could I impress him?

There was only one thing in the world I knew better than he did, and it was having fun.

Sean sat back down and handed me the menu.

My eyes skimmed the page. "6 dollars for a cup of latte? This is outrageous!"

"I'm paying, so don't worry," Sean said, completely missing the point.

"I'm just saying it's too much. There'd better be whiskey in it for the ridiculous price they're asking," I
said loudly, not realizing that the waiter had appeared beside me. I lifted my head and immediately
understood.

"So that's why the coffee's so expensive," I said without thinking. Our waiter could be an aspiring actor
for all I knew, and apparently an array of white teeth and a dimpled grin were included in the service
charge.

The waiter flashed a smile at me and I smiled back broadly. I ordered my latte, and after he left I turned
back to Sean. "Oh my gosh. Don't you think he is gorgeous?"

Honestly I was only speaking objectively, the way people talked about movie stars.

"You don't have to flirt with every gorgeous man you see," he said. His tone was light, but it was too
light, like he was deliberately keeping it that way. Only then did I start to notice that Sean wasn't over-
the-top happy with my careless remark.

"Come on, I was just being friendly. Besides, flirting is part of my charm." I put on my cutest pout. "You
like it, don't you?"

"I like it when you flirt with me," he clarified.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine." He nodded to show he didn't want to dwell on it, but I knew better.

I leaned over and put on a conspiratorial expression. "Hey, do you know how hot you are when you're
angry?" I whispered in an excited tone like I just discovered some hidden treasure. "Like so much hotter
than the waiter."

"Thanks."

"If you don't smile and forgive me, I'm going to kiss you right now and embarrass you."
He smiled, but I suspected he was still sulking.

Before we got together, I flirted with Jake and Dylan, two of his best friends quite ritually. I mean, they
were basketball players and I was a cheerleader, and it was almost weird if I didn't flirt with them, not to
mention Jake was a major flirt himself. I had decided to keep him solely as a buddy since he was too
much like myself, but still I thought some banter was acceptable. Since Sean, I quit all the harmless fun
with his teammates for the sake of him, but he was still not satisfied.

Whenever I sensed that we were on a verge of a fight, I always backed down instantly. Deep down I was
really afraid of irritating The King and losing him, and his impatience and annoyance with me would
make my heart contract in cold fear.

I playfully pushed the lid of his computer down. "Come on. Forget about that. Let's do something fun
tomorrow."

=================

Chapter 12 The body shot

Sean

Dating Flora was the single most overwhelming thing I had done in my life. She was exciting, mind-
numbing and intoxicating, just like the body shot she did off me. I tried to piece together the night and I
could only get fragmented memories like puzzles that didn't match up. Jake had his arms around
random girl A. Dylan was talking to random girl B and C. One of them told him that letterman jackets
aren't cool anymore, and the other was saying if he really wanted one they sell it at Gap.

The last memory I had of that night was lying shirtless on the pool table and the warmth of Flora's
tongue on my body, right between my navel and my belt buckle. She was licking a dash of salt off my
stomach, before taking a shot of tequila, then she sucked off a wedge of lime that I held between my
teeth.

Perhaps I should go back to earlier that day.

My friend Dylan was in an especially bad mood that afternoon as we were getting dressed in the locker
room.

"I'm never getting back with the psycho bitch from hell again."

Jake and I exchanged a look. "You mean like the last five times?" I asked. I was so sick of this rerun.
Dylan and Sydney had more drama between them than the soap operas Flora watched, all thrown
together.

"This time I really mean it," he said, dropping each word slowly. "Listen to this. She threw a huge fit last
week because I promised her we'd watch some movie together, then I went and saw it with my mom."

Jake and I both knew not to mess with Dylan's mom. Ever since his dad passed away a few years ago,
she was all he had left

for family and no one dared make fun of his "mommy issues". We liked her, though. She was a lawyer
and always let us play pool at their house, and she pretended that she didn't see all the beer cans.
"That's it?" Jake asked. "Just go and watch it again with Syd."

"No, that's just the prologue. At the game last Friday I let Diane wear my letterman jacket because I was
mad at Sydney, but we made up afterwards and I thought everything was fine again. I gave my jacket to
Sydney again, and this morning she gave me this."

Dylan yanked open his locker and took out a paper box. It was light blue with ribbons falling around it.
"There was also a card," Dylan said and shoved it in my face.

"Something for you to think about," I read.

Jake lifted the lid of the box. "What the-"

I peered at the content. It appeared to be filled with shredded fabric. I reached my fingers in and pulled
out a handful of what used to be Dylan's proudly owned jacket.

"She cut it with a pair of scissors because she doesn't want anyone else to ever wear it again."

"Just when I thought the story's getting old, Sydney managed to come up with something new to
surprise us," I said. I had always known Sydney was crazy, the bad kind. She was a year younger than us,
still a sophomore, and Dylan had told us it was lust at first sight. The moment she entered our school,
Dylan fought off all the leering seniors so that he could deliver his big confession of love, something
along the lines of you give me a boner every time I see you.

I don't know if it was the attitude or

the tattoos or getting detention for literally fighting for her, it somehow worked, and they had been
dating for a year already, although more often off than on.

A few months ago Dylan had shown up with a weird looking scar on his temple, and I had commented
on what a peculiar hickey it was, when he nonchalantly told me Sydney had stabbed him with a pen.
From his tone I gathered that domestic violence was something he lived and breathed.

"You really need to stop sticking it in crazy," Jake said. "I'd hate to see you on the evening news
someday."

Sydney would win the title of most likely to cut off boyfriend's package with scissors at graduation, no
doubt, but I knew better than to speak of her too negatively. It would just come back to bite me on the
butt. Two weeks later they would be back to double-dating me and Flora and haunt us with their
nauseating groping in public.

"Let's hang out at yours tonight," I said. Pool and beer was our solution to everything. Dylan gave me a
curt nod, and I went out to find my girlfriend.

"Let's go to a bar tonight!" Flora clutched the sleeve of my jacket. "Let me see if your fake id's any
good." She said it like it was a basic requirement for survival and was astonished that I didn't have one.
"So you have never been to a bar?"

"I want to save some things for later." I had done more sneaking around since knowing her than all my
previous seventeen years added together. So far I had broken into a swimming pool, cut a class, snuck
out of my house at four in the morning, and I didn't need an arrest to add on top.
"And I promised Dill I'd go to his house. He was pretty upset about the break up."

"You mean after the 8 billionth time, he still gets upset?" Flora shook her head. "But I'm not doing
anything tonight."

When Flora said she had an opening, it was like the hippest restaurant in town called you and said you
could have a seat right now instead of waiting for six months, like you originally planned. You take it and
don't ask questions. "Maybe later? He gets wasted very soon. I can meet you afterwards."

"Okay. I'll find something else to do. Maybe later I can go to Dill's and join you guys?"

"I don't think he'd want to see us together right now."

"Oh come on, Dill is my friend too. I can cheer him up much better than you can. I'm on to it." She
patted me on the chest before she left, leaving a trace of her jasmine perfume in the air.

***

We were pretty easy to please when it came to alcohol. Anything that made us drunk, we liked. The
quicker the better. Jake had his resources and he would often be the provider, and we usually took
whatever he could scrape up.

When Flora showed up, we were all half-drunk already. Alan was waving around the cue stick, hitting
anywhere but the balls. He hung out with us sometimes when he didn't have anything better to do, and
as his eyes refocused I could tell that something better came up.

Flora didn't come by herself. She was with a couple of cheerleaders from the rivaling school, and I wasn't
even surprised. Only my girlfriend could make friends with the ease of sending a friend request on line.
She knew the names of her doorman's

daughters, she had the phone number of the guy who sold us popcorns at the theater, and when we
went to a muffin shop near her place, the shop owner offered to name a new flavor she came up with
after her.

"You refuse to come to a bar, so I take the bar to you," Flora said to me, her eyes radiating lights like she
was a chipmunk on coke. She set up a roll of shot glasses at the edge of the pool table, asked Dylan to
get lemon, lime and salt and Jake to turn up the stereo, and the party jumped up several notches.

My friends were all transfixed, knowing we were skipping a few years ahead. A keg at a party used to be
our oasis, and we all made sure we were on good terms with Raymond Corbett so he didn't forget to
invite us. Warm beer and red plastic cups were too vulgar for Flora's taste. She taught us how to lick off
the salt, down the tequila and bite into the lemon, like a rite of passage.

The new girls' faces were a blur before I even took a good look. I wasn't a big fan of making small talk
with strangers, but never mind that. Three shots of drinks later we were all suddenly best friends, and I
suspected Dylan couldn't even remember Sydney's last name even if she was holding a knife to his
throat.

The lime. I remembered the lime.

After the tequila burned a tract down my throat, the lime tasted strangely juicy, sweet and foreign, like
something I'd never encountered before. Through glazed eyes, I located Flora and I thought, this felt
so...exotic. This felt like a wild night out in Ibiza instead of with my high school girlfriend. She was more
like an unpredictable

hot stranger. Her eyes were enormous and hypnotizing, and she was so beautiful she burned away every
shred of my sanity.

I was infatuated with her.

Amidst all the madness, I faintly realized I didn't really understand my girlfriend, even though I was
fascinated. She was like a wild, endangered species only seen on discovery channel, and when she was
in the flesh I didn't know what to do about her.

I watched her, and I failed to decide if this feeling of detachment came from the alcohol or from her.

***

A few days later Flora was in her room showing me everything she'd bought. After all the packages were
opened and laid carelessly across her bed, she started trying things on for me to see, asking me for
comments.

What comments could I possibly give? She looked great in all of them, and I had a lot more interest in
the body underneath.

"It's hideous, please take it off." I pretended to be stern. "All of it."

She chuckled. "I think I like this one best." She slipped on a red dress, the material falling wonderfully
around her curves. Red was definitely her color. "How was your day, by the way?"

I started to tell her about the lab project I was doing, but she cut me off. "Wait, let's take a photo
together. I'm feeling it."

She hopped on the bed next to me and held up her phone. I hated selfies.

"What's the occasion?" We weren't doing anything interesting.

She tilted her head to one side and grinned innocently. "I want you on my Facebook, so that other girls
know to stay away."

"I thought that's why we took the last fifteen photos."

"They

need a constant reminder." Flora gave me a quick peck. "I need to show the world you're mine."

"I am yours. I won't be able to get a date for the next fifty years, don't you worry." At least it was better
than cutting up my jacket. I let her post the photo, and I tried to start again about my day.

Flora nodded absently but I knew she wasn't even listening. Her fingers were flying over her phone. I cut
my story short because I knew it was not interesting enough to hold her attention.
I constantly felt pressured in making her feel excited, because I sensed that she got bored easily. Even
when we were going out with a crowd and enjoying ourselves, she would announce out of nowhere that
she'd like to change venue. There really wasn't a favorite hangout place for us, since Flora seldom dined
at the same restaurant twice.

"What do you want to do this weekend?" she asked.

"Can we go skating again? It was really fun the last time." I had been so proud when I came up with the
idea the last time, because Flora had skied but never ice-skated. She had been delighted with my choice
and I was glad that I could actually teach her something.

"Again? But we already did that."

I found it difficult to guess what Flora wanted and what she liked, as her interest kept changing. One day
she would suggest eagerly about us taking a golf course together, but by the time I brought it up at the
next conversation, she would have switched to scuba diving or aerobic boxing already.

"Let's go to a themed party," she said. "I have two invitations. One is Cast Away,

and we're supposed to dress like we're stranded on an island. I'm thinking I can just grab two large shells
and cover my breasts. Or we can go to The Hunger Games party. I know! We can party-hop! You should
just wrap yourself in a rag or something and throw on some nets, and we can tell people you're Finnick
Odair at the second party."

She was so excited I didn't know how to refuse. If it was up to me I wouldn't mind just seeing a DVD at
home, but with Flora it seemed to be the last resort if all else failed.

She received a million phone calls every night and I always got the busy tone. She sometimes accused
me of not spending time with her, but the truth was she clearly had a full schedule planned and she just
wanted me to fit in whatever time slot she had left. She joked rather than communicated. Whenever we
had a fight it usually ended in a heated make out session.

I never brought these topics up, but between her short attention span, her bursting social activities, her
scorching phone line, and the flirt gene in her DNA, I feared that something bad was bound to happen.

But put all that aside, I really liked Flora a lot. Most of the time I just sighed, gave in and accepted the
fact that I was just one of her many fans. "I don't like parties that much, but if that's what you want to
do, I-"

"Yay! Then it's decided! Oh, before I forgot, I got you something." She went over to the mountain of
shopping bags at the corner of her room, rummaged through it for a while before picking out a small
black paper bag. I only had limited fashion knowledge, but this one

I recognized.

On the bag it said Prada.

"Prada?" I asked in alarm.

"You know it? I'm so proud of you." Flora beamed. "Open it."
It was a keychain roughly in a heart shape, but the heart was metal with a lot of toothed gear, like the
inside of a clock.

"Is it too girly?" she asked worriedly.

"No, but this must have cost you a lot."

"Oh come on, this is the cheapest thing you can possibly find in the store." Flora rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, baby. It's just that I don't feel comfortable when you spend money-"

"Please. This is nothing to me. You should be glad that you have a rich girlfriend."

"I'm not dating you for your money, Flora."

"Don't hold my money against me. Just embrace it, okay?" Flora crossed her arms. Her beautiful face
hardened subtly. "Asking me not to spend money on you is like...you deliberately disfiguring yourself to
make sure I'm not dating you for your looks."

Huh? "That's a really bad example and doesn't make any sense. Besides, I know you're dating me for my
looks."

She nodded, her expression grave. "That's true. Your looks and nothing else. Come on, I mean to tell you
that you have my heart. I offer you the best two things I can give you." She paused dramatically before
holding out her arms. "Label, and love."

"That's not the best you can give me." I smirked. "I'll give you a hint. You can give me something that
starts with a b..."

"Sean, a baby?" She frowned, pretending not to get it. "We barely know each other. Let's not get ahead
of ourselves."

That part is true, I thought. We really don't know much about each other.

She threw me the best parties with a snap of her fingers, she gave me expensive gifts, she bought all of
us a round of caramel macchiato at Starbucks as she pleased, took me on the craziest dates...

But ungratefully, sometimes I worried.

How about five minutes of direct eye contact, quiet talk, and a hand-written card?

=================

Chapter 13 The fights

Flora

Physics makes a mean mistress. As the date of Sean's USAPhO approached threateningly like a comet
about to hit earth, I had begun to see less and less of him. Physics Olympiad was a phrase I never
thought would appear in my life before, but it was now making a frequent guest appearance. (Yes, I
know, how absurd.)
Sean abandoned me half the time for his studying sessions, and I tried to get used to the fact that I was
dating the hottest nerdjock in the universe. I constantly reminded myself to be understanding, that he
was a rare blend of intellect and physical ability and I should be proud of him, but it still frustrated me to
no end. To make matters worse, basketball season was around the same time, and alternating between
physics and basketball had left him with practically no free time.

After basketball practice one day, he and I chatted briefly before he announced he had to rush to the
library. Again. Since Wikipedia was invented I didn't know why anyone would need the library anymore,
aside from trying naughty things in there to add to the bucket list.

"I really want to spend more time with you," I whined. We had been dating for more than two months
and my love for him was going strong. "How about I go to the library with you?"

"No, I'd rather you don't. I'll call you later."

"Why not?"

He leaned in close. "Because I'm seeing this librarian behind your back and I don't want you to know."

"Very funny." I set my lips in a thin line.

"Come on, you know why. I can't concentrate with you beside me."

"I won't say a single word

to you. I'll just sit near you and read my own stuff." By my own stuff I meant Vogue. I almost never read
anything and I was proud of it.

"But you're distracting and I'd want to look at you. Besides, you'll be really bored." He patted my head.
"I'll call you after dinner."

I had come to acknowledge the fact that he stood his ground on certain things. I couldn't make him
spend time with me when he didn't want to, and he always hung up the phone first. Clingy is not sexy, I
told myself. I'm a strong independent woman and I have my own friends.

"Fine, fine," I said grouchily. "I'll go get a sundae."

Deep down I was getting more and more alarmed as I realized the power shift between us, as if the scale
of affection was tipping faster. I knew it was immature to care, but I wanted The King much more than
he wanted me.

I joined some other friends, Sandra, Jake, Dylan and Sydney (yes they were back together again to
double-date us, we'd done it and no, it wasn't pretty), as they drove off to their afternoon treat. I used
to like this sort of group gathering, but without Sean it just wasn't nearly as fun. Besides, they all liked to
tease me about being ditched which was annoying.

"So you're unable to drag your boy toy here with you?" Sandra started. I didn't understand why but she
always started her greetings with an insult and could somehow get away with it.

"He has to study for his physics exam." I couldn't believe myself how lame that sounded.
"Is that even normal? I mean, no time for a sundae?" Sydney said. Her eyes were innocent, but her lips
twitched

as if she was mocking me.

"Are you sure he's not cheating on you?" Dylan said, his arm around Sydney's shoulder. He was a serial
cheater himself and fancy he had the nerve to question Sean's integrity.

"Shut up." I dug in my sundae, the spoon clicking loudly against the glass. "Sean's actually going
somewhere with his life. Just wait till he invents something while the rest of us bag groceries." I was in
fact getting really tired of defending for my boyfriend, especially when I wanted to ask half of the same
questions myself.

"I thought you used to brag about how every boy is just a phone call away." Sandra just had to rub it in.
She was probably upset herself, because Daniel the artist wasn't here either. He was working in his so-
called studio and didn't want to be disturbed.

"You're so supportive, Flora," Jake said. "No wonder Sean's all 'Flora understands me' during practice
today." He and Dylan burst out laughing as if there was anything funny about that.

"Yes, that's me, the supportive girlfriend. Why don't you all just get off my case and enjoy your ice-
creams? When this stupid physics thing is over he'll be back to normal."

Inside I was positively fuming. These people were counting on me to pay the bill, yet they didn't even
have the decency to show me and my MasterCard some respect. It was a sign, however, that Sean really
had been neglecting me to the point of it being obvious.

And yes, now let's talk about the fights.

The first thing we fought about was my flirting (well, that's what he called it, anyway), the second was
that he refused to spend time with me, and lastly, it

was because I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that he found me stupid.

This mostly span off from fight scene two, when he said he couldn't go out because he had homework to
do.

"It's just an English paper." I was on the verge of tearing out my hair. "I finished mine in two hours. I
don't understand why you're still working on it after a week."

The said English paper was A Tale of Two Cities, and somehow Mr. Richardson had a way of knowing if
you watched the movie version (I knew because I tried) and instructed everyone to read the book. Sean
was supposed to write about Great Expectations for his class, but I forced him to read my book with me
nonetheless. We would read a chapter in turn and tell the other person about it on the phone before
sleep, which really was a brilliant idea if I do say so myself. Only someone as romantic as me could come
up with it.

"Flora, I told you school work is very important to me," he said in that patient but patronizing tone of his
which always irritated me instantly. "I need to get an A. Besides, I spent so much time reading your book
with you, I barely had time to read mine."
"You always get As! Aren't you top of our class already?" I couldn't believe this. I got a B- on my paper
and the comment 'insightful', and if I could achieve that in two hours then spending more time on it
would just be impractical.

"I want to get into a good university. With scholarship." He sighed. A good university meant MIT and
nothing else. "Not everyone has the kind of money your family does. We can't all just be carefree and
shop all the time."

"You

don't need to hold that against me." I folded my arms. "It's not my fault I can afford certain things."

"I'm just saying you're a very lucky girl, but I wish you'd respect that I sometimes have more important
things to do than go to the mall with you. Please don't hold that against me either."

"You're saying I don't have anything important to do." I could feel the rational side of me crumbling
away and the defensive side starting to surface. "And you're suggesting I can't get into a good college,
but I won't starve because my parents won't just let me die on the street."

He laughed. "Where did that come from? I never so much as hint you can't get into a good college,
because I think you can do whatever you want in life if you put your heart in it."

"I already put all my heart in getting the one thing I want in life," I retorted. "You." I meant what I said
but clearly he thought it was a joke.

"Getting me is the easiest thing you could've done, Flora." He laughed. "Come on. I hate to fight with
you. You're so funny you always crack me up."

"I'm not trying to be funny! I think you don't take me seriously. Obviously you think I'm a brainless silly
girl who's entertaining, but has no real goal in life and will end up miserable."

"No..." he said slowly, his smile disappearing as he sensed my mood. "I don't think you're brainless at
all."

"I wonder what you see in me! Am I just a dumb pretty cheerleader to you?"

"Of course not! I-"

"You're a hypocrite! You're dating me because I'm pretty, but you despise everything I do to stay pretty
such as shopping,

doing my makeup, going to salons and reading fashion magazines..." As I counted off my daily routine it
started to occur to me how frivolous these things were. "It takes a lot of maintenance to stay on top of
my game, you know."

"Hey, baby." Sean reached over to pull me in his arm. He stroked my hair softly, and I felt juvenile and
silly. "I never complain about having a super sexy and beautiful girlfriend, you know that. I have no
problem with you doing the things you like to do. I really just want you to be happy. All I'm saying is that
there're things that are important to me too. Surely you can understand?"
"I guess," I said stiffly. "But maybe you can hang out with me first, then write your paper after I go to
sleep or something." I was really half joking because staying up at night writing a paper seemed pretty
extreme.

"You think I haven't been doing that? I already shifted most of my homework to before sleep, after we
hang up the phone. I've been getting like four or five hours of sleep for about a week now," he said. "It's
just that sometimes even that's not enough, with the f=ma test coming up. If I have more time when this
is over, of course I want to be with you."

I stared at him. I always thought Sean didn't like talking on the phone very much, but as I searched his
face I saw he had dark circles under his beautiful blue eyes. How could I have missed it? Only then did I
notice how tired he looked. "Oh my god I feel so awful. I don't even know."

"So can I earn some sympathy now?"

"No wonder you look especially hot these days. You are sporting the haggard look with dark shadows." I
giggled as I kissed his cheek.

"Have some mercy, Flora."

"Fine, fine." I touched his face gently, then I smiled. "Let's go back to the part where you said I'm your
super sexy and beautiful girlfriend. I haven't been anyone's girlfriend in a long time."

"I'm grateful you're my super sexy and beautiful girlfriend." He kissed me. "And for the record, you're so
much more than that. I think you're intelligent, fun, interesting, crazy, you know, good crazy..." He
paused to kiss me after every adjective, until I had to stop him to begin another sizzling make out
session.

In the end, we always made up. We never let the fights get out of hand. But sometimes all the kisses in
the world could not erase the insecurity I had. I worshiped and admired my boyfriend for his
determination and knowing what he wanted, but at the same time the exact same thing intimidated me.

I was so afraid he would get tired of me.

=================

Chapter 14 The lie

Flora

I had dinner with Sean on Friday night. We had been together for three months and in my world it was
considered record-breaking. Three months! What a milestone! Three months was like a season, it meant
all my favorite designers in Paris would put up a new line, and I couldn't believe our relationship had
survived the whole winter. Sean lasted longer than my Mulberry Alexa bag! I knew better than to tell it
to his face, though; he wouldn't like it that I was comparing him to my it bag.

When we were having coffee after the meal, he took out a wrapped present and placed it on the table.

"I know I've been really busy lately and I just want to say I'm sorry, but you're an amazing girlfriend," he
said. "Thank you."
I loved presents! I didn't even think of getting him anything. I turned the box over in my hand, admiring
the rich dark ribbon around it. "I didn't know you can wrap gifts."

"Linda did it for me. Having a sister really comes in handy," he said. "I find it nice to have her around
sometimes, although the frequency is about once a year. I hope you like it."

"I'd definitely like anything you give me!" I tore open the wrapper in haste and saw he had given me a
beret. It was in a very distinct shade of cobalt blue and I recognized it immediately. It was the very same
one I had shown him in a page of Vogue.

"I'm not sure it's the same one," he said, "but this is the closest I can find. You have such great fashion
sense I thought I should just buy what you want instead of picking out something myself-"

"I love it! You're so sweet!" I rubbed the material gently between my fingers, turning it over to admire it
from a different angle.

He smiled, obviously relieved. I knew he thought it was a lot of pressure to buy me anything and I didn't
blame him.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," I said.

"That's fine. I just want to make it up to you."

Ever since he turned down my extravagant Christmas gift, a monogram duffel bag made by Louis
Vuitton, I had trouble guessing what he liked. However, there was something I knew I could always offer
him when the time was right.

My lips curled up in the seductive but not seedy way I'd been practicing to get right. "I have something
special planned, though."

He raised his eyebrows briefly and waited for my big announcement.

"Remember I told you before that my parents have a beach house? Well, no one's using it this weekend
and I think we can...you know...finally..." I was suddenly shy. Was there a more tactful way of
approaching this?

He stared at me silently for a second before he spoke. "Really? Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"Positive."

He smiled and it made cute creases on his face. "You have to be sure because once we're there, there's
no turning back. I won't be able to resist you."

"Mister, you're in big trouble if you resist me." We smiled at each other lovingly across the table. I was
so ready for it. I was so sure this time and I almost couldn't wait for it.

"Wait, this

weekend?" he asked. That was the beginning of all things unfortunate.

"Yes. We could go tomorrow evening. There's a fireplace, white sand outside, an outdoor Jacuzzi, a
kitchen with champagne..." I counted off my fingers.
"Flora, I'm sorry. I don't think I can. I have to take my f=ma test Sunday morning, remember?"

I froze. He couldn't be serious. "Yeah, well, I know, but that's Sunday morning." I laughed uneasily.
"Surely you don't need to study on Saturday?"

"I think I do," he said quietly. "And I'm really going to be very nervous the night before. I'm so sorry."

Ever seen the movie Carrie? No, not Carrie Bradshaw, but Stephen King's Carrie. She was standing on
stage being crowned prom queen when someone pulled a cruel prank on her. One second she was
smiling, the next she was drenched from head to toe with pig blood. That was how I felt at the moment.
"Are you seriously turning down sex for studying?" I hissed.

"Maybe we can meet Sunday afternoon?"

"It's so not the same if we meet on Sunday afternoon!" I was too enraged to bother about volume
control. "I can't believe you're turning me down for something as lame as USAPhO. I don't even know
what that stands for!"

All of my bottled frustration and hurt rolled out like a knocked-over can of marbles. I was so sick of Sean
rejecting me despite all my efforts. He should know better. There are some offers in life you just don't
refuse, and that was definitely one of them!

Sean continued to try to explain but I was too angry to listen. We left the restaurant in a foul mood, and
on the way back I could tell

he was beginning to lose his patience. "Flora, I can keep apologizing if you want me to, but you're not
listening to me anymore, so maybe we should just call it a night?"

Naturally that just made me madder. He was saying sorry but he didn't think he was wrong at all, and
now he wouldn't even try to comfort me. No one treats me like this, I thought bitterly, fighting back
angry tears. There was a sea of eligible bachelors out there yet I had to choose the only one who didn't
give a damn when I was upset.

I was honestly burning with rage. Heat dashed through my body like a wild dragon, and if I opened my
mouth I could probably spit fire, but I was afraid if I made a scene he would get mad too. Sean wasn't
like all the other boys I dated who let me have my way all the time.

"Please just take me home," I said with the most civilized tone I could muster. I was half hoping he
would just pull over and kiss me until I forgave him, but knowing Sean, I had better luck wishing for his
stupid test to be canceled due to alien attack.

He pulled up in front of my building and I turned to face him, hoping he would come up with something
nice to say.

"I'll speak with you when you're calmed down," he said, like I was a wounded, unreasonable child who
wasn't able to communicate.

I threw open the door and got out. "I'll do you a favor. Don't call me until your damn test is over!" With
that I slammed the door for theatrical effect.

I was so angry at him for not trying

harder to console me, and I was angry at myself for not yelling all the things I wanted to.

***

On Saturday Sean called me once, but when I didn't pick up, he gave up. I figured just as well. I was still
upset about the whole thing and if we talked we would've got into a huge fight, and I really didn't want
to be held responsible if his test fell flat. I was weak and pathetic for caring about him so much.

I imagined what Sandra would do in this kind of situation. Obviously she would feed the guy to the lions
if he didn't obey her every command. If I had a tenth of her guts I wouldn't just be sitting here sulking. I
didn't know if I could take any more of this nonsense. I was crazy about Sean, but not being able to
spend more time together and not being able to go out with other guys to distract me was beyond
frustrating.

In the evening, Raymond Corbett called. He had been calling me often lately, mainly for aimless chats.

Now Raymond was a pretty interesting character. He had been my friend for a long time and I sincerely
enjoyed his company. He was Mr. Nice Guy on the outside, friendly towards everyone, always throwing
the best crazy parties where everyone was invited, and he was involved in all the important stuffs like
student council.

He was the perpetual Prom King in public and vicious hater behind closed door. He had a problem with
everything and you could easily offend him just by wearing the wrong color or a haircut he didn't

approve. I kind of liked the fact he was that way as it made him more complex. He did excessive drinking
sometimes and would often call me when he was drunk and blabber the most hilarious things. His
parents didn't give an F about what he did as long as he produced a good report card.

Anyway whenever I wanted a good laugh I called Raymond, and Sean sort of knew this because he
would find my line busy, but I always hung up on Ray immediately after telling him The King had called.
Raymond thought I was an embarrassing sap when I was with Sean, but I didn't care.

"What are you doing home on a Saturday night?" Raymond slurred. I could tell he was half drunk
already.

"Nothing. Just sitting here and being angry at The King."

"Why? What happened?"

I groaned. "I don't want to get into it. It's so stupid."

"Why does Sean look so...worn out these days anyway?" Raymond asked. "Too much sex involved in
ruling Kingdom Flora?"

"You're gross, Ray. And no, our problem is definitely not that." More like he had three mistresses named
Einstein, Newton and Galileo.

"Well you wanna hang out? This is so creepy, you sitting home like a widow waiting for your dead
husband to come back from the Vietnam War," Raymond said. "I haven't talked to you in ages."

"Ray, we talked like three days ago."

"Yeah, but I mean a real heart-to-heart, in person. Remember how we got high together in summer?
That was epic."

I laughed, remembering. It was a mad night. "Ray, I can't have a heart-to-heart

with you getting high. You were simultaneously bawling your eyes out and giggling like crazy."

Thinking back, I kind of missed that. Those carefree days of just hanging out and doing silly things. If I did
something like that now Sean would probably disown me.

"Anyway, if you're not doing anything I can go to your place," Raymond suggested.

I pondered the idea. Of course this didn't qualify as a date in my opinion, but I did promise Sean I'd be
loyal as in not doing any one on one. But I was pretty mad at him, and I thought he should be
responsible for this. If it wasn't for him we'd be down at the beach house (getting undressed) already
and I wouldn't even be having this conversation.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought it was only fair if I did something for myself. If Sean
wasn't going to make me happy, the responsibility fell in my own hands. Maybe the tension between us
would ease after I cheered up.

"Come on, you used to be so spontaneous. You'd just hop on a cab and meet me," Raymond said. "Is
Sean still making you wear a chastity belt?"

"Fine, fine, you come over. But I have to warn you The King really isn't cool with this."

"I won't tell him, if that's what you're worried about. I doubt I'll remember anything tomorrow
morning." That was quite true, actually. When Raymond got wasted he seriously didn't remember
anything.

Raymond arrived with two six-packs. He set them down on my bedroom floor and cracked open the first
can as he carefully went through everyone in our class, like they were a deck of library index cards.

"Marisa looks like God had to rush out in the middle of photoshopping her left eye and never got back to
it." Crack.

"I wonder how Brittany's audition went for the Bride of Chucky." Crack.

"Whenever I see Mike in the cafeteria, he reminds me of an elephant strolling out for an afternoon
feed." Crack.

He commented between swigs of beer while I gasped and agreed. He brought out my mean, shallow
side, and I was amazed at how liberating it was to be like this sometimes. Sean never said anything bad
about people aside from an occasional joke about how horrible Sandra was. He was wonderful but
sometimes I needed a little goofy fun without worrying about what he thought of me.

After we finished the alcohol Raymond brought over, I took out the good stuff my dad stored in his
liquor cabinet.

"Flora, you're seriously one of the few cool people in our school," he said in a moment of soberness.

"You're just here for my good wine."

"Well, that is of course one of the many good qualities you have. But I do think you're alright."

"Gee, imagine getting a certificate of excellence from none other than the Prom King himself."

"Why are you with Sean anyway?" he asked suddenly.

"Why not? Hot people belong together. And I'm crazy about him." Just talking about Sean filled me with
pink bubbles. He was someone I was proud of. He may not be spontaneous and irresponsibly fun, but he
was perfect the way he was.

"But he's so uptight."

"Sean's not uptight. He has principles, that's all."

Raymond shrugged.

"He's decent. I'm sure that's a word you're unfamiliar with-"

I felt my phone buzz. The sound was so muffled I was surprised I heard it at all. I fumbled for it and saw
that it was Sean. Without thinking I picked up.

"Hi there, King Sean." I giggled.

"Are you drunk?"

"No, no. No." I shook my head as I answered. "Far from it."

"Look, I want to see you."

"I thought you were studying."

"I was, but...Can I go over to your place?"

Suddenly I was popular again. "No, you can't." Wait...that sounds too strange. "I'm out...with Sarah and
Jessica."

He paused. "You're out. Really?"

"Yes. I need to blow off some steam."

Another short pause. It could've been longer, but my head was starting to spin. "Okay. Will you call me
when you get back?"

"Yeah, sure. Good luck with your exam tomorrow!" I hung up.

I picked up a half-empty can of beer and downed the content. I thought we were okay again, me and
Sean. I felt much better. Maybe I'd be ready to forgive him when morning came.

When Raymond was pretty much incoherent, I walked with him downstairs. He gave me a bear hug, and
before he pulled away he tried to plant a clammy kiss on my lips. I dodged and he got the side of my
mouth.
I didn't think much of it. He got very touchy-feely sometimes, and I bet he did it out of reflex, mistaking
me for one of his dates. He probably forgot who I was at the moment and he would most certainly
forget everything in the morning, like one of those MIB guys erased his memory with a neurolyser.

I patted his back. "You be safe."

"We should do it again sometime." He pointed a wobbly finger at me.

"Definitely."

I watched him struggle to walk in a straight line, but at least he was heading towards the right direction.
I went back to my room, and I completely forgot to call Sean before I fell asleep.

=================

Chapter 15 The "I love you"

Flora

Sean called me after his exam and I suggested lunch. I took some time getting ready and when he
appeared at my house, for once I didn't let him wait for long. I felt glorious since getting up. The air
tasted fresher, my hair shone brighter, and even the WiFi connection seemed to be working better.
Hanging out with Raymond turned out to be exactly what I needed, as it made me a lot less clingy and I
became more open-minded about the fight with Sean, which seemed pretty trivial now.

Sean barely said a word on the way to the restaurant. He looked as great as always, but I could see a
perfect blue storm forming behind his eyes. I figured he didn't do well on his exam and hoped he
wouldn't blame me for it.

"So, was the exam hard?" I inquired carefully.

"No."

"Do you think you did well?"

He did not answer right away. "Flora, did you have fun last night?"

"Me?" That was a weird change of subject. Apparently he didn't do well on his exam and wished to drop
the subject. "Yeah, I had an okay time."

"How's Sarah and Jess?"

"Oh, they're fine. I haven't seen them for some time so it's pretty good to see them." I stopped myself
from blabbering because I knew I was a terrible liar. Now was probably not a good time to tell Sean I
was with Raymond, and I fully planned on coming clean once we were back on track. Maybe when he
was in a better mood, like right before we had sex or something.

"I'd much rather spend last night with you," I added quickly.

"Sure you do."

We were silent for a few seconds, then I thought enough was enough.
"What's wrong with you?"

He heaved a sigh. "Flora, I can't do lunch like this." I watched him pull over to the side of the road, and
we were nowhere near the restaurant. "We have to talk."

"Is this about ditching me for your exam?" I asked. "I have decided to leave it at that."

He turned over to face me. "I did not ditch you. Ditching you is when we agree to do something then I
back out in the middle of it and leave you suddenly, which is something I never do."

"I thought you took physics this morning, not an English vocabulary test." I was surprised at how serious
he was and tried to lighten the mood.

"It's always about you, isn't it? I told you taking the test is really important to me, and you have to give
me a really hard time and make me feel guilty. If you wanted to do something, I would've supported
you."

"You didn't really support me when I wanted to buy that Burberry coat," I couldn't resist saying, hoping
to bring a smile to his face. The truth was Sean had never talked to me like that before, and I was getting
a little nervous. He was King to me after all, and deep down I was intimidated by him.

"Flora, quit trying to be cute. It's funny the way you twist my words when we're flirting, but I sure as hell
am not flirting with you now," he snapped.

I was too stunned to speak. I felt tears starting to well up at my eyes but I quickly blinked them away. I
could tell Sean was really angry this time, although his expression was blank and his voice even, and I
realized I didn't know how to handle him being this angry.

"I don't know

if I'll ever have the chance to have this discussion with you again, so I'm just going to say everything I've
wanted to tell you." His eyes flashed, and I found time to notice he still looked hotter than ever. "I think
you're a piece of work, Flora. You're self-centered and insensitive. It's challenging trying to keep up with
you everyday. I really tried. I let you decide what we do, what we eat, who we hang out with, and when
to meet, but apparently that's still not enough for you. I can't drop everything else just so we can be
together every second, and even if I did I doubt you'd be satisfied. I don't know what more you want
from me."

My brain couldn't process so much information at once. I just randomly picked a sentence and answered
to that. "I didn't ask you to drop everything!"

"Well, the minute I couldn't deliver, you just gave up on me right? You just have to punish me."

What did he mean by that? I lost my temper? I slammed his car door? I didn't answer some of his calls
and forgot to call him back? "I'm sorry I forgot to call you back yesterday, but it wasn't deliberate," I said
carefully.

"Well, that's just one of many things. I'd never have forgotten to call you. When you have more
interesting things to do you don't care less about me, but if you're bored I just have to show up
instantly. I think you're just really selfish."
"How can you say that? I care about you above everything else!" My hand clutched the edge of my seat
tightly. "I more than care about you, actually. I love you!"

I hadn't planned on saying that, but in a moment of panic attack

I said it and realized it was true. "I love you," I repeated.

Sean's jaw clenched. "You don't love me, Flora. All through life everyone around you spoiled you and
you're just really in love with yourself."

That was just uncalled for. When I imagined myself saying I love you to another person, I kind of
expected that person to do one of the following:

a. Say I love you too

b. Say thank you

c. Smile

d. Tactfully avoid the question by kissing me

Never would I expect that person to lash out at me about me being in love with myself. I had never told
anyone the magic words before, but Sean disregarded it just like he did everything else: the gifts I gave
him, the date I planned, the invitation to my parents' beach house, and my sincere heartfelt confession
of love.

My hurt and confusion smoldered and erupted into anger. "What's your problem?"

"You don't take this relationship seriously. I'm really disappointed in you," he said, each word dropping
with weight on my heart, crushing me. I didn't know why he was doing this to me. He was deliberately
hurting me.

"I'm really disappointed in you too! And for the record, I put a lot of effort in this relationship and I'm
sorry you find it challenging to be with me. I decide the dating agenda because you sure can't come up
with anything fun to do, and funny how you never complained about it before." I took a deep breath.
"You know what? I didn't beg you to go out with me. If you're so unhappy in this relationship maybe we
should just break up."

I said it out of spite, of course. It seemed to finally snap Sean out of whatever drug he was on at the
moment and he stopped his ceaseless ranting.

He was silent for a few long seconds as I waited for him to calm down. Then he said, "Yes, maybe we
should."

I stared at him. I must have heard wrong.

He stared back at me with total control of his emotion like the king he was, and I knew he meant it. My
heart stopped. For once it wasn't because of how cute he was.

"Fine." Too stunned to react, I replied out of reflex. I got out of his car and slammed the door again, as
this seemed to be how we ended every conversation lately. It was not until I was standing in the cold
winter air that I found I had tears streaming down my face.
=================

Chapter 16 The worst fear

Sean

The image of Flora tearfully slamming the door in my face would haunt me for many months to come. I
had handled that awfully, and we were broken up before I even told her the real reason. I was so angry I
let myself get sidetracked.

You cheated on me. You broke my heart.

Eight simple words. Would it hurt more to say it out loud? The words wormed their way through the
silence in the car, then started buzzing and flapping like the wings of an insect. You lied. You cheated.
You hurt me. I watched Flora stomping away and for a brief moment I thought of stopping her.

I don't want to break up, I begged at her retreating figure, but I was too proud for that. She was wearing
red, my favorite color on her, and like a flame going out she vanished from my eyes and out of my life.

Why did I have to see it? I wished I never knew. I wished I could backtrack to the night before, and I
would stay home and convince myself that I was just being paranoid, that Flora was really out with her
girlfriends. I knew I couldn't, however, because this is the way relationships are.

When do you know that you lost someone?

You just know.

It was the perturbing way she refused to answer my calls. How she insisted on a Cold War when she was
usually eager to get past any fight. The way she giggled and slurred into the phone, drunk without
question, and how the familiar echo in her room and the stillness in the background gave her away. I
had known right away she was at home.

I had told myself to let it go, but half an hour later I was parking

my car close to her building, and that was when I realized how creepy I was acting with my stakeout act.
I wasn't like this. I always gave my girlfriend the benefit of doubt, but on that fateful night I chose to
trust my gut instinct.

I had sat behind the steering wheel and stared at the front door to her building, pondering about my
next move, scared to face what I would find. Should I go up and ring her doorbell? Should I forget it and
go back?

I called her again. She didn't pick up.

Then it happened. I saw Flora floating down the flight of stairs to her building, accompanied by Raymond
Corbett. They were both wasted. They could barely walk as they staggered down the steps, clutching
their sides and laughing like they were having a private party.

It unfolded before my eyes slowly and deliberately. I was destined to see this, to find out like this.
I knew they had been calling each other a lot but I never really suspected she was cheating on me. She
told me he was fun and hilarious, and I understood the subtext. He was the complete opposite of me
and he was able to offer her what I couldn't.

But I'm a good boyfriend, I found myself bargaining. I tried my best and still I wasn't good enough for
her.

Raymond hugged her. He kissed her. Flora smiled. She looked as beautiful as she always did, but at the
moment it wasn't for me.

I sat there unable to drive away, long after she had gone back up. My fingers ached from gripping too
tightly onto the steering wheel. The oxygen in the car was sucked out and I was breathing too hard. I
had to concentrate

on breathing so I could save myself from my thoughts.

I would try to pinpoint what I felt later on, but I couldn't come up with anything. Upset? Angry?
Shocked? Humiliated? Not really any of these. I only felt numbness. I felt nothingness, and this
nothingness was unbearably stifling.

I let her dazzle me, and this was what I got for not going with my better judgment. As unsettling as my
discovery was, for some reason I didn't find it unanticipated. Deep down I always knew this was going to
happen, from the first day I decided to go out with her. This was like my dog dying when I was in third
grade. This was like my granddad getting the diagnosis back from the doctor that he had a clogged
coronary artery.

This was my worst fear, confirmed.

I had driven home, only to wake up the next day feeling as if I had a bad dream that lingered over my
head. Initially I was upset that my physics exam had to clash with Flora's plan for us, but life was
unexpected, and I was truly glad I had something else to concentrate on. For three hours, anyway.
Sunday morning I focused completely on my exam and was relieved knowing that there was at least
something in life that I had total control over.

After the exam was over, I called Flora and told her I wanted to see her. She agreed, chirpy without a
tinge of guilt, and said she was ready to forgive me. Something soft in me vaporized, and all that was left
was cold and metal.

I didn't really want to end things with her. I offered her a chance to explain what was going on with
Raymond Corbett. She disappointed me again by lying to my face, although to be fair I wouldn't have
accepted any of her excuses.

I knew the right way to handle a situation like this. The mature way. I should confront her and talk it
over, but my epinephrine had surged and landed me in a classic fight or flight situation. Face it or run
away. I chose to run away and avoid further humiliation. I couldn't let her see how much she had
damaged me.

I didn't want to know how long it had been going on. I didn't want her to lie to me again. I didn't want to
find out how much our relationship had meant to her, and if Flora had loved me at all.
I wasn't sure if I loved her until now. I had never said it, and now that I lost her, an unwelcoming yet
prominent hollowness chewed its way around me. All the submerged feelings yesterday surfaced and I
felt upset and angry and humiliated and most of all exhausted.

I drove home and slept.

=================

Chapter 17 The heartless creature

Flora

I had disintegrated tearfully into a million shreds, like that one time I accidentally broke my mom's
crystal vase. If only my ruined day was as easy to replace as a crystal vase. I managed with great
difficulty to scrape up the broken pieces of myself, got up from the couch, pushed open the door
connecting the porch to watch the ocean.

The beach house would be lovely under normal circumstances. The waves lapped against the sand softly
like a chiffon dress, breaking and melting into tiny white bubbles. The fireplace in the living room was lit,
and there were cashmere blankets to wrap myself in when the temperature dropped at night. There
was, however, nothing remotely normal about the scene before me. The house was eerily silent, and I
was all alone.

I pulled out my phone and called Janet. "Jan, can you come to my beach house now?"

"What? Right now? I'm on a date with Brian. He's-"

"Please!! This is an emergency!" I wiped my tears away savagely. If I wasn't careful I'd break into
another hysterical wail, but I didn't want to scare Janet.

"Flora, are you crying?"

I sniffled. "No."

"You are. What happened?"

"Can you please ask Sandy and Carmen to come too? I don't want to repeat the story three times."

There was a pause on the other end. "I haven't seen Brian in two weeks," she said and sighed. "But sure,
we'll be there."

A short while later my closest three friends were gathered at my beach house for another emergency
meeting. I really should stop turning this into an annual event. This was a lot more serious than the Max

and the V-card incident, however, and as soon as I saw them I melted down. Watching their horrified
faces, I realized I'd never cried in front of them before.

Or perhaps it was because my Lancome mascara wasn't exactly waterproof and I looked like the Joker in
Batman.

"I just don't understand," I said in between hiccups. "I thought we were going great."
"Well, technically, you broke up with him," Sandra offered as a consolation. "He just agreed. So you can
still tell everyone you dumped him." In Sandra's world the first thing one had to clarify in a failed
relationship was who brought up the subject.

"I don't care who the dumper is! The point is I didn't want to break up but he did. And I'm just so
confused. Has he been unhappy this whole time?"

"Come on, Flora." Carmen patted me on the back, soothingly, like rocking a baby to sleep. "Forget about
him. You're broken up already and it really is meaningless trying to pick apart everything."

"It's not meaningless. I just really need to know if-if this whole happy couple's thing is my illusion, and I
let myself fall for this heartless creature. How could he suddenly blindside me like this and make me
question everything that happened between us!"

"Maybe he just really hates sex," Sandra said. We all ignored her.

"He said I'm spoiled and self-centered and insensitive," I whimpered. "I admit I can be like that
sometimes, but he never said anything! It's bad enough when the relationship is going stale and you
know it's coming, but to break up abruptly just makes it that much harder."

"I know," Carmen said,

although I seriously doubted she knew. The girl never had a boyfriend in her seventeen years of life. "I
know how hard it must be for you."

"Oh come on," Sandra said. "You only dated for three months. He turned out to be a real jerk but at
least you got out in time."

I flicked my gaze to Janet, willing her to differ. I knew Janet didn't want to take sides. She always said
she couldn't be the lawyer of two parties that had conflicting interests.

"Sean's not a cruel person," Janet said, "I have no idea why he freaked out like that. Maybe...never
mind."

"Maybe what?" I narrowed my eyes. I smelled bad news.

She chewed on her bottom lip like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. "Maybe he's been having
second thoughts. Sean's lazy about working on his relationships. He gives up easily."

"I can work for both of us," I said. "I can try harder. I can be a better girl-"

"Flora, can you be more pathetic?" Sandra cut in. "He probably blew his test and took it out on you.
What a loser."

"Sean would never do that," I said. "Blow his test, I mean. He's a genius on the way to a Nobel Prize."

Sandra made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat.

I turned my attention to Janet again. She was the mutual friend and it was her original sin. "Can you talk
to him?"

She stared back at me, a frown on her face that clearly said 'leave me out of it'.
"Now?" I pressed.

With a loud sigh, she picked up her phone. I listened to her cut right to the chase and ask him about our
break up. The phone conversation was extremely brief, but Janet was able to summarize

the following: "He said it's none of my business, he doesn't feel like talking about it, and then he asked
about you. Before I could say anything, he changed his mind and said he doesn't want to know." She
gave me a sympathetic smile, the kind doctors on TV always wore right after they said 'we tried our
best'.

I could feel a fresh supply of rage replacing my sorrow. "He's unbelievable! I'll call him myself!"

Sandra snatched my phone away from my hand.

"What are you doing, Sandy?"

"Flora, we all gave up on our dates tonight to support you. I mean, Janet gave up on being with Brian,
and I had to cancel with Dan, while Carmen..." She snuck a playful glance at Carmen before returning to
my phone. Her fingers were tapping furiously over the screen. "Well Carmen doesn't have to give up on
anything."

"Hey!" Carmen shoved her.

"My point is, I want our sacrifices to serve a purpose and I'm glad I'm here to save the last remaining
thing in your dead relationship. Your dignity." She tossed my phone back to me. "I deleted his number
and all the boring texts he sent you. He really needs to take a text class or something."

I gasped. "Sandra! How dare you!" I fumbled for my phone frantically and saw that it was a lost cause.
There were no more cute nerdy texts from Sean about biology trivia and how I was as unique to him as
the Holstein's spot patterns on a cow. "You're too bossy for your own good. Those are...those are...I
really like the texts he sent me!"

"Someday you'll learn to thank me and realize what a good friend I truly am."

"Yeah, Flora," Carmen

agreed. "Calling him won't change anything."

Sandra stared at me. Her gaze was harsh, but I could also see a thin veil of worry, like she was afraid I'd
get even more hurt than I was already. "You said I love you and he spat in your face. That would've done
it for me," she said.

The dark memory cut me like a lightsaber. She was right. How much lower could I possibly get? I was
already at ground level, staring up at him on his throne, worshiping him for three months, yet he didn't
hesitate for one second when he threw my love back at me. He didn't want it any more than he wanted
my gifts. Or my body, for that matter.

"I think my guardian angel must really be against premarital sex," I said. "The first time I had sex Max
broke up with me. This time I didn't even get that far. I only planned on doing it and suddenly I'm single
again."
They laughed, relieved that Flora Morgan was back. This was what I did all the time, after all. Making
them laugh. We all had our purposes in life. Carmen was there to sooth, Sandra to tell the truth, Janet to
analyze, and my job was to entertain. I told them I'd be back to my old dating routine in no time.

I didn't want them to worry. It was my responsibility to assure them that I was better, that they did a
good job of comforting me. After they left, I curled up in a ball on my bed. The truth was I felt like
Bridget Jones when she was listening to All by Myself in her PJ's, dumped and lonely, and I had no
intention of dating anyone.

I missed Sean with every shaky breath that I took. It wasn't hard to get his phone number back again,

but I stared at the screen for what felt like years before I started to type him a text.

"I'm sorry about everything. Forgive me. I miss you."

I should have been more supportive. I shouldn't have gotten mad at him for choosing to study. I should
be more sensitive to his feelings and be more reasonable-

"Goodbye, Flora."

I broke down in a fresh wave of tears. It was so unfair. I overreacted, yes, but I was only a teenage girl in
love for the first time. I was allowed to lose it sometimes, but The King had allowed me no room for
error. One strike and I was out. This was like being sentenced to death for stealing an apple.

For the rest of the night, I scrolled through my phone and examined every photo I had of him. Those
were the survivors of the raid by Sandra. We looked so happy. He was adorable and loving in all of them.
He didn't like the camera that much but apparently the camera adored him.

When did we start to go wrong?

I didn't need to dwell on it anymore. He said goodbye. I should be saying goodbye too instead of
marveling over how cute he was, and I knew everytime I looked at the photos they would mock me
again.

A part of our memory died with every photo I deleted, and I worked and cried until all I had left was the
one last text from him. It served as a reminder, under the display name of heartless creature.

***

For the next two weeks in school, I avoided him like the clearance sale. Everyone knew we broke up
since we were the power couple of Riverside High. I made sure my appearance was impeccable and I
proudly accepted

the title of the dumper, but at home my tears dropped like a snapped pearl necklace.

If my life were a movie this would be the part where I dyed my hair a different color, went on a journey
to Bali to cleanse my soul and find myself, and came back a new and improved person. In real life I
pulled myself together with a fat check from my parents and a burning hatred for Sean Foster. The hate
propelled me forward. If he were to beg for me to come back, I would laugh at him.
I was sorting through my locker one day after school when Sean walked up to me. This was our first
encounter after the breakup. My heart would've softened if he had looked a little disheveled, but no, he
was as confident and aloof as usual, like we were perfect strangers. In that instant I knew I hated all of
him, especially his composure which I used to adore.

"How can I be of assistance?" I asked coldly, trying to sound smart.

"I have been thinking a lot," he said. "There's something-"

"Flora, I heard you're single again." We were interrupted rudely by Liam Turner. Liam was a senior and
the captain of the basketball team, and one of the few people that Sean didn't like.

"I certainly am," I replied.

"Then maybe you want to go out with me?" he asked, smiling arrogantly like he was doing me a favor.

What kind of person would do this in front of the ex-boyfriend? Not to mention they were teammates.
Liam was clearly a douche. "Go fill out a form, Liam," I said. "There happens to be a line."

"Don't keep me waiting for too long. I'm graduating soon."

"I'll get back to you."

He laughed

as he walked away.

Sean turned his gaze to my face. "Don't go out with him, Flora."

He had the nerve to give me another command! "I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"Liam is exactly the kind of person that gives jocks a bad name," he insisted.

"Sean, you're in no position to interfere with what I do and who I date," I reminded him. We were no
longer together and he was still acting like he owned me. "You're not my boyfriend anymore. I can
finally breathe again."

He narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I'm tired of serving your highness and pretending to admire you when the truth is you bore me to tears.
I can't believe I wasted three months of my life on you."

He looked at me like I hit him.

"What do you want anyway?" I asked.

He wanted to say something but then he shut his mouth again. He reached into his backpack to take out
his keys, and I watched him as he unlatched the Prada heart keychain. I couldn't believe he still carried
it.

He held it out to me. "I want to give this back to you."

I stared at it for a second. It was my gift to him, and he didn't want it anymore. He didn't want my heart
anymore.
I grabbed it from his hand and strode to the nearest trash can. I threw it back to where it belonged, and
it made a dull sound when it landed. I walked back with my head held high. "There. All taken care of.
Anything else?"

There was a watery light of sadness in his eyes. "No. That's all. Just that...we have a lot of mutual friends
and I think we should try to be civilized around each other."

I laughed. "What makes you think I can't be civilized? I'll still cheer for you at your games and we can all
hang out in one big group."

Did he think I was emotionally immature? I could handle a break up just fine.

Two days later I started dating Liam Turner.

=================

Part 2 ◎ Chapter 18 The sanctuary

A brief word:

Part 2 is kind of a "detour", and I have considered leaving it out entirely. However, I think it's still
important for character development, so please be patient and bear with me as we get through this
part. (If you are eager for some Sean/Flora action, you can start from Part 3)

Some readers say they enjoyed it, but it has apparently made others disappointed and upset, so if that
happens to you, I apologize in advance. Thanks for reading!

***

Sean

After the charade with Flora was over, I retreated to a dark place of solitude where I studied harder than
ever before. Jake and Dylan congratulated me on making it onto Flora's list of trophy boyfriends and
made fun of me every chance they got. Ironically, it made me feel better. It made me think that the
whole thing was just something to laugh over.

The hardest part was probably that-to admit that we weren't special after all and our love was nowhere
near epic. It was just a typical high school relationship, and a cliché jock and cheerleader one, no less.

One Friday night my friends dragged me off to the bowling alley. I figured I could use some practice and
blow off some steam, as Flora would call it, although I always wondered about her constant need to
blow off steam as if she worked as a 911 operator.

Sydney and Lucia were there with us. They were both cheerleaders in their sophomore year. At the
moment Dylan was back with Sydney for the eighteen thousandth time. He claimed he was just dating
her for sex, but I knew he was way more into her than

he let on.

"Whoever loses buys the winner dinner," Dylan said before the game began. He was snaking his hand
under the back of Sydney's shirt, and I looked away. How they survived longer than Flora and me was a
mystery.
Objectively speaking Sydney was pretty hot, but it was in a really obvious way that screamed at you,
kind of like Megan Fox. Lucia had a mass of red hair and resembled a prettier version of the Scottish
heroine in the Disney cartoon Brave. They were both attractive girls. I liked bowling, Jake and Dylan
were my buddies, and it was Friday night. Everything spelled awesome, except it didn't.

I pictured Flora's glossy dark hair and exquisite features, her large almond eyes and delicate nose. She
could be passed as a European princess, although only when she didn't talk. I missed talking to her, but
by the time I decided to confront her, she had already moved on. She was clearly over me, and from
then on she blatantly flaunted her new relationships in my face.

Everytime I thought of her my stomach clenched. I thought the memory with her was supposed to fade,
but instead it just kept getting more vivid, until it grew fangs and claws, making me bleed in places no
one else could see.

I was half contemplating all this as we bowled and Lucia had climbed to the top of the chart. It was very
easy to guess she was a cheerleader by the way she skipped and yelled, not to mention she made up
bowling songs and rants for all of us. Her excitement was igniting the air and I could practically hear the
crackle.

She rolled the bowling ball down the lane and hit a perfect

strike. "Ten points for Gryffindor!" she screamed. Her imitation was pretty spot on.

What a happy person. I had always thought of Lucia as immature and silly, but it required little
brainpower being with her. I wondered how it'd be to date someone like that. Pretty and simple,
without fuss.

I hated myself for thinking of her that way.

While Lucia was winning, the rest of us had a real competition and our scores were tight, with Sydney
following closely behind. She had a precise but slightly weak throw, and as the game drew near to an
end it was clear she was going to lose. She knew this too and she was already asking Lucia what she
wanted to eat.

It was my turn to throw. The ball was heavy in my hand, like cold marble. I watched the pins at the end
of the lane. I could already imagine knocking them down all at once, and I could hear the crisp sound of
pins flying everywhere. I was on a roll and there was no stopping me.

I squared my shoulders and held the ball in front of my chest as I approached the foul line. I swung my
arm back, and I deliberately slid the ball into the gutters.

There was a second of stunned silence, then everyone laughed.

"That's a serious lack of sportsmanship," Dylan said. "And you call yourself an athlete."

"You're desperate." Jake chuckled. He seemed very interested in the turn of events. "Since when do you
need to secure a date this way?"

Lucia batted her eyelashes at me in an exaggerated cartoonish way, pretending to be bashful. "I didn't
know you have a thing for me, Sean." She laughed. "You know if you want to
take me to dinner, you can just ask."

"I don't want to give you the option to say no," I heard myself say. I had no idea what came over me. It
was an out-of-character impulse that I couldn't explain. At that moment I just knew I needed to lose so
that Lucia could distract me.

Before we started going out, I said straight to her that I didn't want anything serious. She agreed right
away as if it was the most logical thing in the world, like getting in a relationship never so much as
crossed her mind.

***

Hanging out with Lucia pretty much turned out to be what I expected. I liked how I didn't stress over her
thoughts, and I could call her up whenever I felt like it without her nagging me. I asked her out at the
very last second whenever I was free, and when she couldn't make it I didn't really care. It was just nice
to have someone to go to school events with and shut my friends up when they said I was still pining for
Flora.

Lucia's parents were separated. Her father worked in Austria, and Lucia lived with her mother and twin
sister Leslie. They didn't have finance problems, but because Lucia spent way more than she could
afford, in order to cut down on expenses she asked me to hang out at her house one evening. She kicked
my ass at playing video games and then invited me to look at stars in her bedroom.

"I remember going to a planetarium on a field trip in middle school, and it was so awesome," she said.
"So when I came home I turned my room into one." She ushered me to lie down on her bed and closed
the blinds, then she got down next to me and turned off the light.

"This

is amazing." The ceiling lit up as hundreds of fluorescent stars illuminated the room, and somewhere in
the far corner I made out a stream of silver that resembled the galaxy.

"Those are pretty much in the correct scale," Lucia said. "I fixed them up with the star atlas as reference,
but if you see something out of place you can correct me. I know you're some kind of science whiz or
something."

"Hardly. I like math and physics, but I don't know anything about astronomy. All I can say is the Big
Dipper looks about right to me. And look, you chose a particularly bright one to represent the Sirius."

"Good job! You recognize it. Looks like you paid attention in Earth Science class."

"That's all I know. But this really is impressive."

We lay there staring at the constellation in silence, and I heard the sound of silky, liquidly violin playing
in the distance, running on like a peaceful river.

"That's Leslie playing the violin, in case you're wondering."

"She's good."
"Good is an understatement," Lucia corrected. "She's obsessed with it. She practices three hours each
day and six hours on weekends, regardless of birthdays, vacation, exams and all that."

"I admire that kind of dedication."

"Yeah. That's why she played at Carnegie Hall."

As we chatted on and off my mind was really wandering. I was thinking why I was lying in dark looking at
stars with no doubt a very appealing girl, but I had no urge to touch her. I missed Flora at that instance.
If she was beside me we would be doing a lot more, even without the music and the Galaxy to set the
mood.

The

stars gradually lost the light they absorbed during the day. The room grew darker. We were silent and I
hoped Lucia wasn't waiting for me to make a move.

I sat up and turned on the light. "Shall we go out and grab some food?"

"Sure. Star-gazing is hunger-triggering," she agreed after a second.

I watched her combing her fingers through her mass of fiery red hair and tying it into a bun, and she
smiled at me. She was very cute. Also laid-back and hassle-free. I was so grateful for her company.

***

My so-called relationship with Lucia remained pretty much PG-13. She was more like a video games
buddy to me. We exchanged polite good night kisses once, and it brought me right back to my first time
and made me feel like a twelve-year-old again--awkward, hesitant, and I'd rather play Grand Theft Auto.

There were less sparks than a died-out cigarette on the side of the road. I thought of Flora the whole
time I was kissing Lucia, and it made me feel hollow and sad which was exactly not how a kiss should be.

I asked myself sometimes if I should put off dating a while longer, even if it was with someone as
agreeable as Lucia. One evening when I was over at her house, Leslie started having severe stomach
cramps. I ended up being alone with her because she insisted on asking Lucia to get her meds, even
though I offered to go to the pharmacy. I figured she thought her condition was her privacy so I did not
probe.

I retrieved a blanket and placed it on her. "Can I get you anything else?" I asked as Leslie curled up on
the sofa in a ball.

"No,

it's fine. I just need some rest."

"Okay. If this happens a lot, you should probably have it checked."

"I know, I'm planning on it. I'm lucky to have Lucia take care of me."

"Yes, she's very nice," I agreed out of reflex. I didn't try very hard to decipher Lucia at all and I didn't care
how nice she was, as long as she showed up looking good with a smile.
"She is. Which brings me to the question of what you're doing with her," Leslie said, completely out of
the blue.

"What do you mean?"

"You two don't really have much in common and Lucia told me you don't want it to get serious. Why
waste time with someone you're not into?" Her eyes were green like a pond, steady without a ripple. It
was like she could see right through my pretense and know that I wished I were somewhere else.

"We're still getting to know each other." I felt like I did something wrong and was receiving a lecture.
"We're just hanging out, and I'm very relaxed and happy around her."

"You're relaxed because you don't care about her."

I thought Leslie was shy, but the girl in front of me was anything but. That was probably the part where I
denied her accusations and got all defensive, but I couldn't because I knew it was true. "I just got over a
bad break up and I'm trying to keep things light," I said eventually.

Leslie was silent for a moment. I was suddenly nervous, like I was at a job interview and was waiting for
my boss to decide if she should hire me. She lowered her head and smiled. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to
offend you. It's just that Lucia is my sister and I don't want her to get hurt."

"It's

okay, I get it. It's nice of you to look out for her."

"Yes, and you're just using her to get over your ex."

I frowned. Surely I wasn't that awful? "It sounds really bad when you put it like that. I mean, I'm sure
Lucia understands."

"Maybe, but sometimes feelings can't be controlled."

"Has Lucia said something to you?"

Leslie didn't answer me directly. "She's my sister and I know her. You might think she's happy-go-lucky
but she's a lot more sentimental than you can imagine, and she tends to fall very hard. If you just want
to have fun, then she really isn't the one to turn to."

I turned the thought over in my head. Lucia sure didn't act like she was on the verge of falling for me. I
was pretty sure she liked going out with me too, and so far the tone of our dates was cheery and
unattached, pretty much ideal.

Would our harmless fling hurt Lucia eventually? I didn't even know her well enough to guess what her
take on this was. "I'll think about what you said."

"Sorry to be so nosy." She smiled sheepishly, and suddenly she was shy again.

"You don't have to apologize."

"So...what happened with your ex?" Leslie didn't even let me take a breath before she asked me the
question I'd like to dodge the most. "That's Flora Morgan right? You don't have to answer if you don't
want to."

"I don't even know where to start."

"If you want to talk about it, I'm a really good listener." Her eyes turned warmer, like a pond going
through winter and making it into spring.

I didn't really want to talk about it, but Leslie kept her

gaze on my face steadily. She would do very well in a staring contest, and I felt increasingly
uncomfortable under those penetrating green eyes of hers. I decided to talk about it vaguely and
stopped at that, but once I started talking, the silence from her propelled me to keep going. Her eyes
were sucking the words right out of me and I almost couldn't stop myself.

As I kept up my monodrama, I started to trust her. I wasn't afraid of Leslie. She was just a harmless,
meek sophomore, who had been very upfront during the whole interrogation, and she was outside of
our circle of friends. Who was she going to tell, anyway? The most Flora and her gang would say to her
was probably excuse me to get past her in the hallway.

I told her Flora cheated on me and I was nowhere near over her. I told her I cared about her more than I
admitted to anyone but I kept up a cool front, since having dated Flora accounted for something worth
bragging about already.

"I think I understand," she said after she let me went on for a few minutes without interrupting. "Flora
sounds really fun, and you were afraid of boring her. You thought you can make up for it by going along
with everything, but when she did what she did, you felt like you failed as a boyfriend. You didn't bring
up the cheating because you're afraid to hear what she had to say. You are hurt and humiliated."

I didn't expect her to come back with any worthwhile comment, but she amazed me by saying
everything right. Better than what I could ever put together.

She smiled before she continued. "Well, just so you know, most of the time it's not your problem. It's
not because you're not good enough. When cheaters cheat sometimes it's because they're insecure
themselves or they just like a new challenge. Personally I think it's more of a challenge to find a person
you like and try to work out the difficulties. Running to someone else is always easier, right?"

As she spoke I realized I really needed to talk to someone and that was probably all I needed in order to
move on. I could never say anything serious to the guys because all they wanted to know was how the
sex was, and I didn't want to talk to Janet because her position was awkward. Leslie did not judge me
and said all the things I needed to hear.

A load was lightened off my shoulder. It was as if I finally found my sanctuary.

=================

Chapter 19 The violin recital (1)

Sean
How do you break up with someone you're not even in a relationship with? Especially when the reason
is because you're afraid that person will fall in love with you?

Lucia was just someone I hung out with a couple of times and shared one lukewarm kiss with. I didn't
think a formal talk was in order, so I just started acting more and more distant so she wouldn't get any
wrong ideas. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I had only managed to earn myself a bad name.

"So what are you, a heartbreaker now?" Janet asked. "You got tired of Lucia even quicker than with
Flora."

"It's not like that." Janet was convinced that I was the bad guy in my previous relationship and I couldn't
be bothered to defend myself. I briefly explained what Leslie told me, but she was skeptical.

"I think Leslie should mind her own business. She barely even knows you. As long as you and Lucia are
both happy, I don't think it's so wrong to have a casual relationship."

I agreed with Leslie, however. I thought what I did was unethical, and I was glad she had the guts to
point it out to me. As time passed I still talked to her occasionally. I realized that what I was trying to do
with Lucia could be achieved better by talking to Leslie.

In a way I was still using her to get over my ex, but it was more socially acceptable with conversations,
and it wasn't entirely one-sided. When I wasn't pouring my heart out over Flora, she was telling me
fragments about herself.

She told me she missed her dad in Austria and she didn't talk much with her mom. She never had
sleepovers

because it would interfere with her violin practice, which was her top priority. She and Lucia were twins
but they were never close, and she didn't hang out with her sister's friends. Jake and Dylan intimidated
her. I assured her that even though they weren't boy scouts, they were nice enough guys. Leslie was
unconvinced.

She thought it was ridiculous when people talked about their dreams, tossing out ambitions wildly like "I
want to open a chain restaurant" or "I want to be an actress" without doing anything to push that goal.
They didn't work like she did and she understood about sacrifices. Playing at Carnegie Hall wasn't just
something to brag about. It was blood, sweat and tears, literally, and no one knew how much she had to
give up to get there.

After the friendship was established, we moved on to other things such as studying for the SAT together.
It was Leslie's suggestion. It struck me as strange that she was worrying about it so early, but it was nice
to meet a fellow nerd. All I wanted to do in the spring of junior year was to ace the SAT and I didn't mind
a partner.

Most of the time we studied quietly. I didn't feel the need to chat and I appreciated the silent company.

We were in the middle of solving math problems one day. Leslie was moving a little too much, flipping
her pages too fast, and when I glanced up, I saw her face was flushed.

"You have a hard time concentrating today," I said.

"It's because I'm going to have a violin recital next week. At the city concert hall."
I knew how much Leslie loved a public performance and I was excited for her. I said my

heartfelt congratulations.

"I'm really looking forward to it. Playing in my bedroom is fun, especially on a stormy, rainy night, but
the reason I practice so hard is so I can be heard." She blushed. "Does that sound narcissistic?"

I liked how Leslie was opinionated but self-conscious at the same time. She tried to speak her mind but
still she worried about what people thought of her. "You're the least narcissistic person I know of, plus
you really should be proud of yourself. When are you playing?"

She turned to rummage through her bag and pulled out a flyer. When she handed it to me, her blush
deepened.

A photo of her was printed on top. Her arms were thin and pale in the sleeveless black dress she wore,
which made her appear like a fragile china doll. Her red hair was eye-catching, a blaze of wildfire heating
up the glossy flyer.

I told her it was a nice photo and her head bowed deeper. "With a lot of Photoshop and soft focus, I
actually look sort of presentable," she muttered.

Leslie was insecure about the way she looked. She and Lucia were not identical twins, and while Lucia
loved her red hair, Leslie was more hesitant. She thought it was unbecoming and the color resembled an
orangutan.

"Don't put yourself down. You look great," I said honestly. "I'd like to hear you on stage."

Her head jerked and her eyes flicked to my face. "Really? You would come?"

"Of course."

Leslie smiled. "It's next Wednesday."

"Okay."

"Wednesday at seven pm," she reminded me again even though I already had the flyer.

"I won't forget

it," I assured her.

"Actually, I was thinking..." Leslie fidgeted. "I know this is out of line to ask, and you can totally say no if
you want to, but...I'd really like it if you can present a bouquet for me, you know, on stage, after the
concert." The rest of the sentence was barely above a whisper.

"No, Leslie," I said slowly. She looked so nervous asking me for such a small favor I couldn't resist teasing
her. "That's not out of line to ask. If you ask me to sing on stage that'd be out of line, but this is just too
easy. What kind of flowers do you like?"

Leslie looked up again and I could see her letting out a breath. "Thanks. I like roses." A grin spread across
her face. "Roses would be great."

***
On Saturday morning, Janet dropped by the house to chat. She picked up an apple from the counter and
chewed, crushing the fruit noisily between her teeth. "What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Take a wild guess."

"I don't need to guess. You're studying for the SAT. With Leslie."

"Don't ask me then if you already know."

"I feel like we haven't hung out in ages," she complained. "What's with you and Leslie anyway? Are you
really studying or is it a code name for something dirty?"

I laughed. "What's with you and the jealous girlfriend act? We really are studying, and you should too.
Isn't the test in two weeks?"

"Well, maybe your mind is on the test, but from a female's keen perspective, I'd say Leslie is definitely
into you." She munched on the apple loudly, and I couldn't tell if she was being serious.

"We're just study

partners, J."

"She's obviously using it as an excuse to get close to you, because studying is what you do." So she was
serious. "If you said you were an environmentalist you guys would probably be picking trash all over
town already."

"No, if I were an environmentalist I'd still be cramming crazy for the SAT."

"You know what I mean." She rolled her eyes. "Not that there's anything wrong with Leslie being
interested in you."

"She isn't. We just get along. I feel like I can say anything to her."

Janet stopped chewing. She swallowed and faced me squarely. "You can say anything to me too! I know
you only think of me as one of the guys, but it hurts my feelings when you don't confide in me
anymore."

"Come on, J. You're still my best friend." Janet didn't care that I had girlfriends, but she hated it when
her title of best friend was threatened. "It's just easier to talk to her because we're in different groups of
friends."

"Why? What is it that you have to talk about outside our group of friends?"

I exhaled. "Well, for example, Flora."

She widened her eyes. "Wow. I don't know you still need to talk about Flora. I thought you never want
to talk about it."

"Yes, not to you, because I thought you don't want to get involved in our drama?"

"Not if I know you need to talk about it so badly!" Her tone was indignant, like she just found out I
secretly beat up old people. "So she's willing to hear you go on and on about Flora? Not even your
guidance counselor wants to do that."
"I did not go on and on about Flora, it's only in the

beginning," I corrected, annoyed. "Then we move on to other things." It was just like Janet to complain
about me not telling her things when she had no patience to hear about it in the first place.

"So this is still purely platonic?"

"Yes, you of all people should understand. But I think it's pretty endearing of you to assume she's into
me just because we're studying together."

"I think it's endearing that you're so clueless." She shook her head. For some reason Janet always
thought she knew so much more about relationships than I did. She dated one doctor Brian and
suddenly she was the expert.

"Speaking of Leslie, are you doing anything next Wednesday? If you're free and want to hang out with
your best friend, we can go to her violin recital together," I said. "She's playing Dvořák. Not that it'd
mean anything to you."

"I know Dvořák, okay? I happen to be a musician myself," she said, then she put on a straight face.
"Perhaps I can give Leslie some pointers."

"Exactly. Besides, I need someone to wake me up and tell me when I can clap."

"Classical music?" she said with a skeptical frown and pretended to think it over. "Dead people's music
weighs down my soul and dampens my free spirit. It hurts my ability to create."

"Come on. We can be bored together and congratulate ourselves on having accomplished something
cultural."

"Okay. But only if we go get something nice to eat afterwards."

I didn't know anything about classical music, but on the night of the recital, Janet and I didn't fall asleep.
Leslie's performance was brilliant, judging from the deafening applause at the end. Her hair glistened
like ruby as she stood under the spotlight and bathed in her glory.

I handed her the bouquet of roses as promised. When she reached out her arms for the flowers, her
emerald green eyes held my gaze. They were intense and staring straight at me, like she was talking to
me.

I stood on stage a little longer than necessary because she didn't stop staring at me. For the first time
ever, I discovered that Leslie had an edge.

I couldn't explain it, but as she disappeared behind the curtains, I had the fleeting paranoia that if I
wasn't careful, she could cut me.

=================

Chapter 19 The violin recital (2)

Janet
Leslie gave quite the performance. When she was playing the violin, it didn't feel like she was playing it.
It was like an extended part of her body and the concerto launched at her fingertips, sailing out boldly
like a grand cruise ship.

The start was pensive, and slowly it gave way to a poignant middle part. The melody skipped on the
floor like colorful beads, bouncing off the stage, and later melted into a celebratory finale. I was
transformed to a dance, where it didn't end when she stopped playing. The notes hung in the air and in
my head.

Sean was only concerned about when we could leave and eat. He and I hung around the lobby after the
crowd had thinned, bickering good-naturedly as we waited for Leslie to come out.

"As a fellow musician, I really want to meet Leslie," I said. "Try to join in the conversation when we talk
about how music enriches our existences."

He snorted. "I feel really uncomfortable classifying you and Leslie into the same group."

I hit him on the shoulder. "I'm an aspiring singer/song writer. And you know what? At least my materials
are original. Leslie just plays whatever it was written on the music sheet. When you try to convert it, it's
like she sings at Karaoke."

He laughed. "Right. But she can probably play one of your songs with blindfold on, considering the level
of skills it requires."

Our banter went on for a little while in a silly manner. Sean knew nothing about music and he usually
ate up whatever I fed him, and classical music to him was an expedition without a map.

He cracked a stupid joke and

I playfully shoved him again. He fell back a few steps, laughing with his head tossed back. Out of the
corner of my eyes I glimpsed Leslie walking towards us, and I held up my arm to wave. In that split
second her face seemed to cloud over. When I looked again, she caught my eye and quickly smiled.

"Hey, that was amazing," Sean said as she neared. He didn't even see her until she was five steps behind
him. "I know you probably don't need to hear this from me, but just for the record I really enjoyed it."

"You were wonderful! It was so rich and powerful," I said.

Leslie smiled. It was a little strained, like it tired her. "Thanks. I didn't know you'd be bringing company."
She glanced at Sean, then her gaze switched to me and back at Sean.

"This is Janet. You probably know her already," Sean said. His tone was enthusiastic, but I meant judging
by Sean's standard. He was generally not a very enthusiastic person. "She has her own band and she's
really good."

"Hi," Leslie greeted tersely.

"Hey, I belong to the string family too." I put on my best amicable smile. There was something off with
Leslie. "I play the electric guitar."

She nodded. "Violins and guitars are very different."

She did not sound condescending, I told myself. I must have imagined it. Musicians are weird people,
after all.

"It was a success tonight," Sean said. "Do you want to go somewhere to celebrate? You can catch a ride
with me and Janet."

"Oh, I thought..." Leslie hesitated. She bit her lips. "Actually, you know what? I think I'm going to pass. I
just remembered

I need to go over something with my teacher."

"Really?" Sean asked with wide eyes. He sounded very surprised. "We can wait for you if you want."

"No, it's fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She smiled. Her gaze lingered on his face. "Thanks for coming."

Oh my god. I couldn't pretend not to see it anymore. This girl totally had something more planned and
she was hoping to spend the night with Sean. I was the unexpected factor that ruined everything. Sean
and I ended up going to eat alone when originally we meant to celebrate Leslie's big night for her.

"You don't think Leslie is unhappy to see me, do you?" I asked.

"No, of course not," Sean answered a little too quickly. "She said before that she really likes you."

"That's funny, considering I've never spoken a word to her before, and we didn't really go very far
tonight either." I took a bite into my greasy burger. "And the way she looked down on electric guitar..."

"I'm sure she didn't mean anything by that," he said. I suspected he noticed too, but Sean was very bad
at convincing me. "Maybe she was just very stressed about playing on stage and she felt overwhelmed."

"No, I think Leslie only wants you for herself. She was definitely not happy seeing that you brought a
girl."

"What girl?" Sean joked, avoiding the issue.

"Come on, you saw that. As soon as she knew I was going to hang around, she fled."

"Who cares what her problem is? We came to show our support and that part's accomplished," Sean
said, picking up his burger. "I treat you to some good food like I promised and you get

to hang with your best friend who you miss. Everybody's happy."

Not everybody. I knew someone was probably sulking backstage right now. I stuffed some fries in my
mouth and felt my phone buzz.

Flora called.

"Jan, I don't believe this. Sean has never given me flowers before, and now he goes off showering Leslie
Mayor with roses." Flora's voice was shaking slightly, sounding completely freaked out. "I feel so dizzy I
think I'm going to puke."

"What? How do you even know about it?"

She groaned. "Leslie posted a photo on Facebook of herself hugging a bouquet of roses. The caption
reads: an incredible night thanks to Sean Foster. Is that the creepiest thing you've ever heard or what?"

There. More proof. I could see why Flora would misunderstand, but I couldn't explain with Sean sitting
right next to me. "What's creepy is why you're even her Facebook friend," I said instead.

"I'm not, but I'm friends with Lucia, so when she posts comments I can see the photo. Do you know
anything about it?"

"It's not what you think. I'll tell you about it later."

"Okay, but I'll send you the photo for your reference." She hung up.

A minute later my screen lit up again and I saw a very dreamy-looking Leslie with her roses, as well as
the very misleading caption. She looked so in love there was no mistake about it.

"What's the crisis?" Sean asked. "You look stricken."

I debated mentally for a moment. He wouldn't be able to see it himself because he didn't even have an
account, but he should know about this.

"Here, see for yourself." I showed him the picture.

He leaned over to peer at the screen and smiled easily. "She looks nice."

"Nice? She looks in love, Sean."

"I admire your female's keen observation because I sure can't see it." He munched on. "I think she's just
happy about the recital."

"Aren't you even a little offended? She clearly means to make people think there's something romantic
going on."

"Offended? No, I'm not offended." Seriously Sean was so dense! "And it's not like she lied about
anything."

"This girl is good, Sean. You really should be careful." Suddenly a thought came to me like epiphany. "I
bet she faked the stomach cramps in the beginning so she could get you alone and talk you into
breaking it off with Lucia."

Sean stared at me like I was insane. He stopped chewing for a few seconds, then he took a long sip of his
coke. He set down the glass.

"Janet, please just eat your burger," he said finally.

=================

Chapter 20 The kiss (1)

Sean

After the recital, things winded down. Leslie was once again sweet and demure, and even though Janet
was convinced she had a crush on me, the signs weren't there anymore.
The nature of conversations between us couldn't be more innocent. There were never any suggestions
or any flirty remarks, and she never even paid me a compliment. We didn't call or text each other, and
when me met most of the time we talked about geometry.

I ignored Janet's opinion and continued to study with Leslie, and when her sixteenth birthday rolled
around, we had gotten to the point where conversations were no longer essential. The silence was
comfortable, yet whenever we talked, I felt like she understood me.

I was invited to her birthday party. To be exact it was hers and Lucia's, but judging from all the attention
Lucia got, there seemed to be only one birthday girl. The other one, forgotten and ignored, was standing
in a corner alone. I felt bad watching her and I made my way over.

"Are you having an okay time?"

She shrugged. "Nothing like feeling invisible at my own birthday party, right?"

I followed her gaze and saw that Lucia had jumped on top of the coffee table in the living room and was
dancing in a hot pink bra and jeans. A crowd had gathered around her.

"Well, all you need to do is get up there with her." I refrained from mentioning the bra because it
seemed inappropriate to say anything remotely provocative to Leslie.

She shook her head. "I'm just waiting for this to be over."

"If you'd rather be somewhere else, I can keep you company."

"Actually,

that'd be nice." She looked up at me. "But I probably can't leave my party altogether. Not that anyone
would care, but still. Maybe we can just go talk in the backyard?"

After that things spiraled out of control pretty fast, and I wasn't sure exactly what happened. There
were people in the backyard too, but it was a lot quieter and we could hear each other without shouting
over the music. We sat down, and at first we were just commenting on the party, then the conversation
slowly drifted towards how she envied Lucia sometimes and she felt lousy being compared to her sister
all her life.

I was in the middle of telling her that she was a very unique person, when out of nowhere she started to
cry. I completely panicked.

I could handle a girl being mad at me, and I could flirt when I was inspired, but crying always froze my
brain right on the spot. Whenever I fought with my sister Linda, as soon as she turned on the water
works I'd declare defeat right away. That was how she got the bigger bedroom, by the way.

I stammered some consolation along the lines of how great she was, that she and Lucia were different
people and there was no need for comparison.

"You're one of the sweetest people I know," I said. If I had known this would happen, I would've
rehearsed my lines. "You're considerate...and driven...and..."

"Being sweet and considerate isn't enough because boys still like pretty girls better," she muttered.
"That's not always true. And besides, I think you're pretty too." It wasn't a lie and I did think she was
kind of pretty, although not in a Flora-Morgan-obvious

way, but still I liked looking at her.

She seemed to cheer up a little bit and gave me a faint smile. "Do you really think so?"

"I never lie, Leslie. I really think you're pretty."

She smiled wider. Aha! That's what she wanted to hear.

"I really don't want to see you cry, Leslie. I know you hate the party but it's your birthday after all."

"Okay." She sniffled. "As the birthday girl, am I allowed to make a wish?"

"By all means."

Then she leaned in and kissed me.

I was so startled I didn't know how to react, and I may have jerked back after a second. I had seriously
never considered Leslie in a romantic way, and she was always so innocent and harmless I thought she
came off more like a pet rabbit.

"Leslie..."

Her eyes welled up instantly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Her face crumpled like a withering flower as
she got up to walk away.

I grabbed her arm out of reflex. "Wait. I was...you took me by surprise, that's all."

She looked at me briefly and stared down. The hint was too obvious and I really had no time to
deliberate. I lifted her chin and kissed her again, half confused and half thinking that was what I was
supposed to do.

***

That was how it started with Leslie, a typical "it just happened" beginning. At first I felt like I was pushed
into this relationship before I was ready. People saw us kissing at the party and pretty soon it was all
over school, and I didn't know how to explain without hurting her.

Not surprisingly, Janet offered me her theory of conspiracy about how Leslie deliberately conned me
into

this relationship with the right place and time carefully orchestrated.

"Have I not warned you that this is coming?" she said, a bold I-told-you-so etched on her face. "How
could you not know she likes you?"

"I generally don't assume people like me unless they make it clear. I don't want to be cocky about it."

"Not everyone is as blunt as Flora," Janet remarked. "Some are just more calculating."

"I don't think she's calculating."

"God you are naïve." Janet rolled her eyes. "So you kissed her because she cried? Was that like a pity
kiss?"

"I panicked, okay?"

"Flora really should cry more in front of you," she said dryly.

Why was she mentioning Flora again? I wished she would stop doing that.

"It's not entirely because of her tears," I said. "I felt something."

"A hard-on?"

"No." I glanced at her with annoyance. "I felt hope. Like it's something real."

Janet scoffed.

"I just thought maybe it could work, and I want to try." Most of my past girlfriends started out as instant
attraction and never seemed to get me anywhere. Just look at how the fireworks with Flora sizzled and
exploded in my face.

Janet shook her head, looking profound. "I really don't understand you kids these days. That's not a
good way to start a relationship, and Leslie is so not your type."

"You don't know my type," I said defensively.

"But I do," she said with irritating confidence.

"Leslie and I are good friends already, and there are qualities that I like about her."

Janet shrugged. "Are you interested in my opinion?"

"Not

in the least."

She offered anyway. "I think you deliberately pick someone who's the entire opposite of Flora. What you
really should be doing is sort things out with Flora, instead of whatever rebound thing you're doing."

"Thank you, Freud. That's enough therapy for today."

I felt contented being with Leslie, and a rare feeling of being much appreciated. Ever since we got
together, she had been very attentive to me and made it clear how important I was to her, and she was
very much interested in learning about me. If my relationship with Flora had been mostly physical, then
with Leslie it was definitely more verbal. She was great at expressing herself and understanding my
point.

I tried to make Janet see this but she didn't believe me.

"Sean, just because Flora is gorgeous and you have great chemistry does not mean it's not real," she
said. "Yes, she can be a little insensitive sometimes, and she's not as eloquent as Leslie is, but she cares
about you a lot in her own way. I think you're belittling your relationship with her by defining it as mere
physical attraction, when you know it was so much more than that."
I rubbed my palm over my eyes wearily. Janet didn't know that by deeming my last relationship
meaningless was the only way it could make me hurt less. It was human survival instinct.

"Can we stop talking about Flora? This is not about her."

"I just think it's such a shame that you guys broke up over one stupid fight about nothing. I can tell there
are unresolved feelings. I don't want to interfere, but Flora is really serious-" She stopped after seeing
the expression on my face. She held up her hands. "Okay. Backing off."

"Can you just tell me you're happy for me?"

"I am happy for you," Janet said unconvincingly. "I just wish your girlfriend was a little friendlier."

"She is friendly. Give her a chance."

"Whenever you bring her along, she always stays a step back and basically says nothing."

"Come on, that's because she finds our friends intimidating."

"Intimidating?" Janet raised her eyebrows. "Do we need to give her a balloon to convince her we're
nice?"

"See? That kind of attitude is exactly what scares her."

"Fine. Invite her to come with us to the beach this weekend, okay? I'll be on my best behavior."

=================

Chapter 20 The kiss (2)

Flora

After the breakup, Sean and I gradually started speaking to each other again, although I still hated him.
Our exchanges were mostly hostile.

At first it seemed like I was winning on the who-is-getting-over-the-other-sooner race, because while I
was dating my way through the senior class, Sean was dating nothing. But if it fazed him, he did a hell of
a job of hiding it.

"Look, Flora, it's hard to keep up with your weekly change. Why don't you draw up an annual report
instead and show us in a proper presentation," he would say, or

"Congratulations! Send me an invite when you decide to get married."

And when it came to Liam, who he described as gave jocks a bad name, he did not care anymore.
Instead of warning me about him, he told me that we were such a cute couple, then he made sarcastic
cooing noises.

During lunch one day Lucia timidly brought up the subject of Sean and asked the unnerving question of
would I mind terribly if she went out with him. I was appalled. Surely not everyone knew I loved Sean,
but still, if she had any common sense she'd know not to mess with me.
"Of course I wouldn't mind! Do whatever you like to him and don't forget to report back to me," I said
brightly with the tiniest dose of sarcasm.

It was completely lost on Lucia, of course. I had always known her to be dense and she sure didn't
disappoint. "Oh thank god. I know you're totally over him, but I just had to ask. But just so you know, he
told me he didn't want to be my boyfriend or anything."

"I say enjoy it while it lasts, then."

Lucia

gladly picked up her things and left, skipping away like I just handed over my lottery ticket, which was
pretty much how it felt like. I considered keeping her off the cheerleading squad next year. As captain
Sandra sure could find a way to handle it.

Summoned by my thoughts, Sandra appeared at that instance and sat down next to me.

"What's with the scowl?" She opened the lid of her salad. Honestly I thought her daily calorie intake was
too low to sustain her evil malicious energy. I briefly recounted the encounter.

"I can't believe she even needs to ask." Sandra understood me completely. "Do you need to pee on him
to mark your territory?"

"Right?" I sighed. "So I'm not an overly possessive lunatic?"

"Of course not. If I dated Sean, Lucia would need my permission just to ask him for a pen." I was glad
Sandra knew where I was coming from, although being an overly possessive lunatic herself, there was a
good chance she might be biased.

She chewed on her vegetables. "Shall we keep her off the squad next year? I think we can." She was
always mega supportive when it came to torturing people.

"That just went through my head," I said. "But I think we need her if we want to win the regionals."

"Hmmm. Don't worry. We'll think of something."

"This whole bowling scene and the not-getting-serious thing is so unlike him. The Sean Foster I know
wouldn't be going out with airheads just for fun. And what he did to get her to date him is so cheesy."

"He did a cheesy thing because Lucia is a cheesy person," Sandra remarked. "And isn't it nice to know
that

you influenced him somehow. Personally, I think he's just going through this phase to get distracted."

What Sandra said about Sean using Lucia to get distracted proved to be right. He only went out with
Lucia very briefly before he moved on, and when I learned about his new object of affection, any grudge
I had towards Lucia resolved.

Of all the people he could have chosen, he chose Lucia's twin sister Leslie! I was completely thrown.

"Come on, Leslie?" I hissed to Sandra one afternoon as we were browsing through the mall. The fact
that he was seeing Leslie upset me even more than I imagined.
"I think even Lucia took it better than you did," Sandra said. "You can't hold off Sean forever. It's not like
you haven't been dating."

"I may be going out with people but I haven't kissed anyone since Sean. My lips are going through a dry
spell."

She laughed unsympathetically.

"What kind of person would steal her own sister's date and turn it into her own? And she isn't even
pretty! She'll bring down our exclusive club of 'Sean Foster's ex-girlfriends' and I really hate being
classified into the same category as her," I whined. It was like one of those tabloids that would list every
girl a hot movie star had dated, and my picture would be right next to Leslie. Help.

"Would you like it better if he dated a Victoria's Secret model?" Sandra asked.

I turned the thought over in my head. "As a matter of fact, I would. Because a Victoria's Secret model
would've beaten me fair and square, but what's he doing with Leslie? Surely it's true

love!" The idea of Sean being happily in love with someone else was just barf-triggering.

Sandy was silent for a few seconds. "I sort of see your point now. Although a model would still irritate
me dreadfully."

I exhaled. "I'll be honest. I'm not ready to see Sean with anyone yet, and if it's true love between Leslie
and him, then it really makes me wonder what we had."

"Some irrational lust, I guess." Sandra picked out a piece of clothing then hung it back on the rack.
"Wait, you guys didn't even do it. Then I don't know what you had, either." She shrugged.

I gave her the death stare.

"Honey, I know it's hard, but you've got to let go and try to be happy for him."

"Be happy for him. Really?" I raised my eyebrows.

She sighed. "Fine, I couldn't have done it either. Any guy that crossed paths with us deserves to dwell
forever in an abyss of suffering."

I giggled. "Sean really meant something to me, and for that he has to pay."

"For the time being, let's just start by being really mean to Leslie," Sandra said, although from past
experiences I knew she was all talk and no action. Sandra only bothered being mean to people close to
her, and Leslie was so harmless she wasn't even worth the trouble. "I heard she's going to the beach
with us."

"Really? That should be interesting."

"Janet warned us to be nice, though." She rolled her eyes. "I told her sorry, nice just isn't on the menu."

I laughed. "I can do nice. Nice is my specialty."

I was actually intrigued by Leslie and I couldn't wait to find out what I was up against. I mean, I didn't
want him back, obviously, but I wanted him to see what a horrible choice he had made. I had to be
prepared, though.

"Sandy, I need you to help me pick out a very crime-inducing bikini."

"Sure, but I need to know what kind of crime you're talking about here."

I laughed and linked my arm through hers. I was positive Sean would beg to come back to me, because
when it came to beaches and bikinis, Flora Morgan was more invincible than wolverine. His supposedly
true love with Leslie would dissolve like a sandcastle against the waves in the face of true beauty.

I wouldn't take him back, of course. I would toss my hair in his face and laugh like Dr. Evil. Oh, how I
couldn't wait for a long, overdue last laugh.

=================

Chapter 21 The beach

Janet

On a particularly hot weekend, after it had become official that Sean and Leslie were the new couple, he
brought her to the beach and hung out with us. That wasn't his first attempt of trying to introduce Leslie
to us, but I thought Leslie just wasn't very friendly and didn't make an effort to fit in with his friends.

Sean said I judged people too quickly and that I was annoying with my constant psychoanalyzing, which I
had to agree. I reminded myself to keep an open mind and put aside my loyalty for Flora, who showed
up in a white bikini, looking like she was here for a photo shoot.

"Gucci says hi," she told me, fingering the little bits of bamboo embellishments in the shoulder string. I
had a pretty good idea about who it was for.

"New bikini?"

"Yup." She lay down and stretched herself lazily across the beach towel. Her gaze didn't stay very long
on my face. I turned my head slightly and saw Sean taking off his shirt.

How tragic. Flora was as transparent as cellophane, and I didn't have the heart to tell her it was never
going to work. Whatever lingering feelings he might still have for her, he'd blame it on the bikini and
dismiss it as physical attraction, then he'd turn around and converse with Leslie as they connected on a
spiritual level.

I hated to be right, but Sean didn't say one word to Flora or so much as glanced in her direction. He was
too busy worrying about whether the sun was too bright for Leslie's taste, who was wearing a pair of
extra-large sunglasses and an enormous straw hat to shield herself from the UV rays, along with

a long-sleeved plaid shirt and a pair of shorts.

Sandra looked like she wanted to make a snide comment, but she bit it back and turned to me. She
gasped. "Janet, what in the world are you wearing?"
"These?" I looked down at my feet. "What's wrong with wearing Crocs to the beach? They're waterproof
and comfy."

"I'm sorry, but I can't be friends with people who wear Crocs. They're so hideous it's not even funny."

"Seriously?" I turned to Flora for support, who shrugged and giggled.

"Sorry, Jan. She's right. You can't wear Crocs unless you're a doctor. They only go with scrubs."

Beside me I could hear Sean and Leslie talking softly. He was asking her if she wanted to swim, and she
shook her head quickly.

"Do you mind if I go? I'll be right back." There was hesitancy in his voice, as if he was worried we would
eat her alive if he wasn't here to protect her.

"Go ahead, Sean," Carmen called out. "We'll take care of your girlfriend."

"You're in the way of girl-talk," Sandra said. All the other guys were in the water already.

He looked at Leslie, silently asking for permission, and she finally gave a nod. I resisted the urge to roll
my eyes. He smiled at her before he took off.

I could see Flora's face fell. She seemed to go through some inner turmoil, then she exhaled as if
deciding she would be brave. She put on a bright Flora-style smile, like she was starring in a toothpaste
commercial. "Leslie, aren't you hot? I'm sweating!"

"I'm sweating just looking at you," Sandra added.

"I'm okay," Leslie said, adjusting the straw hat on her head.

"You

can borrow my extra potent sunscreen," Flora said. "This is imported from Japan and very expensive, so
it should be effective. Here, try it out." She held out a delicate white tube.

"Thanks, but I already have sunscreen on."

"Then lose the shirt, seriously," Sandra said. "I'm starting to get a fever."

Leslie moved away a little from Sandra and closer to Carmen. Her survival instinct were kicking in. "It's
just that I burn really easily."

"Are you related to Edward Cullen?" Flora asked. She watched Leslie expectantly, waiting for her to
laugh.

When Leslie didn't answer, I opened my mouth. "Edward Cullen is a vampire. In Twilight," I explained.
"But for the record, his skin sparkles when exposed to sun. He doesn't burn."

"Oh, he burns me." Flora laughed.

"I thought you liked werewolves better," Sandra said. "Vampires are a little too pale for you."

Flora nodded. "Yeah, I'm definitely Team Werewolf. They look like they'd be better at sex."
"Necrophilia against bestiality," I said. "Always a tough choice."

"I'm sorry. I don't watch Twilight," Leslie said.

"It's okay. We get it that you have more sensitive skin," Carmen said in her gentle voice, pushing up her
sunglasses. "I don't like the sun too much either because it gives me freckles."

"Lucia is a redhead too but it doesn't seem to bother her," Sandra said.

Leslie didn't reply to that.

For a few seconds all I could hear was the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. The
uncomfortable silence was stifling, harder to ignore than the sweltering heat, like sitting in

a sauna.

Flora was the first to break the silence. "So, Leslie, we heard that you're a really good violinist. So whose
music do you like to play?"

"Do you have a favorite musician?" Carmen asked.

"I like Tchaikovsky and Paganini."

"Paganini sounds tasty," Flora said. Leslie turned her head to look at her but said nothing. It was a good
thing we couldn't see her eyes behind the sunglasses; I didn't think there were anything good to find.

"Sorry, bad joke." Flora chuckled. She sounded embarrassed, which was rare because she was almost
never self-conscious. "Do you play in the school orchestra?"

"Leslie is a professional," I said. "The school orchestra is too easy for her."

Leslie shrugged. "I suppose the school orchestra is somewhere to start if you want to learn music, but I
just practice by myself."

"Does it ever get boring? I mean, what do you think about when you practice?" Flora kept up her
interview. It was her mission in life to eliminate all lulls in conversations.

"I don't think about anything."

"There is never a moment in life where I think of nothing," Flora said. "I'm always thinking of
something."

"Really? I thought thinking was the one thing you didn't do," Sandra said and Flora kicked sand at her.
Sandra let out a little yelp and threw back a fistful of sand on Flora's legs. Leslie stared far off into the
ocean.

"Do you listen to contemporary music?" I asked her.

Leslie thought for a while, then finally said, "I don't really have time to listen to any pop songs. Maybe
you guys can give me an idea on where to

start."
A somewhat encouraging reply was all Flora needed. She perked up instantly. "Of course! You should
start with none other than our famous home brand Janet Wilson. She has an indie rock band and they're
disturbingly good."

"I think it's cute that you have your own band." Leslie nodded at me..

Cute? I wondered if she'd like it if I said it's cute that she played violin. She made it sound like I was five
and hitting on pots with a spoon.

Carmen stretched her legs and started to add another layer of sunscreen. "Janet has way more talent
than a lot of the artist on the market. Her band is called fishnets. You really should give her a listen."

"Okay. That should be...entertaining," Leslie chose her words carefully, finally deciding on an adjective
that seemed positive yet showed the exact opposite effect. "None of that heavy metal stuff, I hope."

That did not sound condescending. I gripped myself on the shoulders mentally and willed myself to
believe it. I felt like she just crushed something precious in me before acting as if she stepped on a piece
of gum.

She looked down on my band with her arrogant musician's pride like we didn't count as music. It
annoyed me the way it always did when people praised Beethoven and bashed The Doors.

"Do you know there are many rock subgenres?" I took it upon myself to educate her, but Flora patted
me on the shoulder.

"Wait, hold that thought," she said, sitting up straighter. "Something more important just came up.
Look, they get their slow motion entrance!"

We followed her gaze

and saw a group of surfers emerge from the water. They were total hunks. She was referring to the fact
that whenever hot people appear on the screen in comedies, it always turns to slow motion.

"I'm glad I wore my metallic gold bikini today." Sandra propped herself on her elbows to get a better
view. "Eating only chocolates and black coffee for a week really helps."

"I'm surprised you survived," Carmen said. "How does it work?"

"Well, the caffeine gives me the energy I need, and the coco oil keeps me from drying up. You should
totally try, Carmen. Losing a few pounds will work you wonders," Sandra explained, then she turned her
attention back to the beachfront. "Look, the one on the left. He's a nine."

"I can't rate them when there're at least 32 packs of abs staring back at me," Flora said in her usual boy-
crazy way. "My ovaries are in pain."

We giggled and took turns giving them scores. Rarely did we find ourselves in a situation where much
debate was needed. Most of the time a hot guy was accompanied by some of his mediocre friends, but
this gang had the potential to be a boy band.

At this moment Leslie spoke up voluntarily for the very first time. "Janet, don't you have a boyfriend?" It
was as if she caught me frenching the guys.
"Yes I do, and?" I didn't bother to hide my irritation. Sandra had a boyfriend too but even Leslie knew
not to mess with her.

"Nothing," Leslie said quickly, but not quick enough to stop from adding another layer of tension to our
lovely girl talk session.

"Janet's boyfriend is a doctor," Flora said enthusiastically. I couldn't tell

if she was trying to make something good out of this topic, or she was just oblivious. "Well, premed, to
be exact, but he'll get there eventually, which makes him an automatic ten. By the way Leslie, you
haven't voiced your opinion yet. I want to know which of these guys you find the best-looking."

"I'm curious too," Carmen chipped in.

Flora's eyes danced. "If you tell me Sean is hotter than all of them, I'm going to go right off to the ocean
and drown myself."

We giggled. Flora was very cool for an ex-girlfriend, and for a while the atmosphere relaxed a little, like a
rubber band which lost the ability to contract after being stretched for too long.

Leslie pulled her plaid shirt tighter, then she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ears. She looked
flustered. "I don't want to play this game," she muttered and glanced away.

Sandra shrugged and lay back down on her beach towel. If we couldn't bond over hot surfers, we were
never going to bond.

Jake came back first. He wrapped a towel around his shoulders and sat down next to Leslie. Sandra and
Carmen had started flipping through a magazine together, already losing interest in being nice.

Let's see you try, Jake. I watched them with mild anticipation.

Jake randomly tossed out a few topics ranging from camping to cycling to cafeteria food and whether he
should buy a Jeep, and if so what color he should get. Leslie gave him single syllable replies. It was
almost comical. Jake thought he was as smooth as James Bond, but clearly this was the episode where
he got shot down by North Korean terrorists.

"No

offense, Leslie, but you're really quiet," Jake said, claiming defeat. "I'm really curious. Between you and
Sean, who does most of the talking?"

"We don't need to talk all the time," Leslie replied tightly.

"Oh. Oh..." A wide grin spread across Jake's face slowly. "I get it."

Leslie blushed, but it was an angry blush. "It's not what you're thinking. Sean isn't like you."

Jake grinned. "What am I like?"

"You're a player."

"A player?" He laughed. "Yeah, I've heard that a few times, but I've always wondered what that means."
"You pretend to care about girls but all you want is sex," Leslie said with a hint of accusation. I didn't
know why Sean would be worried about us scaring her. The girl could hold her own alright.

Jake stroked his chin. "Well, the second part is true," he said slowly, "but I never pretend to care. In fact,
I'm very upfront about my desires. It's my life goal to hook up like a gentleman."

Behind them Flora burst into laughter. "What does that mean? You get up to open the door for her
when you finish having sex?"

"It means sticking by my belief and not feel ashamed about my lifestyle choices. I embrace my sexuality
and I'm not afraid to say it. The whole thing is under mutual consent and it's conducted in a professional
manner."

Leslie stared at him with open disgust on her face. I bet she was thinking what Jake's parents did to him.

"Jake, do you have a business card? I'll help you spread the word if any of my friends are interested in
your services," Flora said.

Jake grinned and lay a hand across his chest.

"Really, Flora? You would do that for me?"

"Of course. I understand how hard it is to start a business in the beginning."

He stood up, seeming glad that Flora offered him a chance to get out of conversation with Leslie. "Who
wants to play beach volleyball?"

Flora jumped up right away. "I'm in! On one condition." She grabbed hold of Jake's forearm and directed
him to look at the boy band we just rated. "Can you ask them if they want to join us?"

"Flora, haven't you heard? I'm a player, not a pimp. Do your flirting yourself."

"Fine." Flora narrowed her eyes with determination and put on a cute pout before she sauntered off.
Her dark hair flew in the wind and she looked alluring, adorned in her white Gucci bikini. I could see her
gesturing animatedly in a distance. By then Sean, Dylan, and Alan had come back, and Sean immediately
went to check on Leslie. He was glad she still had all her fingers left as if the rest of us were prone to
cannibalism.

I glanced from Flora, walking back triumphantly with her game of the day, to Leslie, huddled on the
beach in her shell of indifference, and wondered how Sean could go from that to that. He was clearly
going through some sort of teenage life crisis.

I had watched enough cheesy teen flicks to know that Flora would be automatically portrayed as the
villain just because she was popular, and somehow Leslie with her quiet, classy demeanor would be true
love. In movies they always glorify the kind of love that makes you feel like sinking into a warm bath
instead of like riding a roller-coaster, and I felt bad for Flora because Sean was an idiot.

Before the game started, Leslie said that she wanted to sit out. I knew Sean wasn't comfortable letting
her sit in the sand alone, so he quit the game to keep her company. Not very long afterwards they left.

We played on.
"I think being with her is really bad for his health," Flora said. "He has gone from boring to drab and it's
so depressing to watch them. I just want to poke a hole in her cocoon."

"You tried," I said.

"I think she hates me," Dylan overheard us and said before serving the ball. "I said 'I thought you only
date hot cheerleaders' to Sean and I think she caught me."

"Thank you for your loyalty, Dylan." Flora hit the ball across the net forcefully, like sending a message.
That was the end of us ever trying to be nice to Leslie again.

=================

Chapter 22 The knee injury

Sean

"I'm sorry I ruined your day," Leslie said.

"No, it's my fault. It was a bad idea to go to the beach." I honestly thought it'd be a pressure-free way to
hang out with everyone, but I underestimated how sensitive she was to sunlight.

"I didn't want to spoil it for you," she said in a small voice.

"You didn't." I smiled to assure her as I opened the car door. She slid in the passenger seat, light as a cat,
and I made my way around to the other side. I was about to start the car when I noticed that the sun
wasn't the only thing that was bothering her. Leslie stared at her lap like it was one of the geometry
problems we went through.

My fingers left the car keys. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yes."

With Leslie, it was always better to double check. She wasn't like Flora who'd start recapping every
emotion she went through the minute she saw me.

"Were you uncomfortable around my friends?"

A second of silence, then a nod.

"Why? Did they say something rude to you?"

"Well, not aloud." Her expression was hurt. "But I know they all secretly judge me and compare me with
Flora."

I was speechless. I couldn't blame her for feeling that way because I knew I did it too. Constantly.
Subconsciously. I just did five seconds ago.

"Nobody does that," I said.

Leslie sighed. "Whenever Flora is in the group, I feel really threatened. She's so confident
and...talkative."
"But Flora is friendly to you." Which I secretly admired her for it. If she had brought a boyfriend, I knew I
wouldn't be half as gracious and mature as she was.

Flora didn't have a jealous bone in her body.

"It's just an act. She's so fake. It's clear she still has a thing for you."

"Oh no she doesn't. You saw how she flirted with the surf team."

"That's just one more thing. Your friends are so boy crazy! They rated those surfer guys on their abs
before they even talked to them."

I didn't tell Leslie how Dylan, Jake and I gave girls scores too, and it's how willing we were to sleep with
them on a scale from one to ten. Jake gave everyone a ten.

"It's all harmless fun," I said. "They don't know these guys, so of course they're only going to judge them
on appearances."

"Yes, but why judge at all? Why do they have to be so shallow and put so much emphasis on looks? They
don't have much substance."

I thought Leslie was taking all this a bit too seriously. "Come on, they're not that bad. They want to chill
out and have a good time at the beach, that's all."

"They live in a deranged world where Crocs are unacceptable and Carmen Belles is considered fat. Can
you believe that?"

"I'm sure it's just talk." In a way, it was cute how she stressed over such things, but at the same time I
thought Leslie was just as judgmental if not more.

"They make me feel so self-conscious," she complained. "And I'm not athletic, which makes it even
worse."

"You don't have to be a volleyball player on top of being an amazing violinist, right? You're great at what
you do and that's cool enough."

Leslie shook her head. "No, they think it's cooler that Janet has a band. They don't know who Paganini is
and they're Twilight fans."

"Well,

I'm with you on that." I smiled, wanting this to be over. "I hate Twilight too. These vampires are
immortal but all they want to do with their time is hit on high school girls."

Leslie laughed courteously, but she wasn't done. "Jake is sex-crazed and Dylan swears non-stop. And the
eyebrow piercing." She tutted. "How can you be friends with them?"

"I like them," I said, pushing back a flicker of annoyance. "They're very open with their 'I hate this', 'I
want that'. I actually admire that kind of honesty. I always try to be polite and say the right things."

"Yes, because you're more mature than they are. Only children blurt out what they're thinking."
"That's what makes children so much more likable than adults," I said, more impatiently than I intended
to. To be honest I didn't even like children, but I liked it even less that Leslie was criticizing my friends.

Her eyes widened at my tone. It took her a few seconds to study my face before her attitude changed.
She gave me a soft sigh and lowered her head. "It's just that I always feel like I don't fit in and I don't
deserve to be with you." Her voice dropped. "You're so popular and good-looking, and I need more time
to gain my confidence. It's not that easy for me."

I softened instantly. I felt guilty for snapping at her when she just spent an afternoon around people she
was uncomfortable with, and socializing wasn't her favorite pastime after all. I pulled her close and told
her that she was silly for feeling that way, that there was no such thing as undeserving in a relationship.
In order to reassure

her, I decided that in the beginning we should spend more time alone to nurture her sense of security.

I knew Leslie could be very opinionated under her sweet appearance. I stopped trying to make her like
my friends, and it seemed they didn't think much of her either.

"So, how's it going with her?" Dylan had asked one afternoon. "I'll admit I was a little surprised. When
you broke up with Flora I was sure it's because you were going to start dating Angelina Jolie."

"Don't be rude, Dill," Jake interrupted. "Angelina is too old. You mean Scarlett Johansson." They high-
fived and laughed.

I knew they were attacking her because they didn't understand her. I found it refreshing to date an
earnest, down-to-earth person who was outside of the prom queen nominees, but I didn't expect them
to get it. However, the constant need to be isolated like we were two hermits on a mountain top could
feel a little extreme. Sometimes when I was with her, it almost felt like there was an invisible wedge
between me and my friends.

The good thing was at least I still had basketball practices, and when things with Leslie got a bit too
intense, going to practices was like coming up for air. As I got ready to go one day, Leslie practically got
down on her knees and begged that I didn't.

She said she had a violin solo coming up and she was really agitated about it, and she needed me to help
her choose what she was going to play. I thought it was ridiculous she'd be turning to me for music
advice.

"What do I know about violin solos? Let alone help you choose one? You might as well let me do
something

I'm good at."

"But you practice three times a week. Surely you can skip just once?"

"I really can't."

Leslie could be very stubborn if she wanted to. She knew exactly how to get to me too. I would just leave
if she were to start a fight, but she was soft-spoken and pleading, vulnerable and teary just like always.
She could drown me with her damp eyes and for some reason I couldn't say no to her.
I relented before her tears rushed down her cheeks. I was getting late anyway, and since I had never
missed a practice in my life, not to mention I always got there the earliest, I thought the coach would cut
me some slack.

No such luck. At the next practice he yelled at me like I was an imbecile who couldn't even dribble, and
Dylan wouldn't give up the opportunity to tease me about dating the less attractive twin.

I told Leslie afterwards how I couldn't wait to get through it. "Now I know the coach hates anyone who
misses practices," I complained even though I knew I deserved it. "I know I sure didn't play as bad as he
made it out to be."

Leslie nodded. "I think you should quit the team."

"What?"

"I think if it makes you unhappy you shouldn't do it. I know playing basketball isn't really your dream."

"Well, no, it isn't, but I like it." I was incredibly surprised this conversation was taking place at all. "I like
being in this together with my teammates, and I like the big games and celebrating with everyone when
it's over."

"Okay..." she said reluctantly. "It's just that it's taking up a lot of your time and it can get

very violent."

"Violent? It's not like playing in a concert, but it sure isn't as violent as football," I said, then I smiled.
"You don't like it that I play basketball? Most girls would think it's hot." As soon as I said it I knew it was
the wrong thing to say to Leslie. Maybe the real reason she didn't want me to play was that it added to
her insecurity.

Leslie never disagreed with me outright. We never fought, but it was the words unsaid, her silent
disapproval, that always made me more distraught, like on a stuffy day the sweat clogged up the pores
and was unable to evaporate.

We dropped the subject after that, since there really wasn't any more to say. I was never going to drop
out of the team, and Leslie just wouldn't give me a single line of "as long as it makes you happy" to settle
my mood. It almost felt like she took away my friends first and now she wanted to take away basketball
too.

***

As it turned out, that conversation was unnecessary after all. A week after Leslie talked to me about
quitting the team, I busted my knee following a dismount in layup. A sharp pain shot through my right
knee and along with it I heard a snap, and just like that I knew junior year basketball was over for me.

A list of thoughts flashed by, mainly things I knew I couldn't take part in.

For starters, I realized I wouldn't be able to drive. Basketball-wise, we had a big game coming up in two
weeks that marked the end of the semester, but the most upsetting thing was that I was so psyched to
go on a cycling trip to Germany with Dylan and Jake during summer break.
We

were going to stay with Jake's uncle, and take on Europe as the three musketeers, as Dylan put it, and
take on European chicks too, as Jake added. The latter was obviously just for the two of them, but as
anticipated Leslie wasn't happy with this plan to travel abroad either. The level of doubt I got from her
was unbelievable.

Another thought pushed at the back of my mind and it was her. She would not be happy with this. My
knee was killing me and all I could think about was how much pressure it was to call her and break this
to her.

I remembered as a kid, sometimes in winter when I refused to put on a coat like my mom instructed, I'd
always try to hide it if I caught a cold later on. As I lay on the gym floor the same idea surfaced. It wasn't
just because she would worry, but because she would make me feel like I did something wrong.

Surely when I got into an accident and thought about my girlfriend, this would be the wrong emotion to
have? Shouldn't I feel relieved that I had someone to emotionally lean on, instead of worrying about her
being displeased?

Leslie was not one to say I told you so, of course. She was too polite for that. But I didn't feel comforted
after talking to her and the silence was too long.

***

Dylan and Jake accompanied me to the hospital. They asked me how I was. By then my knee had swollen
up to a considerable size, but the pain wasn't what bothered me. I felt helpless and trapped.

"I'm okay. I just hate the idea of sitting on the bleachers while you guys play against West Brighton."

"Well,

if it's any consolation, summer break is about to start and you won't miss much. You picked a really good
time to bust your knee," Dylan said.

"Yeah, we only have one big game left, and I think we can still win," Jake said.

"I'm afraid you'll find out you can still win without me."

Dylan gave me a pat on a shoulder. "Don't worry, we already know. We just want you on the team so we
can trash talk."

"Take the summer to rest, and we can play together again at the beginning of senior year," Jake said.

"I hope so. I'm really bummed out about the trip to Germany too," I said. I tried not to sound whiny, but
my mood was gloomier than the MRI chamber. "Looks like I can't make it. You just have to take my
share of European chicks."

"Yes, about that," Jake said with an easy smile. "Don't stress about it. We decided not to go."

"That's right," Dylan seconded. "We reached a unanimous decision just now."

I looked at their faces. They were serious. "Why? Don't cancel because of me."
"We are the three musketeers, right? One for all and all for one," Dylan said. I decided not to comment
on the cheesiness of the line. He sounded so sincere. "It's no big deal. We can go next year."

I was really touched but I didn't tell them that. "I guess I owe those European chicks an apology."

"We're going to get them next year, when we're eighteen!" Jake said. "And hopefully you'll be single by
then and join in the act."

"And imagine all the booze we can get when we're eighteen. This year I'll just go somewhere domestic
with Jake," Dylan said. "Maybe surfing

in LA."

"Malibu Barbies sound good too." I grinned. Jake grinned back and told me they would send me pictures
to keep me posted, and as he started telling me what I could do with the pictures, I was thinking how
glad I was that it was them who were with me.

***

After they left, I lay in the ER staring at the ceiling when the curtain opened. A huge batch of balloons
entered my view first, followed by Flora, Janet and Sandra.

"Hi, we want to see how you're doing," Sandra said.

"Speak for yourselves. I just want to see if I can run into some hot doctors," Flora said in a bored tone.
"But how are you?"

"The doctor thinks my ACL is torn. He's over fifty and not hot, by the way."

"We don't understand any medical acronyms," Janet said. "The bottom line is you feel okay? Does it hurt
a lot?"

"It looks worse than it is."

"We brought you these!" Flora shook the balloons she was holding excitedly in front of my face. "We
picked these out for you especially before coming over. Look, Einstein!! We thought it'd be nice to have
your dream man leering at you when you sleep tonight."

The balloons had giant Einstein faces on them. I couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks!! That's really nice of
you."

"It's not easy finding these, you know," Sandra said. "It's like a thousand Winnie-the-poohs and
Spidermen against three Einsteins. We bought all of them."

"It's great to know I've managed to monopolize these," I said. I had a feeling it was Flora's idea, and the
realization lit up a sense of nostalgia inside me. She still cared about me, and she was here even

though we weren't exactly on friendly terms. I wanted to search for her eyes but she was looking at the
curtain.

"So will you still be able to play?" Janet asked.

"Not temporarily, but I can still play next year I hope."

Flora diverted her gaze back to my face. "Good, because without basketball you'd be a lot less
desirable." I already knew she was going to say that before she opened her mouth.

"Don't worry, Sean. You're still hot even in the hospital gown," Sandra said.

"Don't lie out of pity, Sandy. No one can look hot in these," Flora scolded. A gleam came to life in her
hazel eyes. "Wait, are these the type that opens in the back? In that case would you get up and close the
blinds over there for us?"

We all laughed, and Janet said, "Don't harass the patient, Flora."

Flora gave a wave of her hands. "Never mind. It's nothing I haven't seen already."

A cough sounded outside. It was a light cough, but like pressing pause on a stereo, we all fell silent
immediately. Leslie poked her head in. I could have sworn the temperature dropped two degrees.

"Hi, Leslie," Flora said after a tense second.

Leslie ignored her and rushed over to my side. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine."

"You really shouldn't be getting too excited. You need to rest."

I laughed uneasily. "Come on, Les. It's not like I have an aneurysm. I like having them here."

"Take it easy," Janet said, the sarcasm in her tone pooling all over the floor. "He needs to rest his knee,
not his sense of humor."

"Well, it's probably not a good idea to have so many

people in the ER," Leslie said, unaffected. "We might get in the way of emergency procedures."

"We're just about to get going." Sandra gave the other girls a nudge. "Get well soon, Sean."

I saw Janet roll her eyes.

Flora remained still and I could see a blast of flame shooting up in her eyes, like she was not satisfied to
leave without a fight. "When's your parents' shift, Sean? I guess I'll come when they're here. As I recall
they really like me."

Leslie turned to glare at her and Flora crossed her arms. In this awkward instant a thought sprang to life,
and everything became clear to me.

I wanted Flora to stay. I wanted Flora to make me laugh. I wanted Flora to be right here with me, and I
would rather be one of her ten million worshippers than Leslie's universe.

But I knew what the right thing to do was in a situation like this, and I had no choice. "Thanks for
coming," I said to the girls. "I'll be okay."

Flora tilted her face and our eyes locked. I knew it couldn't be more than a second, but when we were
staring at each other time stretched into infinity. I couldn't look away. I wished I didn't have to. There
was too much to read in her eyes, like stumbling upon a great book at the library that I had to return
eventually, but for the time being I wanted to read as much as I could. I picked up a few things; hurt,
sadness, pity, and perhaps even longing.

I broke eye contact first.

"Come on," Sandra urged, reaching out to drag Flora away. She gave me one last gaze before leaving
with her heels clicking loudly on the floor. Her jasmine perfume strangled

me like a silk scarf and then dissipated in the air.

I felt dizzy. I was trapped.

I was trapped with a non-functioning knee and in a relationship where I was still attracted to my ex-
girlfriend.

***

"Balloons, really?" Leslie opened her mouth first. "I'm surprised these are even allowed in here."

"Look, it's nice of them to come by. You don't have to drive them away."

"I'm not comfortable with Flora hanging around you. I know she'll flirt with you."

"Flora is completely over me and she's not flirting with me. It's just..." part of her charm. "It's just the
way she talks."

"Well, I don't like the way she talks." Leslie poured me a glass of water. She looked at my knee and
sighed in dismay. She told me she was sorry for coming off as rude, because she was just too distressed
and too worried to exchange pleasantries.

It was impossible to argue with her as she watched over me gravely, as if the doctor had just announced
I'd never be able to walk again. I wondered why I didn't feel supported with my girlfriend beside me. The
air was bleak, the hospital bed was suddenly uncomfortable, and the air conditioning was on too strong.

Perhaps I was being unfair to her. I was probably acting defensive because she had been right and I was
just taking out my anger on her, while she had been nothing but devoted and caring. For the next weeks
to come Leslie made it her personal duty to nurse me, carrying my books to classes while I was in
crutches, driving me to and from school although I could easily have gotten a ride from my next door
neighbor Janet. She claimed it'd pain her immensely if I didn't let her help. The more she did for me the
more I resented her, then after that I would be haunted by tremendous guilt and I tried to be nicer to
her.

Before the accident, my relationship with Leslie flowed like a melodic smooth river. Now it seemed like
it slowed down to a halt as it joined a dead pond, and it was so suffocating sometimes I felt like I
couldn't breathe.

Flora was like alcohol and there was AA for it. She was all kinds of trouble. Leslie was like a glass of warm
water in the morning. No one asks you to quit water because it's harmless. It's good for you.

But who ever wants what's good for them?

=================
Chapter 23 The wishes (1)

Flora

"God I really hate that Leslie," Janet said as soon as we were out of the emergency room.

Sandra was as cool as the cucumber salad she ate for lunch. "I don't hate her, actually. She's his
girlfriend, and she's entitled to be there." She threw a warning glance my way. "You really should stop
flirting with him. It's never going to work."

"I wasn't flirting with him," I said indignantly. I couldn't believe Sandra didn't understand me. I was
never a boyfriend-stealer and I didn't plan on becoming one. "I was just making a joke to lighten his
mood."

Sandra raised her eyebrows, like she thought I had an ulterior motive. Janet announced that she had to
rush off to her band practice, and I waited until she was gone to start.

"Sandy, Sean is upset enough already. He doesn't need us to hover around him gloomily like he's going
to be crippled for life. He needs cheering up, and that's why I insisted on getting the balloons before we
came."

"Since when are you such an expert on Sean?"

"I'm an expert on cheering people up," I corrected. I didn't understand Sean, obviously; ever since he
showed up at the beach with Leslie I realized I never did. He was so attentive to her while he always told
me to hang out with my friends and stop pestering him. Not exactly in these words, but-

"What do you care, anyway?" Sandra asked. "I thought you want him to suffer."

I had to admit, ever since we broke up and the love I had towards him fermented into hatred, I sort of
wished something bad would happen to him. But not like this.

"By suffering I

mean crying himself to sleep every night. Or grow a huge mole, preferable with tufts of black hair
coming out of it. I don't want him in physical pain." A thought formed itself unpleasantly in my head.
"What if he can never play basketball again, Sandy? It'd kill him!"

Sandra scoffed. "It's sports injury, not bone tumor."

"I'm worried about him. His knee looks really bad."

"You didn't seem so worried ten minutes ago when we were in there."

"That's because I don't want the heartless creature to know I care." I chewed on my bottom lip as I
mused. "Maybe I can buy him a knee brace?"

Sandra frowned at me in alarm. "Honey, he's not your problem anymore."

"But there must be something I can do for him."

"Yes, there is," she said icily. "You can leave him alone."
"Sandy, I-"

She held up her hands. "Stop right there. I don't want to hear about him anymore. You have to move
on." She turned her whole body so that she was facing me directly, and I could see that the usual
arrogance disappeared in her eyes. It was replaced by concern. "It's been months since you broke up. He
has a girlfriend now, and you're still here obsessing about what you can do for him or how you look in a
bikini in front of him. He. Doesn't. Care. About. You. I'm sorry I have to be the one to say this, but it's the
truth."

I knew everything she said was true, of course. Did she think I was oblivious to the fact that Sean did not
take one look at me at the beach? He was more loyal than an old St. Bernard, and it was one of the
things I loved about him, until his loyalty was no longer directed at me and his smiles were reserved for
someone else.

I didn't want it to hurt but suddenly tears burned behind my eyelids. I turned around to wipe them
away.

Sandra exhaled. "Look, if you really want to do something for him," she said, her voice softening, "you
can pray for him."

***

Praying? I had never prayed before in my life. Praying felt like sending George Clooney fan mails; he was
so busy I doubt he had time to open his inbox, let alone reply it.

However, I did believe in birthday wishes. I was convinced they operated through a completely different
system, and since my seventeenth birthday was coming up at the end of junior year, I dedicated all
three wishes to Sean.

1. I wished for him to get well soon. For Sean not being able to play basketball was like not letting Leslie
play violin, or like me stop being beautiful and rich and popular and fabulous. What a sick world it would
be if we couldn't all be doing what we did best.

2. I wished Sean and Leslie would break up. He shouldn't be allowed to date, at least not yet. When I'm
married to a billionaire someday and am feeding my firstborn with a sterling silver spoon purchased
from Tiffany, perhaps I'd allow him the pleasure of going on dates again.

3. I wished Sean would stop being so hot. Somehow the blue hospital gown brought out his eyes and I
could only stare at the curtain to stop myself from ogling. It was too unfair. He needed to...get fat. That's
it. I wished Sean would get fat because that would be the ideal punishment, and I would obviously stop
obsessing over his sex appeal.

A short time afterwards, I got two wishes granted. I'd say two out of three was a pretty great ratio.

=================

Chapter 23 The wishes (2)

Sean
Summer began. My granddad got me an internship at a physics lab at a nearby university, where he
worked as a physics professor before he retired. I played with lasers and radiofrequencies all day. It was
fun and strangely calming, just like my rehabilitation program. I could almost jog again too.

As my knee got better, everything got better. My mood and my relationship especially. I met with Leslie
everyday, and the days stretched on peacefully, laced with the silky sound of violin. I enjoyed the
routineness of it all, and I liked knowing my daily agenda and following through with punctuality.

The only complaint I had was I wanted to see my friends badly. Every time I tried to go out without her,
she would come up with some sudden emergency, mostly stomachache or that she was a wreck about
playing on stage. There seemed to be an unspoken rule that because she took care of me, the time had
come for me to reciprocate.

I could live without all the things you did for me.

I never asked for it.

You forced your help on me, and now you want me to pay you back with my freedom.

This is a relationship not a debt. Do you want me to like you or to owe you?

These interchangeable thoughts would chase around my head like dark shadows, one running after the
other until they almost reached my mouth, and then I would swallow the words back down. I didn't
want to be a jerk, and Leslie was too fragile.

She had the silent ability of making me feel like the worst boyfriend in the world. She could accuse me in
such a gentle, reasonable

tone that honestly I wasn't sure it qualified as accusation.

I hadn't seen Janet in a very long time. Janet and Leslie didn't mix well together. My girlfriend didn't
appreciate the fact that my best friend was a girl, and my best friend thought my girlfriend was
emotionally abusing me. I steered away from Janet, ironically because I feared she was right.

One evening when Leslie was practicing in her bedroom, I called Janet.

"Hi! What a pleasant surprise!" She sounded like she was chewing something. "I don't see you at all
anymore."

"I know. What are you doing?"

"I'm with Carmen, Nick and Alan having some fries. I think Alan is only here to get close to Carmen. He's
been trying all summer," she said. "How are you? Everything okay over there at Carnegie Hall?"

"Don't say I told you so, but you're right. I feel a little smothered."

"Is that Leslie playing violin in the background?"

"Yes, but I escaped to the living room so I can call you." I laughed wryly. "That sounds so crazy. I mean,
just to make a phone call."
"You remind me of the writer in Misery," she said, referring to the psychological thriller by Stephen King.
"You know under all the caring pretense, she's just happy to hold you captive. But at least you have
Tchaikovsky to listen to."

I groaned. "I don't hate violin, but two minutes into it I forget the title already. By the way, she wrote me
a song yesterday. No wait, I think it's called a piece."

She laughed for a good five seconds.

"Am I a bad boyfriend if I don't particularly appreciate it? She could've

copied it off Beethoven and I'd never know."

"Hey, I wrote a song for you too and you weren't touched either."

"J, you didn't write a song for me. You wrote a song about me, along with the rest of the basketball
team. I think I was the seventh supporting actor."

She chuckled. "Oh God I miss hanging out with you. Come join us!" She told me where to go and texted
me the address.

When I showed up later, Janet jumped from her seat and let out a hoot. She probably expected me to
bail on her. "Look who's here! Was it difficult making the escape?"

I sat down. "I finally convinced her Flora isn't going to be here."

It was great seeing them, even though we were just eating fries and chugging down cokes. Nothing
exciting happened over the summer, but it was exactly that, the normalcy of it all, that convinced me I
didn't miss out on much. It was comforting.

Janet and Nicholas told me about the rock concert they went to last week. I got to know Nicholas
through comparing notes in AP calculus, and ever since I introduced him to Janet they hit it right off. The
two of them shared the exact same taste in music.

Alan was grinning widely at Carmen, trying to impress her with his magic tricks. He had already failed
three times. He started shuffling the deck of cards again, and when she picked one I saw it was seven of
diamonds.

"It has got to be this one, right?" He held up the Ace of spades.

"Exactly!" Carmen clapped. He beamed.

When my phone rang, it was like throwing a rock into a still pond, causing ripples and disrupting my
perfect enjoyment. Leslie's

name flashed on screen. Janet jerked her head and frowned at me. I went outside to take the call just so
I could ignore that look of disapproval, but when I came back it was right there waiting for me.

"Don't tell me you're going to ditch us," she warned.

"She's not feeling well and she needs me."

"Again? You really should get her to check it out," she said. Her tone was a glass filled up to the brim
with hostility, and any more of it it'd spill over the edge. "What if she has gastric cancer? I'd really hate
myself!"

"Janet." I tried to keep the agitation out of my voice. I didn't need this from my best friend too.

"You have to admit it really happens a lot," Nicholas said lightly. He was usually mild-mannered and
never offered his opinion unless I asked for it, and the fact that he needed to say it made it so much
more serious. "I'm not saying she's lying. Maybe it's subconscious."

"Oh no she's definitely lying. Can't you see Leslie is manipulative and controlling right from the
beginning?" Janet raised her voice. "She knows you're soft inside and all she has to do is guilt trip you.
Just because she's not pretty doesn't necessarily mean she's nice!"

That was pushing it a bit far. "What's your problem? You used to be a much cooler person!"

She gaped at me like I stole her line. She didn't answer me and turned to Carmen. "You can do a story on
this in the school paper, Carmen. The title is '7 signs that you have a manipulative girlfriend.'"

"Better yet, do one about 'Is your friend overstepping boundaries and ruining your relationship?'" I

shot back.

Carmen took a sip of her coke, a serene aura surrounding her like she was Virgin Mary on an oil canvas.
She set down her glass. "Come on guys, the school paper isn't Cosmopolitan."

We were all silent for a few seconds, then I had to smile. "I'm sorry, J. I know you wouldn't be saying this
unless you really care." I sat down again. "I'm just mad at you because I'm so frustrated myself."

"I know."

"I know you meant well, but please don't insult her again because I really don't like it."

"Okay." Her voice softened. "I'm sorry I was out of line."

"So you're staying?" Alan said pleasantly as if we had only been talking about cartoon network. He held
out his cards. "Pick one!"

I stayed for the rest of the evening, but I didn't bring up Leslie again. It wasn't right to complain about
her to my friends when I should be communicating with her directly. It was a conversation I needed to
have with her alone, one I had been putting off for too long.

Needless to say Leslie wasn't overjoyed with me ignoring her pleas of help. When I went over to her
house the next day, she was a mess. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face was pale. She stared at me
silently, as if saying you better have a good excuse. You better be giving CPR on the side of the road
rather than eating fries with your snobby friends.

"Look, Les, I care about you and I want to be there for you too. But this can't happen every time I want
to do something without you."

"What are you saying?" she said. She looked weak and feeble, in need of a hug.
"I mean springing some emergency

on me. This is going to sound harsh, but you have to stop victimizing yourself. When you cry I just feel
really guilty, but I don't want to feel guilty all the time in this relationship. You make me feel like I'm
constantly doing something wrong."

I went on to tell her everything I had wanted to say. I couldn't believe I was such a talker. The words
kept rushing out like water against a broken dam.

"If only you had a little more faith in me and yourself. You don't need to test me because I'll not leave
you." Despite everything, I did care about her and I never thought of breaking up with her. I was
desperate to make it work this time.

Leslie nodded. Her eyes were wide and moist, soaking up every word I said. "I never meant to make you
feel that way. Thank you for telling me all this. I'm glad you haven't given up on me."

"We're a long way from giving up. If you ever want to say anything to me you can just say it too. Where's
the defiant girl that stood up to me and called me selfish for using her sister? I kind of miss her."

"I never called you selfish," Leslie protested with a tiny smile.

"I know, you're too nice." I took her in my arms and she buried her face in my chest, and a while later
she had begun sobbing again.

"Please don't cry, Leslie. I really don't know how to handle you crying."

"I'm sorry for acting like this." Her voice came out muffled. "I don't want to, but I can't help it. I'm so
insecure and clingy because I'm madly in love with you. I'm just too afraid of losing you."

"You won't lose me," I reassured her. "I see something I

like and I stick to it. I don't get tired easily, okay?"

I felt Leslie nodding, her soft auburn hair spilling over my forearm. A moment later she raised her head
and her green eyes pierced into mine.

"Sean, I love you."

In that moment I thought the last thing I would ever want to do was to hurt her. "I love you too, Leslie."

I had never said those words, and it surprised me that the first time I said it, it was not to Flora. I was
desperate to say it. I needed to move on.

***

After a few more heart-to-heart, Leslie and I finally got back on track. Her leash on me loosened and we
spent more time apart, but we had gotten closer as a result.

It was quiet happiness with Leslie. Flora still came to mind sometimes, but more like I thought of her
rather than thought about her. If she wasn't in my face all the time perhaps I could have moved on
sooner, but I was confident it was only a matter of time before I forgot her completely.
When I was with Flora I had felt rapturous. I remembered how we would talk on the phone until
midnight and then I'd stay up doing my homework, drinking shots of espresso until my hands shook. I
was willing to sacrifice sleep for her and I didn't feel the need to have space. I missed her as soon as I
dropped her off at her door. I texted her even when I didn't have anything to say. She could make me
break all the rules, and when she touched me she drove me crazy.

With Leslie these things didn't happen, but she understood me. We could talk and she listened, and we
were able to work out a divergence and progress from there.

Which

is good, I thought. Better, even? Surely these are the things that matter more, that keep a relationship
live long and prosper?

***

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked.

Leslie and I got together one night after dinner, and she had mysteriously suggested going for a walk
somewhere. We were on the bus and she took my hand, signaling for me to get off.

"Somewhere we've been together before, but I hope it's nicer this time," she said, and I realized we had
stopped at the beach.

"You want to go to the beach?"

"Yes. I like going to the beach too, just not soaking up the sun and getting burnt," she said. The summer
night breeze was soft and romantic. She slipped her hand into mine and her hair flew like dark velvet.
Around us, the waves crashed against the sand very quietly.

After a long walk down the coast, she picked a spot and I sat down on the blanket she had prepared.
Leslie stood, and a little nervously, she said, "Promise you won't laugh at me."

"What's there to laugh at?"

She pulled off her shirt and showed me the turquoise bikini she had on underneath. "I've never worn
one of these before, but I thought you might like it."

The color brought out her eyes and she looked alluring. Her skin appeared almost translucent at night,
but with the red hair it added a sense of mystique. "You're beautiful," I said, meaning it.

"Thank you." She blushed. "I'm glad you like it."

She was obviously uncomfortable wearing it, and my heart went out to her a little more. I was always
protective of her and I was sad by the fact that she was so threatened by other

girls. I wanted to tell her she could just be herself and it wouldn't make a difference to me.

Leslie reached for the large canvas bag she brought along. "I brought these too." She took out two wine
glasses and a bottle of red wine, smiling shyly. "I'm not sure if this is any good, but I've always wanted to
drink wine on a deserted beach with you. Sorry this is about the most exciting I can get."
If I was here with Flora she'd probably suggest skinny dipping, but right then there was nothing I'd rather
do than to drink cheap wine with Leslie. I didn't know if the wine was any good either, but it got us in
the right mood. I could feel Leslie's body relaxing next to me.

"Why do you love me?" she asked. Her hair flew in the wind and tickled my neck.

"Because you look great in a bikini and you're a smuggler." I nudged the empty bottle with my foot.

"Come on, I want to hear it."

"Okay, I'll try to express the best I can." While there were legitimate, honest reasons, at the same time
my head was running wildly with reasons I couldn't tell her.

"I love the way you smile and the way you look at me." I love you because you made me okay again. Not
completely okay yet, but I'll get better.

"I love that you're opinionated sometimes, but you're always willing to communicate. I love that you're
a great listener and you're good with words." I love you because you're good for me and you seem like
what I need, although not necessarily what I want.

"I love that you know what's important to you and you work very hard for it." I love you because you
found

me when I was broken and you've managed to fix me, and I know this sounds horrible, but I feel safe
with you because I know you don't have the power to hurt me like that.

"And I love how you're not satisfied with your practice sometimes even though it's perfect, and you
have the faintest frown," I said. I was definitely getting much better at this impromptu speech kind of
thing. "Is that okay?"

"Yes." She smiled and looked at me in the very way I loved, like I was the most important thing in her
world. "You passed."

"How about you, why do you love me?" I wasn't really serious about getting an answer, but I thought I
could ask anyway.

"Because you're a hot guy who plays basketball," she said with a playful glint in her eyes.

I laughed. "Touché."

"Okay. Brace yourself because there's a lot." She sat up straighter, and her words were soft and slow,
gently than the sound of waves. "I love you because you don't take anything for granted. You're smart
but you still study like crazy for your tests. You're gorgeous, you can play around if you want to, but you
take your relationships seriously and try to make it work. You go to practice the earliest every single
time even though you're not planning to turn professional. You're hard on yourself but tolerant of
others. You're one of the cool kids but you're down to earth and sincere, and you always try to do the
right thing. You're dependable and you have integrity. You're proud and you don't like to lose, but you
have a soft and sensitive side." She stared at me earnestly as she spoke. "Most of all I think you're a kind
person, and kindness is so often underrated. In fact I don't know if there's anything I don't love about
you."
I stared back at her, overwhelmed. I wasn't even sure the guy she described was me anymore. "That's
the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

She smiled. "And you're no doubt a hot guy who plays basketball, but I feel sorry for anyone who only
likes that about you."

At that moment I was perfectly contented. I was certain we could make this work if we didn't give up.
Even the faltering twitch that tugged at her lips or the soft speckles in her eyes now had its significance.

And just when everything was going swimmingly, Lucia's call came.

=================

Chapter 23 The wishes (3)

Sean

I was in the lab when Lucia called. There was unfamiliar urgency in her voice and it got my attention
right away.

"I need to see you in person. It's very important. Don't tell Leslie yet," she said. I could tell she was
upset. I had never heard Lucia upset, not even back when I told her about kissing Leslie at her birthday
party.

"I'm completely fine with it," she had said immediately.

"Are you sure? I know it's distasteful, and if you're at all uncomfortable with it-"

"Sean," she had interrupted. "How many times have we been out?"

I did a quick calculation. "Four or five times?"

"I can let you off the hook with five times. Everybody knows nothing is definite yet at this stage." She
had smiled very pleasantly. "Leslie told me already. She said she really wants this, so yeah, you can date
her."

Now Lucia sat across from me at the coffee house near school, appearing much more solemn than her
usual breezy ways. At first she didn't say anything.

"Lucia, what's this about? You're making me a little nervous."

"Sean, is it serious between you and Leslie?"

She caught me off guard. "Yeah, it is. Why?"

She heaved a sigh. She stirred the milk tea in front of her for the fifth time, watching the liquid swirl
around the spoon. "If it's serious then I hate to be the one to tell you this," she said eventually, like she
was forced to read out her essay in class. "Has she ever told you that she's going to Austria?"

"Austria? When?"

"In less than a month. And it's not for a trip, either. She's going to transfer
to a music academy and will stay with my dad." She studied my face. "Oh dear. Just as I thought. You
have no idea about it."

Leslie is going to a music academy to Austria, I repeated the sentence two more times in my head just so
it could register meaning. It didn't make any sense. "When was this decided?"

She bit her lip. "Actually, it's always been decided. That was her plan all along, to go to Austria and stay
there for good."

I felt betrayed. I couldn't believe Leslie would keep something this big from me.

"I thought you knew. And I thought you didn't want to get tied down anyway, so that's why you chose to
go out with her. Because she's leaving eventually," Lucia went on.

"No, that's not why."

"And at first I thought she just wanted a summer fling, but I can see it's not like that anymore. I'm telling
you this now," Lucia said, "because she's decided she doesn't want to go. She's going to give up her
position."

I didn't know which the bigger shock was, Leslie was going or she wasn't.

"Because of me?" I asked stupidly.

"Yes, because of you. I know she's very happy with you, and it's pretty cool that she found a guy she
likes, but seriously, you have to agree this is a big mistake. She has been playing violin since she was five.
It was all she ever wanted, until she met you."

I nodded. "Yes. I suppose it is a mistake."

"Of course it is," Lucia emphasized. "She won't listen to me. But you can do the right thing."

"Yes."

I knew what Lucia meant and she confirmed it. "Whatever reason you give her, just break up with her.

Fast and precise."

***

Did I have something in me that propelled my girlfriends to lie to me? This whole scenario felt a little too
familiar, but if there was anything I learned from my previous mistake, it was that I would break up with
Leslie in a calm and controlled way, and I'd be very clear about the reason why I did it.

When we met I told her about what Lucia said. She burst into tears right away.

"Please, I can explain." She sniveled.

"Okay. Explain."

"I was planning on going to Austria, but I've decided not to go. I didn't tell you because I was hoping
you'd never hear of the whole thing."

"Leslie, you didn't explain anything."

She bit her lip, and I waited for her to continue.

"I really don't know what to say, except that I know what I'm doing," she said finally.

I sighed. "Okay, let me ask you this. Why would you want to start a relationship with me if you have
plans already?"

"Because I've always liked you," Leslie murmured. "Do you remember you used to come to this
diner...Monk's, with your friends? I helped out there last summer. I spilled water on your table and
broke a glass, but you helped me and asked me if I was okay. I knew right then that you're different."

I remembered the diner but I had no memory of Leslie. If Flora had been serving us I'd never forget it, I
thought guiltily.

"I thought I would keep it as a secret crush, but when you started hanging out with Lucia, I couldn't help
myself," she said. "If I'd told you about Austria I wouldn't stand a chance."

"So all the righteous talk about not

wanting to hurt Lucia and asking me to stop seeing her...that was staged?" I felt nauseous. Janet was
right all along.

She shook her head. "No, that part was true. She really does tend to fall very hard and I really was
worried about her. I wanted you to stop before she starts to develop feelings for you."

"That's some serious double standards, Leslie. How do you think I would feel if you suddenly disappear
off to Europe? Don't you think I was entitled to know what I was in for before this got serious?"

"I know." She nodded slowly. "But you have to understand this...You are you. I never imagined you
would really be interested in me." Her voice was soft, almost like talking to herself. "I was satisfied with
just being near you, and even when we started going out, I still felt like you'd leave me any second. I
thought I'd keep you for as long as I can."

I knew she was telling the truth, but I was still offended by the selfishness of it. "In a way you're just
having fun with your summer fling until your flight takes off."

"That's not how it is." She sobbed. "My feelings for you are very real."

"And studying for the SAT? I don't think you need a perfect SAT score to play violin in Austria."

"Yes, I admit I had to scheme a little to get you to like me." This one Leslie confessed straight up. "And I
had to act all sweet and considerate when I heard how you were clearly hung up on your ex, even
though I hate hearing her name. I kissed you on my birthday because I knew you didn't have the heart to
turn me down." She had stopped crying and her eyes

narrowed with intensity. "But what's so wrong about that? If I had looks like Flora I wouldn't need to do
anything. People like me have to try a little harder."

I honestly didn't know how to answer to that. She wasn't wrong; I probably wouldn't have even talked to
her if things had followed their natural course.
"Remember what you said to me on the beach? You said you love that I know what's important and I
work very hard for it," she said. She sounded firm and unapologetic. "You're very observant. Everything
you learned about me is true. Our conversations are real, and so is our love."

"Right now I don't know what to believe anymore."

She lifted her head to stare at me. After a few seconds she whispered, "The end justifies the means,
Sean."

Leslie had a side I never knew before and I clearly wasn't very observant, but I knew she was right. She
could arrange for certain things to happen, but she couldn't maneuver feelings.

Everything I did with her, I did it voluntarily. I always had a choice. When I said I loved her I was
uncertain, but I believed it came true gradually, and there was no doubt about it that she loved me too. I
was half flattered, half alarmed and slightly creeped out by the intensity of it.

"When it got serious between us, I thought a lot about going away," she started talking again. "I decided
to stay. I didn't tell you because I don't want you to feel pressured, but I know what's important to me.
You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Leslie, you're being irrational. You can't let a guy who you've only known for a few months alter your
life decisions," I said, surprised and touched at how much I meant to her. "What if we don't work out in
the end? You'll hate me and yourself. I'd rather you just hate me."

"You mean you'll break up with me?"

I hesitated, then I decided. "If that's what it takes to get you to Austria, I will."

"You can't make my decisions for me."

"I can because you're not thinking straight. I don't want to be the reason you stay behind, and if you do
this for me I won't even respect you."

Leslie shook her head. Tears started tumbling down and I forced myself to remain stony. There were
times to be nice and others when I had to be cruel to be nice. After about an eternity of neither one of
us speaking, she said, "I can't believe this is happening. We're really breaking up."

"I need you to do what's right for you. If you go, we can try a long distance relationship."

"No," she said. She lifted her eyes and met mine. In them I could see the strength and determination I
had come to know and love. "I can't do long distance. If you want me to go, then it's goodbye."

This time there really wasn't any other choice.

"Goodbye, Leslie. I hope you have a good time in Austria."

=================

Chapter 24 The end of summer (1)

Flora
After a sizzling summer between Sean and Leslie, when senior year began I heard those two broke up
over something really absurd. Leslie was going to transfer to a music academy in Austria!

This really showed what a troubled young woman Leslie was. Obviously her biggest accomplishment in
life would be to win a prize like Sean, and I couldn't believe she chose to throw it away so she could play
violin. Like she couldn't play it here!

"Well, I once know of a beautiful couple who broke up over a physics test, so really, anything's possible."
That was Sandra's reaction when I shared this piece of alarming information with her. She was really
nasty.

We were sitting in the cafeteria and going over the many gossips of this summer, when Janet and
Carmen joined us.

"What's new with you two?" I asked.

"I'm still dating Brian, and Carmen's still single, even though Alan has tried all summer," Janet said.

"Carmen, you really should give dating a chance. It's senior year and you're going to finish high school
without a single boyfriend. My poor heart can't bear that kind of tragedy. Why don't you give Alan a
chance? I think he's pretty serious about you." My eyes circled the cafeteria and rested on the
basketball players' table, where Alan was sitting with a group of boys.

"Alan is just too..." Carmen fumbled for words.

"Too Alan?" Sandra supplied.

"Yes, probably."

I gave Alan a long, thorough look. He really was an okay guy, I decided, moderately good-looking with
moderate abs. But Carmen could do better than that.

"How about Dylan? I heard

he broke up with Sydney again over some surfer girl in LA," I said. "He's kind of hot when he strums his
guitar and sings, and the whole crew-cut, tattoo with wife-beater look works on him, if you like Prison
Break."

"For his sake I hope he doesn't get fat," Sandra said.

"The fact that they keep breaking up and making up is actually a sign that indicates they're more stable
than a steady couple," Carmen said.

"How about Jake? There should be no dispute here that Jake is cute," Sandra said. The mere fact that
Sandra was complimenting on some guy was saying a lot in itself. "Flora went out with him once."

"Yes, but Jake is just too happy for me," I said.

"Since when is happy considered a bad thing?" asked Janet.

"Well, you guys know me." I shrugged. "I like the look of serious, brooding guys. Not that they have to
be suicidal on the inside, but a big constant grin is a turnoff for me. And Jake is so active, you know. If
we're together we'd be bouncing all over the place like kangaroos. But Carmen, you have a Zen quality
to you, which just might work."

"I don't think I have the power to tame him."

"Maybe you can! I can totally picture you brushing a strand of his blonde hair away from his eyes," I said,
then seeing no reaction I shrugged and my eyes traveled to the next guy. "By the way Carmen, you can't
date Sean. You can ask me again in a few months but not now. I mean, now that Leslie's had a dip of
him, I really don't want him anymore, but he's still off-limits to everyone at this table."

"Thanks, Flora, I don't want to touch

your most prized possession."

The rest of the team wasn't worth mentioning, so I started to search my memory bank. I suggested boy
after boy, but Carmen killed them off quicker than the victims on The Walking Dead.

Not to worry, I was fully loaded with options. "How about Raymond Corbett? He's--"

Carmen exhaled suddenly to cut me off. "Okay, the thing is... I have a boyfriend."

"What?" we exclaimed in unison.

"You have a boyfriend and you never told us? I'm appalled," Sandra said, her voice stern. Not
mentioning a boyfriend or even a crush was seriously offending the girl code.

"I didn't want to say anything because he is...older."

"Older is good." Sandra nodded. She was always supportive of older guys as they seemed more
sophisticated. "Like how old? 22?"

"No. More like...42."

I gasped. "What is it about you girls and older guys? I always say date your own age. You should enjoy
high school boys while you can because obviously you can't date them anymore once you graduate."

"42 is not older, Carmen," said Sandra. "It's old."

"Yes." Carmen nodded. "And he has a wife."

"Carmen!" I squealed. "I didn't know you had it in you! If anyone's going be a mistress, it should be
Sandy. She's sneaky and has no morals."

Sandra glared at me. "I'd never have to stoop to being a mistress. Sorry Carmen. I don't mean you're
stooping."

"It's okay. They're separated and going through a divorce, but we want to keep this on the down-low
because it might hurt his career."

"Career? Is he like a politician?" Janet asked.

"I already

said too much."

"Well, is this going strong or are you trying to get out of it?" I asked.

Carmen sighed. "I'm trying to get out of it but I think it's going stronger. I'm not happy with this. Any
relationship that can't be Facebook official probably shouldn't be initiated."

"Oh, Carmen, I hate to see you in an agonizing relationship," I said.

"Yeah, and that's why I need to break up with him before I start going out with someone else," Carmen
said. "In the meantime, I really don't want to talk about this again before it is resolved."

"Don't worry, we'll just refer to it as The Scandal," I said, and received a dirty look from Carmen. "Come
on, I meant it as a compliment!"

"What is it that Oscar Wilde said about scandal?" Sandra asked.

Of course Carmen would know. "Scandal is gossip made tedious by morality."

Oscar who? The only Oscar I knew was Oscar de la Renta, who made my mom's wedding dress. How did
my friends even know about these people?

I made a mental note to Google Oscar Wilde the first chance I got, and I chanted their names mentally
all the way to history class. As scary as Carmen's confession was, what was even scarier was the fact that
I was the only brainless person in our popular crowd.

Sandra was head cheerleader and she watched foreign films. Janet was a small local celebrity with her
band. Carmen was the editor of the school paper and she could quote authors like lyrics to a Beatles
song.

The only things I knew were spa treatments, skin care, and the differences between a Chanel Reissue
2.55 and a classic flap bag.

Did that make me a bimbo? Crap. I was a bimbo and I wasn't even a blonde!

=================

Chapter 24 The end of summer (2)

Sean

I didn't go to the airport when Leslie's plane took off. She believed in a clean break. From the moment
we said goodbye, she wiped me from her life like a deleted file. I expected some tears and a lot of
bargaining, but there were only silence, blank space and unanswered calls.

The cruel thing about goodbyes is how it clarifies everything. Sometimes you don't know how important
something is until you lose it, but on the contrary, sometimes it's exactly what it takes to make you
realize you can do without it.

When summer was over and school started, strangely I wasn't as beaten up about Leslie as I had feared.
The last time I went through a break up, the emptiness was unavoidable and harsh, chewing its way
through me viciously. The time I felt empty too, but if I were being totally honest with myself, it was a
light kind of empty. Part of me even felt a little relieved.
I told myself it was because of the exhilaration of senior year, or perhaps not seeing Leslie around school
helped. As the temperature dropped and the green leaves gave way to amber ones, we all went to the
beach again to catch the last sliver of warmth and sunlight, before autumn was officially here. I looked
at the tanned girls around me and had a flashback of the night with Leslie on the beach, but I couldn't
remember how it felt when her hair brushed against my face. It was almost like a dream now.

"How could Leslie string you along like that when she knows all along she's going to Austria? I think
that's beyond evil," Janet said. She was still convinced I had been under some sort

of spell.

"J, for the thousandth time, please don't talk about her like that. Besides, I wouldn't use the word evil on
anyone and certainly not Leslie."

"I wouldn't say Leslie is evil, either." Flora rolled over on her back. She was wearing a black one-piece
swimsuit with the area around the waist cut out. Different from the white one she wore last time, but
just as provocative. Now that was what I'd describe as evil. "Maybe she just has the biggest crush on
Sean and she couldn't help herself. Not that I blame her. Sean is very crush-worthy. Dry and tasteless as
a boyfriend, maybe, but juicy as a crush."

Ever since my knee got better, Flora had decided to go back to being my enemy. I hated all her
implications about how boring I was as a boyfriend, and I remembered right away why we didn't work.

"So I guess you're back to having a crush on me," I said.

"I think you guys should date again and get each other out of your systems," Dylan commented beside
me. "All this sexual tension and romantic bantering really hurts my brain."

Not wanting to reply to this comment, I said, "Actually, the brain itself can't hurt because there are no
pain receptors."

"See?" Flora rolled her eyes. "This is exactly why I can't go out with him."

***

Two very unfortunate things happened in senior year. One was that I had world history with Flora, and
Mr. Goleman was a very strict, no-nonsense type of teacher. He assigned our seats as well as history
partners, and of all the instances, Murphy's Law just had to apply in this one. When my name was called
after Flora,

we both froze in our seats.

Flora was chewing a piece of bubble gum and it popped. She turned in her seat, three rows in front of
me, and glared at me before raising her hand, as if she suspected I bribed Mr. Goleman into pairing us
up.

"Can we pick our own partner?"

The appeal was denied, and Flora turned to shoot another round of daggers at me. I felt a flicker of
irritation rising up. If anyone should be unhappy with the arrangement, it should be me. Flora wouldn't
contribute much to our written paper and oral presentation, because she was a smart but lazy student.
Besides, I found myself alternating between being mildly attracted to her and severely annoyed with
her, and neither of these emotions was healthy. I really just wanted to stay away from her.

The other unfortunate thing was that Linda had officially started freshman year as my entourage. I didn't
know which was worse, now that two of my arch nemeses were crammed into my life at once.

I did the proper act of being a nice brother by showing Linda around school and allowed her to eat with
me during lunch break. By day three I thought enough was enough. We were standing in a lunch line
together and she was giving me reasons why I should babysit her for just a while longer.

"I'm only hanging out with you because I want to start off high school on the right foot. If I'm seen with
seniors, it'll make me appear much cooler," she explained in a flat tone, as if she couldn't understand
why a simple concept like this couldn't get through to me.

"That's really pathetic, Linda. And being seniors isn't much of

an achievement. If you stick around long enough eventually you'll get here," I said, picking up a plate of
spaghetti. "While we're on the subject, let me just point out having my little sister tagging along doesn't
make me appear cool."

"Your friends are really hot. I wonder if they'd be interested in a freshman." Conversations between us
were usually like this when she ignored whatever I said and brought up a new subject. She was boy-
crazy and her high school fantasies were solely consisted of dating, parties, and falling in love.

"My friends are not good boyfriend materials," I said. "And you're seriously too young for them."

She shrugged. "Anyway I'll need to sit with you for a few more days, or I'll tell dad and mom you're really
mean to me."

"You tell them whatever you want because I don't care." I didn't like talking to my sister because it
always made me feel immature.

"Lindy!!" An excited voice broke into our conversation. "I can't believe you're here and you didn't say hi
to me!!"

We both turned around and it was none other than Flora Morgan, dressed in a ridiculously short skirt
paired with an oversized necklace. The subtle scent of her jasmine perfume hit my face.

"Flora, hi!" Linda giggled nervously. "I just thought, you know, I'm not sure you want to hang out with
me since you...since you and Sean..."

"You mean we broke up, yes," Flora said serenely. "Don't be absurd. I'm your friend, with or without
your brother." She hung one arm around Linda's shoulder. "You must be so excited to start school! Care
to join me for lunch? I brought

my own today so you won't have to eat the yucky food in the cafeteria...." She kept on a chatter while
leading my sister away to her table, without even glancing at me.

I silently thanked her for getting Linda out of my hair as I made my way over to where my friends were
sitting.
"Congrats on finally ending your babysitting job," Dylan said, witnessing the whole thing. He took a loud
sip from his coke.

"I actually don't mind having your sister with us," Jake said. "I've forgotten how cute she is."

I glanced at him in alarm. "Jake, please don't even think of trying anything with her."

"What are you going to do, threaten me with your friendship?" Jake laughed. "So it's sister against
brother, tough choice." He held out his two hands, pretending to be weighing the options. He let one
hand drop. "Sorry, I think sister Foster just won."

Besides us Dylan snickered. "Lighten up, Sean. Jake is a great guy."

Jake nodded, his expression all sincere. "I'm critically acclaimed. No one ever complains."

"I know what you do to girls and how you talk about them afterwards. Stay away from Linda." I felt a
sense of protectiveness springing up although I really wasn't much of a fan of hers. Linda was bratty and
stupid, but she was still my sister.

"Chill, man. I'm only kidding. I don't mess with girls under sixteen," Jake said with a perverted smile. "I'll
wait."

My eyes traveled all the way across the cafeteria where Linda was sitting with Flora's gang. Flora was
talking animatedly, and Linda was staring and nodding like she wished she could take

notes. I guess she was in good hands. Flora could be super nice and friendly sometimes, and at that
moment I thanked her again and again for putting up with Linda.

All my gratitude towards Flora wore off when she called me Sunday morning. I was still in bed.

"Good morning!!" Her voice boomed into the phone and cut right into my brain. "Time to go over the
much-dreaded history project!"

"What?" I mumbled, barely able to open my eyes. "What time is it?" I fumbled with my cell phone and
saw it read 07:15. "Flora, we agreed to meet at ten."

"I know, I know!! But I just got back from this all-night party and thought we should just get this over
with, and then I can go back and sleep."

Like that's any of my business. I didn't get a good night's sleep for a mysterious itch on my thigh, and I
especially did not appreciate a sudden change of plans. "Flora, I don't care what you've been doing, but
I'm going to hang up now."

"Come on, I already waited an hour before I called you." Flora had great social skills when she felt like it.
When she didn't, she acted on impulse and was downright rude and inconsiderate. "I'm at this coffee
shop near your place. The Pavement."

"Good bye, Flora. See you at ten." I rolled over.

"Sean, if you don't show up here in fifteen minutes, I'm going straight to your house," she threatened,
and I knew she would do just that.
I took a deep breath to calm myself and exhaled into the phone. "I'll meet you there."

"Okay, but hurry up. I can't stay long. It's not going to take all morning, is it?" she asked, like I was a kid
pestering his busy parents for a trip to the park. "I have to go somewhere in the afternoon."

I sat up and rubbed my hand over my eyes, hoping to chase the sleepiness away. In times like these I
really couldn't remember anything I liked about her. "Do I have permission to at least shower first?"

"Okay, make it quick."

She hung up before I could say anything else, and this was how my story started with Flora Morgan,
again.

=================

Part 3 ◎ Chapter 25 The Louis Vuitton

Flora

I was sort of on friendly terms with Sean when he hurt his knee a while ago. I felt sorry for him, because
seeing him temporarily off the basketball team made him seem like an angel with cropped wings and it
was almost pitiful. However, senior year began and as soon as he lost the crutches and the clingy
girlfriend, he was as cocky as ever.

He bossily decided on meeting for the history project right away, even though the paper wasn't due for
weeks and the oral presentation was at the end of semester. He said he wanted to start early, and I
knew the sub context. He thought I would slow him down.

Well, he wanted early, I would give him early.

I sat in The Pavement café waiting for him, and coincidentally this was actually where we met for our
first date, back when he was still the adorable guy who waited for me at the bus stop. This time he
pushed open the glass door with a mixture of open distaste and perhaps lack of sleep on his face.

"Flora, what is so hard about showing up at a given time?" he demanded as he sat down, setting down
the history textbook as well as a laptop. Needless to say I had brought nothing except my wallet on
chain.

"If we start early, we finish early. And you're here already, so don't complain."

He glanced at my appearance and shook his head. I supposed orange fake eyelashes didn't suit his taste.
"Okay, what have you got?" he asked in a weary tone.

"Ginger latte," I replied. "It's not bad."

"No." The look of controlled irritation was hard to miss on his face. "I mean for the history

presentation. You must have some ideas already."

"Oh!" I giggled. "Well, I thought we're supposed to talk about what each of us has to do, and then I can
go and look for it."
"What?" Sean took a few moments to get a hold of himself before he spoke again. "For God's sake,
Flora, you're giving me a headache."

I waited for him to go on because I knew he would.

"I didn't count on you to put much thought into this project, but to show up empty-handed? That's a
shock, even for you."

"Hello, did you mention anything about searching for materials? You said 10am on Sunday morning, and
here I am. We just have a different way of approaching this."

"That's an understatement," he said. "Clearly it's my fault for not telling you specifically what to do and
assuming you have common sense."

"With the way you are acting, I'm assuming you're my boss and I'm waiting for you to assign my work."

He narrowed his eyes. "What's the point of meeting if you haven't prepared anything? You're wasting
my time."

I couldn't believe the last time we were here all I wanted to do was kiss his lips. Now I just wanted to
smack the textbook over his head.

"Would you stop whining already and start discussing? Jeez! Let's hear what brilliant ideas you have."

Without further words, Sean turned on his laptop and clicked open a folder. He started doing a very
detailed but boring description of what he had in mind, and I tried concentrating. I REALLY tried. But
after five minutes I couldn't help but yawned.

He glanced at me in annoyance.

I waved

my hand. "Go on, go on, I'm listening."

As he started again my eyes wandered around the café. It was only seven-ish in the morning but already
this place was filling up. Lots of men and women hunched over their laptops and iPads as they sipped
their morning dose of caffeine. I couldn't believe there were so many J.K. Rowlings lying around in the
neighborhood.

"Hey, are you the kind of person who sits at a café all day, typing away on their laptops and pretending
they have important stuffs to do, while they're just leaving comments on Instagram?" I said, not
realizing I had cut him off in the middle of a sentence.

"Yes, I sometimes sit at a café all day typing a paper when I'm stuck with a crappy history partner, who
showed up totally unprepared two hours early, and doesn't even have the decency to listen to me when
I did all the work," he snapped.

For someone who was sleep-deprived, Sean sure had a lot of energy biting my head off. "Look, I'm sorry,
but your presentation is really tedious. And for the record, I don't like this arrangement any more than
you do, so you and your 4.0 GPA can shut up and stop acting like it's my honor to be paired with you."
Sean was silent for a second. He exhaled. "I know you want to pass up on being partners too. So how's
this? I can do this by myself. I'll hand in the paper and put your name on it, and I can do the presentation
alone. You just show up on the day of presentation and wear something hot, and we can call it equal
contributions."

Every time when I thought he was about to apologize, he would come up with something

even more repulsive. It was all I could do to refrain from spilling my ginger latte on his face.

Or laptop. Whichever hurt more.

"This condescending attitude of yours really gets on my nerves big time. What makes you think I'll be
okay with whatever you produce?"

"I thought I'd be doing you a favor," he said, "while you party away your life."

Great, we had managed to get into a fight in less than 15 minutes. I sat glaring at him, although I just
really wanted to go home and sleep. "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

He sighed and pushed himself away from the table. "I'm going to get some coffee first."

I stifled another yawn. "While you're at it, get me a double espresso."

As he walked away I stared absently ahead in fatigue, when something caught my attention. The
screensaver of his laptop flashed on and replaced the document he had opened, and I noticed that it
was a slideshow of all the pictures he had on his computer. I watched with mild interest. Sean didn't
strike me as much of a photographer, and he didn't especially like getting his pictures taken either.

It started innocently enough. There were pictures of our fellow classmates, family trips, and a few
photos of still objects and the skyline. I smiled, seeing Linda making her face and still managed to look
cute. Then after some photos taken during the basketball tournament, I suddenly saw myself.

With one quick glance I realized that it was before the homecoming dance last year, when I went over to
Sean's house to pick him up. His dad had suggested taking a photo and I gladly agreed. I looked really

great if I do say so myself. I was dashing in an olive green gown made by Dolce & Gabbana, standing
next to Sean, who I had to admit didn't look half bad either. He was tall and lean and we seemed to
belong together. We were happy. He said in the car that I was cool and I won him over completely.

The feeling of being unexpectedly bitten by old memories was not one I particularly enjoyed. As the
photo faded out, I let out a troubled sigh.

When the next photo showed itself I saw it was one of Sean with the Louis Vuitton Keepall 55 I had given
him last Christmas, and sadly he had owned it for only about ten minutes.

Here's what happened then:

Christmas was approaching and we were together in my bedroom the day before I was going away with
my family for the holidays. My parents were in the living room lounging in front of the fireplace, having
met Sean a while ago. Of course they were totally in love with this fine young gentleman and even went
as far as inviting him to come along to Alaska with us for the holidays.
"Are you sure you can't come with us?" I whined, setting my chin on his shoulder and turning to him
with big woeful eyes. "I'm really going to miss you very much."

"Me too, but my dad already booked the tickets to Miami and everything." He touched my cheek. "I'll
call you all the time."

"Okay," I agreed gloomily. "I hope we have the same definition when it comes to all the time."

He smiled. "Don't worry. By the way, you didn't open my present yet."

"Oh yeah, that's right!" The prospect of opening gifts was always appealing, although

I had already learned from past relationships that with guys, it was the thought that counted. Part of the
fun was acting delighted when I was inwardly horrified at their taste.

I opened the tiny black box with apprehension. Jewelry was always a bad idea. Inside the box lay a set of
exquisite, antique-looking earrings. Old bronze surrounded an oval-shaped crystal in pale blue color. I
was speechless for a second because I was genuinely shocked that I could have gotten something that I
actually liked.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," I gushed. "You have great taste!"

"Well, you mean Sandra does."

"Sandy picked it?" I raised my eyebrows and then smiled. "That must have been interesting, you going
shopping with Sandy." I couldn't imagine what they were going to say to each other.

"No, of course I didn't go out with Sandra, even if it's for your sake. I just sent her a bunch of pictures
and asked her if it's a yes or no," Sean explained. "She was really mean, by the way."

He showed me the email between them with his phone, and frankly it was hilarious. Sandy commented
mostly with:

1. You are joking.

2. Seriously? Tell me you sent that by accident.

3. Remind me again if it's a Christmas gift or break up gift.

4. Hang yourself. Now.

5. ............................

"Some of these aren't so bad," I said in between fits of laughter.

"I know." He laughed with me. "Sandra really is a terrible person."

"I wish you have given me a heads up about exchanging gifts," I complained. "I feel so bad that you have
to endure Sandy when I haven't

prepared anything."

He pinched my nose lightly. "I don't mind."

I looked around, scrutinizing my untidy room as I tapped a finger against my chin. "However, I'm sure I
can find something among this mess to give to you." I urged him to start playing a game of Hot or Cold,
shouting out random temperature to mislead him, until he pulled out a large Louis Vuitton paper bag
from under my bed.

Sean looked positively stricken. "Baby, please tell me you're just using a Louis Vuitton bag to put in some
other thing."

I placed my hands on my hips. "I'm insulted. Do I look like someone who would do such a tacky thing?
Go on, open it!"

Sean took out his present gingerly as if he was taking out a bomb. It was a duffle bag in monogram print,
which I had put a lot of effort in choosing especially for him. Sean wasn't much of a fashion blogger, and
he usually just wore a plain shirt over jeans, paired with Converse/Vans, and threw on a blazer when he
felt like it. Sometimes he would wear a button-up shirt, also completely without pattern, and that was
about it. I had no problem with his style because he could totally pull it off, but I kept thinking if he could
glamour up a little it'd be awesome.

"Do you like it? You can bring this to Miami and travel in style!" I said. "Beckham and Hugh Jackman
have these too!"

"...I like it," he said with difficulty, "but I really can't accept this."

"Oh my God," I said with horror. "I knew it. I had my doubts about monograms too but I thought since
your clothes are so bland...I knew I should have gotten you something more low-key like Bottega
Veneta,

but it's a bit over my price range."

"It's not that. I'm not a fashion guru, but I know how much this must cost."

I waved him off. "It's not that expensive." It actually was a bit expensive, and I had to throw in all my
savings when I had my eyes on a Chanel tweed jacket already, but it was totally worth it.

"Flora, I really, really appreciate it, but this is just too extravagant," he said apologetically. Since when
was extravagant a negative thing? "I'm really more of a Jansport kind of guy. Do you think we can return
it?"

"No! How appalling! My family doesn't do stuff like returning things. If you really don't like it I'll give it to
Edward." I huffed. Edward was my big brother.

"Let's give it to Edward. He'll definitely like it." He looked visibly relieved.

"And you can take what I was about to give to him, which is a Christmas mug with mug mitten," I said
with my arms crossed.

"Please give me the mug with mitten! Ever since I was a little boy that was all I ever wanted for
Christmas," he said in a playful, pleading way, grabbing my left hand with both of his hands. When Sean
was acting cute around me I really couldn't stay mad at him, and I chuckled despite myself.

"Fine, you get your mug. You drink coffee all the time anyway."
"Hey, how about I take some photos with my ex-Louis Vuitton?" he suggested, obviously just to humor
me. We hardly ever took photos of each other, aside from the few selfies I took with my phone, and I
agreed it could be fun.

"How's my pout?" Sean asked, holding his Keepall with his best model poses. It really looked

great on him, and I giggled with girlish delight, snapping away and staring appreciatively through the
camera lens at my gorgeous boyfriend with expensive leather.

At that moment, my gorgeous ex-boyfriend set down my mug of double espresso in front of me and
broke me out of my reverie. Thinking back, it was no wonder that we broke up. Everytime I wanted to
offer him something nice, i.e. a night at my parents' beach house or leather goods, he made me feel
really stupid. When I went out of my way to arrange a romantic date, he acted like he'd rather do his
physics problems beside me while I watched soap operas. It was just so excruciatingly hard to please
him.

We sat in moody silence for a while, sipping our coffee.

"Have you ever thought back to the time when we were together?" I blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you?" I prided myself on speaking whatever was on my mind. I could tell Sean was contemplating
what this was leading to.

Finally he said, "I try not to."

"So you do."

He said nothing.

"What do you think about?" I pressed on.

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the way this was going. "Flora, this is not the kind of history I
want to discuss. Can we get back to business now?"

"Come on, it's been ages. We are seniors now. Surely we can talk about it and maybe have a good
laugh?"

The truth was my heart was pounding rapidly, and nothing about what happened between us was funny
to me and could be treated with a breezy laugh. I mean, I had stopped crying long enough and had
started dating even before the crying ceased, but still I always

felt like there were unresolved feelings. If we had ended it nicely, mutually, I would've accepted it, but
the way he did it was like snatching a book from me when I was on the last ten pages (not that I would
ever get that far with a book), or shutting off the TV just when the movie was drawing close to an end,
and I wasn't even allowed to ask questions.

I was left hanging and I needed some closure. Surely it didn't mean Sean Foster was the best movie I
ever watched, although if I was being totally honest with myself, he kind of was.

"Okay," he relented. "What do you want to talk about and laugh over?"
"Mostly I just want to know if you were happy during and if you regret ever being in a relationship with
me," I said in a rush. I had wanted to ask these questions for so long. I dreaded what he would say.

"No, it's been pretty fun. You were very entertaining," he answered straight away, carelessly, as if I was
a silly clip on YouTube about singing cats. I was just someone he could drop as soon as he lost interest.
"Why, do you regret it?"

I shrugged. "I guess not. There are only so many available guys in our school. I'd get around to date you
eventually. It's a good thing to get it out of the way." No way was I going to tell him that the only thing I
regretted about it was that it ended.

"I'm glad we got it out of the way then," he said sharply. "If you're satisfied, maybe we can try getting
some work done so you aren't late for your next date."

I shook my head mentally as he started launching into history again. The old Sean was gone, and all the
king's horses and all the king's men, they couldn't put our two hearts together again.

***

Later that evening I decided to pay Janet a visit and suggested studying for history together, since she
was in the same class. She was more than a little blown away.

"Whatever this drug you're taking is, I like the side effect," she said.

"I want to do some serious studying. Let's not talk for an hour and instead just really concentrate." I set
the alarm on my cellphone and dove headfirst in medieval times. I could be really dedicated when I
wanted to.

"Jan, if you were to choose of course you'd be partners with me, right?" I could start concentrating as
soon as I got the answer to this question.

"No offense, Flora, but I'd probably choose Sean. I don't mind getting an A for a change."

"I can get an A too if I want to!" What even? I would show these people if this was the last thing I did!

=================

Chapter 26 The sushi and the grilled eels

Sean

Flora glided in the student lounge with flair.

We had agreed to meet after school again on Monday, and after waiting for almost twenty minutes she
finally showed up. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, showing off the large bronze
earrings that dangled from her ears. The faint sparkle of the crystal immediately brought me back to last
Christmas when we were still together. Flashbacks of laughing in the snow, hand-holding in the ice-
skating rink and drinking endless mugs of hot chocolate piled on top one by one.

"Nice earrings," I said.

"Yes," she said, her tone matching my Christmas memories. Frozen. "Someone who used to matter gave
it to me."

Ouch. I glanced at her outfit, which was a dress several inches too short and closer to cocktail party than
studying session. She was probably going on a date again later, with someone who mattered more than
me, which was of course none of my business. I don't care.

"Are you going somewhere after this?"

"No, I'm all yours." She pulled out a chair next to me. The end of her hair swung in front of my face as
she sat down.

I inched away. I was a sucker for long glossy hair and I didn't want to be distracted. "Janet said you
studied at her place last night."

"That's right. I was so afraid of wasting your time. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you." She dumped
the folder she had been holding in her hand on the table with an angry thud, then she took out a typed
document and shoved it in my face. "Here, have a read."

It was several pages long. She

had typed out the outline of our paper, completed with footnotes and references. Some of the
paragraphs had been highlighted. It looked like something that would take hours to complete.

"Wow, this is really impressive. You did this in one night?" Flora could be amazing if she wanted to. She
was usually very laid-back, but if provoked she got all competitive. I thought she was charming that way.
"I hope you didn't stay up too late for this."

"What do you care? The point is, I come fully prepared this time and I can hold a discussion properly, so
you can quit acting like you're my tutor or something."

She seemed really mad. I should just apologize. "I'm sorry if I offended you yesterday."

"You offended me, all right. I just thought we can discuss what to do first, and I can focus my energy on
studying about stuff that we'll actually use, but you treated me like a parasite." Her hazel eyes flashed
with malice. "And by the way, history is not rocket science, it's not even hard. I don't know how you can
be so arrogant."

"I was just really tired yesterday, and I don't function well in the morning without coffee. I'm sorry I said
some stupid things." I chose my words carefully.

"You were practically sexist. You basically said all I can do is party, date and wear something hot." She
pulled my history textbook over to her side and flipped it open. I knew Flora always had the ridiculous
paranoia of me viewing her as a pretty airhead.

"Come on, that was taken out of context. You know I don't really think that. I'm really sorry."

"Whatever." She shrugged,

flipping through the pages until she found what she wanted. She dove her nose in the book and ignored
me. I tried reading the document she handed to me, but it was hard, knowing she was sulking.
I jabbed at her forearm lightly with the end of my pen.

"Are you going to forgive me? With that much hostility directed at me, I really can't read anything," I
said in a low voice. "Don't be mad. Please?"

She burst into quiet laughter. "Fine. Stop jabbing me."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. We were going to work on this for many more days to come and I didn't
want to fight every time.

"But you can't laugh at my suggestions or make me feel stupid again," she warned.

"Of course. I promise."

Flora seemed to brighten in an instant. She snapped my textbook shut and leaned toward me. "Okay,
listen, I have some pretty good ideas about how we can do our presentation."

"Let's hear it."

"I think we should do a play," she announced with a smug smile.

"A play?"

"Yeah, you know, like a skit. Instead of reading to the class, we can act a year in medieval times. We can
be a peasant, a noble or crusaders, and show what life was all about. The plights that we faced. How
famine, plague and war affected us. Depends on what aspect we want to focus on the most."

I bit back the first snide remark that came to my mind. It sounded like the description on the back cover
of an RPG game, minus the quest to locate hidden treasures and conquest the seven seas. I stalled for
time, trying to come up with a rejection line that didn't sound like rejection.

"I don't know...Mr.

Goleman doesn't strike me as someone with a sense of humor. I seriously doubt that he'll like it that
way."

"I don't care what Mr. Goleman thinks. I'm not going to do a fifteen-minute presentation by reading out
the contents in our paper and bore everybody's brains out," she said. "Flora Morgan cannot give a
boring presentation."

Do you get paid for entertaining people? "I thought we could just do it with PowerPoint."

"Well, but now we have a better idea," she said, her voice dripping with authority. She narrowed her
eyes at me. "Unless you're saying I can't decide how we do our presentation."

"No, of course you can decide. But can we go through this carefully? I mean, it seems like a lot to cover
in fifteen minutes, and-"

"I don't care," Flora said stubbornly. "You can have your way on the contents of the paper we're handing
in, but I'm standing my ground on the presentation. I think as long as the paper is good Mr. Goleman
won't mind having a little fun."
A play? Seriously? I felt maneuvered. She knew I couldn't just flat out deny her suggestion after her little
tantrum earlier, although it was truly the most absurd idea I had ever heard.

"I...can I at least think it over?"

"It's like gift-wrapping or advertising, really. We sell the same product, but we just do it with a backstory.
We can add loads of historic fact into the construct of a play, you know? Imagine how boring TV
commercials would be if people just did it with PowerPoint."

"Well, unless I'm selling a medieval castle here, I don't see how that's relevant."

Flora glared

at me. "I knew you'd act like this. As a matter of fact Jan and I had quite a laugh talking over it."

I was so going to kill Janet for not talking her out of her craziness firsthand.

"Hey, I got an even better idea." Her voice dropped dramatically, and I just knew it meant trouble. "You
can play the part of the knight, and I can play the part of the girl who mysteriously dropped out of the
sky."

I stared at her. "What mysterious girl?"

"I'm from the modern city, and for some reason I'm sucked into the sky and land again in medieval
times. You know time travel is so hot right now. And anyway, I can be so unaccustomed to ancient life,
and the difference between now and then will be significant."

"Seriously, Flora, I think you did drop out of the sky." This nightmare was becoming more vivid by the
minute. "If anyone needs a play in order to see the difference between now and then, perhaps that
person should just drop history altogether."

"Think about it! Open your mind, Sean."

"Hmmm...maybe we can even fall in love in the end and you decide that you're throwing everything
away just to stay with me, and we can happily feed ourselves on soup-stew and rye bread for the rest of
our lives," I put in sarcastically.

Flora's hazel eyes shone. "Yeah! Like in that Meg Ryan film." She nodded wildly. "We have to add this
part."

I felt like banging my head on the history textbook. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

***

As time went on I had to admit Flora's idea wasn't all bad. She gave me a decent plot and it was
educational as well

as entertaining, and although I didn't want to boost her ego any further, I couldn't keep the smile off my
face when she tossed me lines from her play.

I had forgotten how fun it was when we were not enemies. It was better than fun. It was addictive.
When we were done for the day, it almost felt too soon. I offered to do the typing and Flora didn't fight
over the privilege. She collected her things and turned to me suddenly with a bright smile on her face.
"Hey, I'm hungry. Do you want to have dinner together?"

"Sure," I agreed without thinking. "If you're not doing anything later."

As soon as the words were out I regretted it. I knew I wanted to spend more time alone with her, but
that was pushing it a bit far. We already survived an afternoon together without tearing each other's
eyes out, and I really should quit while I was ahead.

"Great! I'm starved," she said. "And no, I told you I have nothing else planned."

"You look really dressed-up, that's all."

She smiled. "I really just threw these on. Come on, let's go."

We walked together to the parking lot, neither of us speaking. I knew this was a huge step between us,
an almost-date to me and just food to her, and I had no idea how to act. I told myself it was no big deal,
as if having casual dinner with my ex-girlfriend was something I did regularly.

I held the door open for her. "Where do you want to go?"

"I'm dying for some raw dead fish," she told me. "I want to go to that new Japanese restaurant near the
park."

"Sure." I started the car and stared straight ahead, but I was well-aware

of Flora sitting on the passenger side. It was awkward. I thought I was annoyed with her on Sunday, but
now I bounced right back to being mildly attracted to her. I shouldn't nurture this attraction. Her
perfume gnawed at me, and crammed inside my car with her was enough to send me in a
claustrophobic attack.

Up until this afternoon, the conversations we shared were usually strained, if not outright hostile, that I
had forgotten how to socialize properly. Luckily Flora was chatty enough for both of us.

"How's Linda adapting to high school life?"

"Pretty good, I guess," I said. "She doesn't tell me anything but she seems really giddy these days."

Flora nodded. "That's because she has a boyfriend now."

"Already?"

"Yes. What can I say? You can't fight true love. That's her words, by the way."

"Who is it?"

"His name is Ray." Oh God I hate him already. "Ray Sandler, I think. He's in her English class. Pretty cute
for a freshman, but nothing that screams true love."

At least she was dating someone her age. "Do you know him?"
"Not really, but you should probably get to know him. After all, Linda has announced that she'll be
marrying him as soon as high school ends."

I scoffed. "Linda is unbelievable. She'll forget him at the next party she goes to."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. She seems head-over-heels, Sean. She has already started on knitting
a scarf for him as a Christmas gift, and she wants to celebrate her birthday with him by cooking a five-
course meal together. It's a recipe for disaster, if you ask me."

"I'm

sure Linda's knitting and cooking will be disastrous, but at least she's taking her future husband
seriously."

"No...when you pour your heart out to a guy this madly this early, nothing good will come out of it,"
Flora said wisely, like she was giving out advice in a weekly column. "Linda's affection seems one-sided.
As Sandy would say, let the guy do some work and make him sweat a little, or he'll never cherish you."

"I hope you don't really believe that." As far as I knew Flora didn't play hard-to-get and I really liked that
about her.

"I actually think there's a lot of truth to it, but that's just in theory. I have trouble applying it myself.
When I like a guy I just can't shut up about it."

I remembered how Flora had repeatedly said she liked me and how flattering that was. I had no problem
with girls who were aggressive and spoke their minds, and the feeling of no longer being the object of
Flora's affection left me with a sense of loss. "Thanks for looking out for Linda, though. She's really lucky
to have you as a friend."

"You don't need to thank me. I'm not doing it for your sake."

"I know, but why? I can't imagine what Linda can offer you."

"I've always wanted to have a little sister who I can pamper and dress up," Flora said. "And in a way she
kind of reminds me of myself. When I first started high school I was really clueless too, and I had my fair
share of boyfriends who didn't cherish me." She glanced at me. I hoped she didn't mean me.

I pulled up in front of the restaurant. I just wanted to have fast food and get it over with, but Flora

looked too nicely-dressed for fries so I agreed to sushi. I knew it'd take longer to eat here and I
welcomed the idea, regardless of how much of a suicidal move it was.

I hadn't been to a lot of Japanese restaurants and I let Flora order for me, and she was incredibly bossy
about dining etiquette and table manners. She acted like she grew up in Tokyo just because she could
say Arigato. I found her self-righteousness amusing.

"I feel like I'm watching a horror movie." She openly scoffed at the way I hold my chopsticks. "Here, let
me show you."

She picked up her pair and demonstrated how to pick up a small slice of cucumber. From my perspective
she looked pretty clumsy herself.
"I'm not sure I want to learn from you."

"You just don't want to admit I'm better at this than you are," she said haughtily. "You have to put your
index finger here." She reached across the table and grabbed my right hand, adjusting my fingers to the
right position. Her touch was cool and smooth, but my heartbeat escalated immediately. I withdrew my
hand as subtly as I could and picked up the instruction from the table.

"I can be self-taught," I said.

"Let's just see how that works out." She leaned back in her chair and gloated over my attempts. I
practiced for a while, and when she tried picking up another cucumber shakily, I briskly snatched it away
with my chopsticks.

She looked at me in astonishment.

"You don't have to be so arrogant, Flora," I said. "It's not rocket science, it's not even hard."

Flora shook her head in mock anger. "You have awful table manners,

Sean."

***

For a while Flora was too engrossed in her food to talk to me. She was always willing to try exotic food,
and this evening she was happy with the grilled eels over rice she ordered. For someone who was born
rich and had seen everything, Flora wasn't at all jaded. She had a child-like innocence, like she was
amazed by life and all the wonders it brought.

"I never know eels can taste like this," she said, shaking her head. "It's like they're caramelized with soy
sauce. I love it! Do you want some?"

"Only if you're too full to finish it."

"I am, actually. You'd be doing me a favor." She pushed over her plate. "I remember how you hate
wasting food."

Back then I used to polish off all her leftovers. Flora would order anything that intrigued her, taking a
few bites to taste the flavor, knowing that I would be there to finish the rest.

I accepted her grilled eels even though I wasn't hungry anymore. Old habits die hard.

She watched me eat, and an amused sparkle came into her eyes. It was like she was watching a dolphin
feeding show at SeaWorld.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No. It's just that...I don't know how you do it, but when you're eating, you make the food look super
delicious. You look so contented."

"Is that a good thing?"

Her lips curled up. "Of course."

I ate the rest of my dinner with my ex-girlfriend smiling at me, filling my cup with Japanese green tea
and the air between us with her nonstop chatter. It was awkward but also sort of...nice. We ended up
staying much longer than I anticipated,

and I enjoyed Flora's company a little too much. I knew if I let myself be alone with her it was just
something waiting to happen.

I really shouldn't do anything this stupid again. Next time she suggested dinner I'd head straight to
McDonald's drive-through and toss her a Big Mac.

On the way back, Flora announced she wanted to close her eyes and doze off.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired."

"No problem. I'll wake you up when we get to your place."

"Okay. How do I adjust the car seat? I want to lean back a little."

"There's a handle to your right."

Flora fumbled around for a while, then she turned to face me. "I can't do it."

"It's the same as every car."

"No, the seat adjuster is remote-controlled in my car. Can you do it for me?"

She looked completely innocent, but I had a truckload of dirty thoughts in my head. It was impossible to
adjust the car seat without touching her, and as I leaned over to work the adjuster, we were so close I
could almost feel her breath on my face.

Flora was like the sirens in Odysseus's tale or Salome in New Testament. I had so little self-restraint
around her it was ridiculous.

"Is this better?" I pulled back and asked.

"Thanks, Sean." She smiled with her eyes closed. I turned the music down and drove in silence, my mind
a jumble of thoughts. It was probably better that Flora wasn't talking to me, however her presence was
still palpable.

I stopped at a red light, and I reached around to grab a spare jacket on the backseat. I placed it on her
gently, careful not to disturb her.

She didn't even stir. I liked that she seemed so trusting and at ease beside me.

When I pulled up in front of her building, she was still sleeping. I indulged myself in gazing at her face for
a few seconds more. I would never have the chance to stare at her like this again. She was so beautiful.
For a very brief second I wondered why we weren't together anymore.

"Thank you. I had fun tonight," Flora said lazily, still not opening her eyes.

I tore my gaze hastily away. "Yeah, me too. We're here."

"Okay." She raised her arms over her head and stretched, sitting up. She smiled at me as she handed my
jacket back to me, sending a faint cloud of her perfume along with it. "Thanks. You're very sweet."

"No problem."

"Well, see you tomorrow," she said. Our eyes locked for a second. My heart rate had picked up speed
again. Flora leaned toward me and squeezed me on the shoulder, smoothly, playfully, before she turned
to open the door.

It was with just the right amount of strength, enough to keep me guessing and torturing myself with
confused thoughts. She got out of the car and walked up the flight of stairs to her door.

=================

Chapter 27 The bet

Flora

I called Sandra as soon as I got back from dinner.

I knew her usual routine. Judging from the time, she was likely bending forward in a triangle in serenity.
She always did yoga at night, stretched out on her purple yoga mat in front of the oil painting Daniel
gave to her. She told me that Daniel was amazing and that he painted and photographed equally well.

I seriously doubted that Sandra understood Daniel's abstract painting. She just liked the idea of having a
piece of artwork in her room and how sophisticated it made her feel.

Sandra picked up her private line and she sounded impatient already. "Hi."

"Sandy! You're never going to believe this!"

"What? I'm in the middle of-"

"I just got back from a date with Sean!"

"Sean? Sean Foster?"

"No, Sean Connery." What kind of question was that?

"What were you thinking going out with him again?" Sandra asked. I could tell she was instantly
enraged.

"It's nothing, really. We were going over the history project, and when we finished I asked him to grab a
bite," I said. At the time it happened it just slipped out. I had a good time working with him, and I liked
that we could joke again. Sometimes when he said something funny, I'd think of the way I used to throw
my arms around him and tickle his neck with my hair. I knew he loved my hair.

"It's still going out, whatever you call it."

I sighed. "But it was fun."

It wasn't like an ordinary, fidgety date though. After all, I had known Sean for so long, yet he wasn't a
close friend, not a crush, and not exactly an
enemy. He was just an extremely irresistible ex who I knew I should stay away from but somehow
couldn't.

It had occurred to me that if I followed my usual flirty dating routine it'd be so out of place, so basically I
didn't know how to act because I had no other routine.

"Flora, honey, you need to stop this," Sandra said sternly. "I'm getting really bad vibes. Don't tell me
you're starting to like him again."

"I don't like him, in the sense you're suggesting," I said. "But listen to this. At first Sean looked just like
he always does, you know...poised...aloof...and I couldn't grasp his thoughts, but later on, I'm confident
that he's attracted to me. It's the way he looked at me, Sandy. Like he wants me but he's holding himself
back."

She scoffed. "No, Sean's like the tiger in The Life of Pi. Richard Parker, was it? You see in his eyes the
reflection of your own emotions. I think you like him and I think it's really, really bad."

"I can tell, okay? For example, he ate everything off my plate. Don't you think it meant something?"

"Of course," she agreed. "It means he's a hungry guy who doesn't care that much about hygiene. I'm
sure you've heard of those."

"Come on. Don't you find it adorable? And he looked so happy I could just keep on staring at the way he
eats."

"You can get a golden retriever if that's what you're looking for. Seriously, Flora, what is this? What is
with this crazy infatuation?"

Yes, what was it with this crazy infatuation? I almost pulled an all-nighter typing our paper and got up
extra early to

make sure I looked fabulous. All this just to impress him. Why I was doing this I wasn't sure entirely. I
told myself it was simply because I didn't want him to underestimate me.

"But we're history partners," I bargained. "We have to spend time together."

"You can keep it professional. Have you forgotten how you were when you broke up?" Sandra's voice
rose. "Honey, I know I'm more about tough love and I don't say sweet and useless things to you like
Carmen does, but I do care. I don't want to see you crying for him again. Tears are boring."

"I know." I immediately thought of the first few weeks of sleepless nights, as well as the rejection and
pain when he started going out with Leslie. Like what we had meant nothing to him. I hated him and
how I still couldn't seem to get over him, especially when he was acting cute and sweet again. He was
the enemy yet his face was harder to wipe from my brain than a lipstick stain on my Miss Dior lambskin
handbag. "Sandy, you don't understand how it feels to be around him," I said, my voice cracking. "Half of
me want to jump him, and half of me want to stab him with my chopsticks."

"I'm going to put you on mute now if you don't start talking about something else."
"I can't talk about anything else. I can't even think about anything else." I ran my fingers through my hair
savagely in frustration. "I think I'm even trying subconsciously to seduce him. I want him to fall for me
again."

"Why in the world would you want that? Sean is tolerable as one of our stupid jock friends, but he's a
shitty boyfriend. He'll dump

you again the next time you pick a fight with him. Can you honestly be with someone you have to be so
careful around?"

Sandra was so right. I could always count on her to tell it like it is. Out of nowhere, a crazy thought
formed in my head like lightning. I swear I didn't know where it came from; it was as random as the girl
who mysteriously dropped out of the sky in medieval times. "Maybe I can get him to fall for me again so
I can dump him."

Sandra was silent for a few long seconds. "You're crazy, and I think you shouldn't mess with him."

"I can never get over him unless I show him how it feels!" The thought was not only getting clearer, it
was growing limbs. "I want to make him realize that he can't escape me. I'm back, revengeful and even
more powerful than the first episode!"

"Flora, I'll never understand your obsession with him, but I already know how it's all going to play out.
You're going to fail miserably, your plan will backfire and bite you, and I'll be stuck listening to your
whines. Please don't go there."

"If I were the one walking away I wouldn't be dwelling in self-pity anymore. I need to do something
drastic, otherwise I'll never stop thinking of him."

She sighed. "Why? Granted, Sean is pretty cute, but not even George Clooney is worth that kind of
trouble."

"George Clooney didn't make me cry and destroy my fun in dating permanently. I still can't develop a
halfway decent relationship with anyone since him." I'd be secretly grading the new guy like I was a
judge on American Idol. I gave them tiny black marks mentally every time they did something

uncool, or in other words, un-Sean-like.

"Are you sure getting even is the only way to get him out of your system?"

"Yes! I need this! The timing is better than ever, too, with Leslie away and all. Sean must be vulnerable
now." If he should ever be vulnerable, that is.

"You're nuts, Flora. Getting revenge sounds like something only I would do."

"That's why I need your advice! Fill me in on all your cold-blooded, sneaky, hard-to-get tricks," I pleaded.

Sandra was silent again. I could almost sense the wheel of her brain churning and coughing up evil
schemes. "Well, he really is a jerk ending it like that. Revenge is sort of justified," she said finally.

"Right? And if I have a revenge underway, it'll be a constant reminder to myself that I can't fall for him.
Otherwise working together with him is very risky."
"I can help you, but it's Sean we're talking about, honey. He's not some inexperienced doormat who let
you walk all over him. I seriously doubt that you can maneuver him the way you want to."

"With your help I can."

"I can give you some pointers, but it's up to you to make it work. I say you don't have what it takes," she
said.

Challenges were totally my thing. Whenever I was motivated, I was all for it. "Wanna bet?"

"What are we betting?"

"A whole outfit. You can have any set of clothes I used to wear, complete with accessories. If I lose, that
is. If I win I want the little black dress you wore last weekend. In your case I'd allow for secondhand."

"Don't worry, if anyone's wearing secondhand it'd be me," Sandra said.

"You're

on."

Sandra laughed her evil laugh to signal the end of the conversation. "Making a bet to break someone's
heart. Hmmm. It sounds so high school I can't help loving it."

***

I didn't loosen up on my appearance the next day. Or the day after. By Friday when I sat down next to
Sandra in the cafeteria, clad tight in my new Versace dress, even I myself began to suspect if I was
overdressing. Things with Sean had slowed down to a disappointing halt, and we held an emergency
meeting to discuss strategies at our usual seat.

"I know I have to be the one making passes in the beginning," I said, "but he turned down every subtle,
non-date-like invitation I came up with. He also twisted my every other hint and made classic sarcastic
Sean-Foster-style reply."

"I'm not sure your definition of subtle and hint is the same as everyone else."

"Sandy! I'm being driven straight up a wall."

"I told you," she said without sympathy. "I suggest you forget the whole thing. I want your Paige jeans.
You've worn it only once, right?"

"I'm doing everything I possibly can. Usually a guy can get a message by now and take it from here. I
can't shake the feeling that he's trying intentionally not to fall for me."

"Well that's logical isn't it? Anybody who's had a dose of you knows you are trouble."

"But the feeling was there! I'm sure of it. If only I could get him alone on a date again..." I closed my
mouth when I saw Sean and Janet walking towards us.

"Aren't you a sight to look at these days, Flora," Janet said as she sat down. She put
a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. She ate the same stuff everyday with the weird combination of
orange juice.

I smiled innocently. "Thank you. I'm really trying to discover what style works on me." Or to be precise,
what style worked on him. I turned to Sean expectantly. "What do you think, Sean?"

"I like seeing your outfits, Flora. Keep us entertained," he said lightly as if he was mocking me. I looked
down and sucked on my diet coke, feeling a bit injured.

All through lunch Sean pretty much ignored me as he engrossed himself in a conversation with Janet
about some indie rock band. Every time I opened my mouth to steer the conversation in the right
direction, i.e. me, Sandy would kick me under the table. She had started playing with her phone, and a
while later I saw that she texted me.

"Stop acting like you want to have him for lunch! You're so obvious it's like you're holding a banner."

It's not that I wanted to be obvious. I had tried subtle but it didn't work, either. He was even harder to
get the second time around. The lunch hour was over before I scored any points with him. Feeling
defeated and stupid, I stood up to collect my things when I sensed him looking at me.

"Shall we go now?" he asked.

Yes, praise the lord we still had history together. The class, I mean. Janet had left first, and it was just the
two of us. He waited at the table and picked up my lunch tray for me, piling it on top of his.

I smiled up at him. Somehow this casual act of friendliness made me very delighted.

"So I finally met the love of

Linda's life," he said. "But it's only because she wants me to drive them to their mini-golf date."

"I reckon you don't approve of him much."

"I suspect I'm one of those guys that think no one is good enough for his sister, but this Sandler
character really isn't much of a charmer," he said as we headed toward the history classroom together.
"They sat in the backseat whispering and groping each other while I drove in front like a chauffeur. If
there's a glass window between us, they would've pulled it shut."

I shook my head. "I'm surprised he didn't grab this chance to suck up to you. If I were dating someone's
sister for real, I'd make sure I'm on good terms with the big brother. Maybe ask you pointers on how to
get biceps like yours."

"Oh, that's easy. Use crutches," he said, then he smiled with a faint trace of affection. "Only you'd
compliment me on my biceps."

This light encouragement was all I needed to go on. "Hey, do you want to work on our history project
again? I know I do." He couldn't possibly say no to that.

"Isn't that heartbreakingly moving to hear." He glimpsed at me skeptically.

"I have a bunch of new ideas that I'm just dying to share with you."
"That's what I'm afraid of. But sure, we can meet in the student lounge after school, if you're sure that's
what you want to do on a Friday afternoon."

"Actually, I'm thinking we should go to your house. The student lounge closes early and I don't want to
be interrupted in the middle of it. It's going to take a long time today, especially when I plan on getting
my hands on the props."

"Props?"

"Yes.

You know, for the play," I replied with a cheerful smile. "As well as costumes and stage setting."

"Jesus, Flora." He frowned, like he had something bad for lunch. "I was hoping you'd drop the idea, but
it looks like you just doubled up on your enthusiasm."

"I told you I was serious about it." We reached the classroom and I waited for him to say yes.

"Well..."

"So can we go to your house after school?"

"Flora," he said disapprovingly.

"Can we?" I held my hand across the door so he couldn't get past. Other students were approaching,
and I knew he hated making a scene.

"Fine, my house after school," he said finally, gravely, as if he just agreed to launch a missile targeting
Russia.

I giggled and let him in.

***

"Well, you certainly come prepared," Sean said, taking in the huge pile of colorful paper I just dumped
on his bedroom floor.

"Yes, I told you this presentation is important to me. We need to start making an armor for you now. Or
maybe you want to rent?"

He looked at me like I suffered from leprosy. "Flora, I'm not wearing a costume in history class while I
read out those corny lines you've written. No offense, but it sounds like a lousy teen drama."

"But how else are you going to convince people you're a knight unless you are wearing armor and riding
on a paper horse?"

"How about I just introduce myself in the beginning?" he said. "Or you can make me a paperboard that
says knight."

"But that's really lame." I plopped down on his bed with an unhappy sigh.

"How come you get to be a fashion editor with hip

clothes from modern times? That hardly seems fair," he complained good-naturedly.
"Duh, because you don't look like a fashion editor." I put my hands on my hips.

"Okay, but I can have a different occupation. I can be a mechanical engineer."

"Fine, you can fight me for the part of the time traveler, but then you're stuck with all the corny lines.
Are you sure you want to leave the part of the history lecture to me?"

He chuckled. "Flora, if this play is your twisted way of getting back at me for being condescending, then
you win, okay? I'm willing to go through with this on several conditions." I actually had other, more
twisted ways of getting back at him, but I nodded for him to go on. "You can polish our presentation up
a little by adding a plot, and some cheesy dialogues can be tolerated, as long as you say it yourself. For
example, my doctor says I'm lacking Vitamin U is not coming out of my mouth. Neither is How about
going out with someone who doesn't have the plague, for a change?" He smiled at that one, amused.

"For your information, I went through a lot of search to find the best modern and medieval times pickup
lines."

"I know, I can tell," he said, "but I'm not saying it. Secondly, I'm not wearing any costumes and I'm
certainly not riding a horse. Lastly, I want to cut down on all the lines irrelevant to history to about ten
percent, and when it's my turn to talk history, I want enough coverage time. I'm using PowerPoint, by
the way."

Sounds about fair to me, I thought. I didn't really expect him to dress up as Don Quixote anyway. "Fine,
you can do the serious historic part, while I do what I do best. I'll stand aside looking pretty, watching
you with admiration."

He laughed. "That's not what you do best. What you do best is making my life a living hell." He didn't
look like a guy in living hell though. "By the way, as a knight of honor, I'm pretty sure sneaking some
mysterious girl inside the castle would harm my code of chivalry."

"Yes, intense drama, isn't it?" I shook my head, tsking. "Do you think we can add, like, a kiss scene?" I
asked, waiting to see his reaction.

He squinted at me. "You know how I'm always willing to sacrifice for artistic reasons..."

I giggled. I missed flirting with him, and I missed knowing that he only acted like this around me.

=================

Chapter 28 The family dinner

Sean

Flora stayed for too long at my house. When dinnertime came and my parents generously asked her to
join us, I couldn't find a reason to oppose to it.

I supposed I could hold a grudge against her for her infidelity. However, since it was almost a year, a pair
of crutches and one Leslie later, when I thought of her what once felt like bitterness had slowly lost its
flavor and transformed into something like a guilty pleasure. It shouldn't be wrong to indulge myself. I
could handle a little bit of flirting as well as minimal extent of physical contact.
I could forgive her, I decided, since Flora was in a lot of ways similar to a child. It was easy to believe
what she did to me was nothing personal, that she was never ready for a serious relationship, and
although it had hurt at the time, I knew I was above that. I would make peace with the foul memory and
accept her again, because having a friend is always better than having an enemy, not to mention a
gorgeous one in short skirts.

I just had to be careful about not being dazzled by her charm again.

We all sat down like one big happy family, me, my ex-girlfriend who I had an insignificant crush on, my
sister who worshiped her, and my parents who acted like they'd eagerly give their blessings if I told
them we were getting married tomorrow. I couldn't think of a more disturbing scene.

Flora started off by asking how everyone's day was, and we had the most heated discussion in the
history of our family dinners. Usually my parents would talk to each other about work, my sister would
whine about anything

that crossed paths with her, and I would say what happened at school but leave out all the important
stuff, but when Flora was here we were suddenly met with a lot of feedback.

"So you're working on a project together?" my dad asked.

"Yeah, it's for history class. We have to do an oral presentation," I replied. I thought that was enough of
an explanation, but clearly anything counted as an ice-breaker for Flora.

"I actually want your opinion on that," she said, directing this at everyone as her eyes ran from one
person to the next, like she was running a support group. She went on to describe our play in every little
detail, and needless to say my whole family were on her side. They acted like they had never before
heard of the concept of a play and they couldn't believe how brilliant it was.

"That's a wonderful idea, Flora," my mom said. "I'm glad Sean got you as a history partner."

I know, totally. Riding on a paper horse and reciting medieval pickup lines was my lifelong dream.

"Actually the pleasure is all mine," Flora said. "Sean is so organized! I'm really lucky to be paired with
him. If it'd been anyone else, we wouldn't have started until the very last minute!"

"I'm going to record this," I said.

"I mean I can't believe I'm actually going to get an A for something other than Phys Ed and I owe it all to
him," Flora continued. She was her own little shop of enthusiasm right there, with so much excitement
gushing out of her like we were talking about a rock concert instead of school work. "You must be so
proud of him. He's so well-rounded and

he's perfect at everything he does."

That was pushing it a bit far.

"Well, we never have to worry about him much," my dad said, grinning, "but he has his cranky teenager
moments. Remember how bitter and cynical you were in middle school?"
"Dad! I may doubt the world sometimes, but I was never bitter." My face felt hot. I wished dinner was
over.

"He's pretty bitter to me." Linda found her perfect opening. "It was Flora who guided me in school
because Sean couldn't care less about me. If I dropped dead suddenly, he wouldn't even know."

I gave Linda a dark look. "I should be so lucky. But it's true, Flora's really been an amazing friend to
Linda."

"That's really nice of you," my dad said. He passed the remaining potato salad in front of Flora even
though it was his favorite dish.

"I didn't really do that much," Flora said, "and it's only in the beginning. Linda has a bunch of her friends
now."

Actually Linda had exactly one friend/boyfriend, but we all knew not to mention that. Flora took a bite
into the grilled fish we had for dinner, chewing with the immaculate table manners she was so proud of.
"I once went with my parents to this Michelin restaurant, Guy Savoy, and they did this amazing whole
grilled sea bass which tasted like a dream. I just can't get over how soft and melty it was," she said. "The
reason I'm mentioning this now, Mrs. Foster, is because this tastes just as delicious as that."

My mom chuckled in surprised delight. "You're exaggerating." I knew that compliment hit home,
though, because it was her signature dish.

"Maybe you should

stop going to Michelin restaurants if you can't tell the difference," I said.

"Guy Savoy just stuck his head in the oven and killed himself, whoever he is," Linda added.

My mom shook her head. "No one appreciates my talent around this house."

"I don't lie about food," Flora said, "and I think home-cooked meals are such a luxury. In my house,
you're lucky to get a PB&J sandwich."

"You're welcomed for dinner any time," my mom said. I hoped she didn't mean that.

When Flora polished off her fish, she asked my parents what hobbies they had. They looked at each
other and smiled.

"Well, nowadays we don't do much of anything," my dad said. "We're both so swamped with work we
just lie in front of the TV and see whatever is on, but we used to like going to jazz concerts."

"Yes, that's how we met, actually. In a jazz bar in Brussels, -"

"-while we were both backpacking across Europe."

That's every teenage boy's dream, of course, hearing about how his parents met for the eleven
thousandth time. Flora nodded with what looked like sincere interest, and my parents happily told the
story one more time, then they went on to discuss about trips to Europe.
"I did the backpacker thing once with my brothers," Flora said after my parents finished. "We had to stay
at a mixed dorm and listen to people snore the whole night. The hostel is fun to try once but I'm never
staying in one again for the rest of my life. I've also reestablished myself as a suitcaser. The backpack
crashes with my style."

Only Flora would call staying in a hostel a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but my parents didn't seem to
view her as a rich snob and instead laughed at her honesty.

The dinner continued on, and nobody was in a hurry to leave the table. By the time it was finally over,
Flora jumped up and offered to clear the dishes. I knew there was a single question that lingered in
everyone's mind but was kindly left unasked.

Why in the world did Sean break up with this wonderful girl?

=================

Chapter 29 The ice-cream date

Flora

As the rest of his family piled into the living room to watch TV, Sean stayed behind and cleared the
dishes with me. His eyes were on the table, dark and preoccupied, and as usual I couldn't tell what was
going through his head.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

He looked up and smiled. "Not much. I'm just thinking you're really great with parents."

"I wasn't just trying to impress them, you know. I honestly like talking to them."

"I know, otherwise you'd say your hobby is volunteering at the soup kitchen instead of waking up in
crisp white Egyptian cotton."

I smiled. "I can't help being myself, but I did try to be my best self."

"Why?"

"I thought it'd make you happy. You want your parents to like your friend who they've invited for dinner,
right? Even if I'm just an ex-girlfriend." Linda's boyfriend really should learn a thing or two from me. If he
took her seriously, he definitely should make an effort.

Sean lifted his eyes to my face and looked at me in a way that brought back many memories, like he
adored me but didn't know what to do about it. "You're not just an ex-girlfriend," he said softly, then he
took the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Hey, I'll do it."

"It's okay, I will," he said. "You've never done any house chore in your life, have you?" There was a
teasing glint in his eyes.
"I make very good coffee with the coffee machine," I said, "and I can at least help you load the
dishwasher."

Our fingers touched occasionally when he handed over the plates, and my heart jumped each time it
happened. I scolded myself. This was a

boy who I had done a lot of things with. I had touched many parts of his body which were a lot more off-
limits, and I was freaking out about our fingers touching? How juvenile.

"So you feel lucky to be my history partner? This is new," he said.

"I can change my mind, can't I?" I peered at him briefly from under my lashes. "Actually, I left out a few
things when I was telling your folks about how I like working with you. For instance, I didn't tell them
that I really like it when you try putting up with my craziness with mild amusement."

"Mild amusement?" His eyebrows rose. "Try excruciating reluctance."

No need to argue with him because we both knew it was true. "When I get upset you drop your cocky
attitude immediately. I also like that although you're stubborn and opinionated, you go through that
drama thing with me even though you think it's stupid."

"Flora, are you giving me a compliment here or are you condemning me? I keep hearing words like cocky
and stubborn," he said. I suspected he was embarrassed that I was suddenly saying nice things to him.

"I'm saying I love working with you."

We locked eyes. His blue eyes were as clear as crystals and he gazed at me fondly, just as back when he
used to say I was the most unpretentious girl he'd ever met. It was so hard not to like him.

I dropped the line I had been building up the suspense for. "When you look at me like that, I just feel like
I really, really want to kiss you."

He stared at me stunned, eyes wide and beautiful, not blinking. I knew he wanted to kiss me too but he
was

deliberating if it was a good idea. I raised my chin slightly. Our eye contact didn't break, and I hoped I
could hypnotize him if I stared hard enough.

He leaned in and I closed my eyes, only to receive a peck on the left cheek. It was soft, light, and entirely
too brief.

My eyes flung open. "Wow, a kiss on the cheek? Can I post this on Facebook and ask everyone what it
means?" I said loudly. "Is he testing the waters? Telling me to stay away? Hallucinating and seeing his
sick grandma?"

He laughed. "I'll tell you myself. It means I think you're cute, but stop flirting with me."

"Hmmm." I scratched my chin. "Then how do I say I think you're cute too, but I want to keep flirting with
you?"

I stood on tiptoe and kissed him back, also on the cheek, before he had time to react. "Wait, I think I
didn't say it well enough. Let me try saying it more slowly this time..."
He chuckled, dodging me as I pretended to attack him again.

"Maybe with a British accent?" I went on.

He picked up the dishtowel and swatted me playfully, fending himself. I laughed along with him, and I
couldn't remember the last time I had such a great evening.

***

"A kiss on the cheek? I'm so disappointed," Sandra said on the phone after I reported my latest progress.
"I thought Sean had balls. After you sucked up to his parents for the entire evening, the least he can do
is give you a proper French."

"Aww, come on." I laughed. "I thought it was pretty cute."

Sandra snorted. "You're hopeless. Everything Sean does is cute to you." I heard her taking a gulp on the
other end. Maybe

her iced herbal tea. "You have to listen very carefully. Don't text him or call him for the whole weekend.
Make him miss you a little."

"Don't we need to strike while the iron is hot?"

"Nothing is hot yet, honey. We'll do something to go in for the kill on Monday. Trust me on this one."

***

The sky was crisp and blue on Monday morning. I sat on the lawn and waited for class to start, sipping
hot lattes with Carmen and Sandra. Janet was off in her little corner faraway listening to music. I chose
to spare Carmen the details of my heart-breaking operation since I didn't particularly enjoy being
preached at.

At that moment, she nudged me in the elbow. "Look, there's Sean."

Why was she pointing that out? Had I been acting really obvious? Maybe I mentioned him one too many
times.

I quickly swallowed the rest of the coffee down my throat. He was coming toward us! Dressed in a pair
of low rise Levis and a simple grey sweater, he sure was pleasing to the eye and I felt a wave of nausea
passing over me, like I was 10 and talking to my crush for the very first time.

A second later he was here. "Flora," he acknowledged. "Sandy and Carmen." He smiled at all of us but I
imagined that when it came to my name he kind of drawled longer. He could've been saying "Flora and
the rest" for all that mattered.

Did he miss me? Were we back to square one? I searched his face for clues, but I couldn't tell what he
was thinking at all. A weekend apart with no contact could change many things. An unfamiliar sense of
insecurity crept under my skin. For all of my chatty moments,

I felt a lack of words.

Luckily it was Sandra Jenkins to the rescue. "Sean, do you consider yourself an ice-cream person?"
"Sure." He glanced at me. "I can't survive on vanilla sundae alone, like Flora does, but who doesn't like
ice-cream?"

"Great." Sandra smiled. "There's this new parlor opening up at the intersection of Walsh Street and
Berkeley Ave, and we want to try it."

"We're so sick of Amber's and the banana split," I added, although I loved Amber's and I didn't know
about any new ice cream place until this moment.

"So if you and the guys aren't doing anything later, come join us. Bring Alan, of course. Carmen has
finally decided to give him a chance, and a group date might do the trick." Sandra's lies rolled easily off
her tongue. I knew she was making it less about him to weaken his defense mechanism, although the
part of wanting a group date wasn't a lie.

Carmen was nice enough to help. "I'm not interested in Alan, but I can use some ice-cream. Come?"

"Sure," Sean said. "If Flora's not bugging me about going over our Broadway production one more time,
my schedule is clear."

My heart rose all the way from my three-inched Louboutins back to its usual location. "I can give you a
break," I said, "although you showed me some of the worst acting in human history."

I stood up to leave as the bell rang for homeroom. Sandra was such a good friend. I knew she planned
on going to some gallery with Daniel so she could feel smug about her refinedness, but instead she
deigned to eat artificial sweeteners with us pariahs. I didn't know how anyone's going to survive

without a little bit of Sandy in her life.

***

We were sitting in the ice-cream parlor, and everyone was talking to everyone else excitedly.
Conversations were intersected, and people were cut off.

"I want to tell you guys about something really funny," I started to say, but Jake had a louder voice, and
when he started to brag about the new Jeep he bought, he got everyone's attention. I closed my mouth.

"You were saying?" Sean turned to me, waiting for me to finish.

I smiled across from him and told him my story, and we were in our own little world.

Sometimes on a group date, you still get the feeling that some people are closer than others and they
really just want to be with each other. Like Sean and I, obviously. We fell in steps naturally when we
moved from one place to the other, and I knew I was getting all his attention.

When we'd arrived, he gestured for me to sit in the best seat. The best seat was the one on the sofa
with cushions surrounding it, instead of the stiff chairs close to the busy aisle. As Jake plopped right
down and took away the menu, Sean stood up and got another one for me, asking me what I wanted.
Later he went to get everyone napkins just when I felt like I needed one and was ruffling through my
purse.

It was those little, negligible things that spoke with volume and I totally noticed.
"How's your pineapple smoothie?" I asked, nodding towards his glass.

"I think I like Amber's better."

"Really? Can I try it?" Without waiting for a reply I reached for his straw. I took a long sip and ran my
tongue over my

lips, licking away the smoothie. "Hmmm. You know, it's not bad."

This was a move I had tried many times in front of the mirror to make sure I got it just right. The effect I
was going for was sexy without being slutty, which was extremely hard to pull off, mind you. From the
look on Sean's face I knew I succeeded.

Score one for Team Flora.

"Do you want to try mine?" I offered.

"No, not really."

"Come on, try it! I'm really good at ordering desserts." I scooped up an enormous ball of ice cream and
carefully added a blueberry on top. "Here."

He tried to take the spoon from me, but I dodged. I held it close to his mouth.

Neither of us moved in a split second. I narrowed my eyes, encouraging and challenging him at the same
time. Sean wasn't one to make a fuss, as predicted. He leaned in and swallowed the scoop.

Team Flora scored again!

"How is it?" I tilted my head slightly.

"It's...refreshing."

I smiled. "They claim they use real fruit in their ice cream. I'm not sure I can say the same for your
pineapple thing, but I like it too."

"Well, you can have mine if you want."

I moved closer and curled up my lips. "Only if you feed me."

He looked away and ignored me. He turned to Jake and asked if they decided on a movie yet.

The suggestion of watching a movie had came up earlier, and it was brought up by Sandra. She usually
didn't want to hang with the jocks for too long because she was afraid their vulgarity would rub off on
her, but apparently she decided to extend this date for my sake.

When Queen Jenkins made a request,

no one turned her down, even when she suggested watching a Thai movie about ghosts. Sandra actually
hated all horror genre, gory and slasher movies in particular, but I knew she did this so I could have
excuses to grab Sean or something.

"You're into horror movies?" Jake asked. "I thought you only watched movies with subtitles."
"Well, this one's got subtitles," Sandra said, "and I can't judge horror movies until I see one for myself,
then I can openly talk about how bad they are."

"I think I want to watch the one about car race more," Alan said.

"Alan, if you're scared or something, I'll cover your eyes when the scary parts come on," Sandra said
icily, and no one made any more attempt of objection.

After pushing through the crowd outside and with Sean kind of shielding me with his arm, once in the
movie theater I was conveniently seated next to him. He remembered I didn't like the aisle seat and
made sure of that. I cast a quick glance at his profile in the darkened theater, at his dark lashes and his
perfect face. It was making it very hard for me to concentrate.

A scary scene came on screen and I screamed.

"What's wrong, little Flora?" Sean taunted. I was apparently the only one who screamed.

I opened my mouth to protest that I was only startled (not scared!) when I screamed again, even louder
than the first time. Our eyes met and suddenly I was in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

"Shh..." He reached over and covered my mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh himself. "Shut up. Did
you notice you're the only one making any noise in here?"

"That's why it's so funny..." I choked out.

The woman sitting in front glared at us and Sean whispered a hasty sorry.

Eventually I quieted down. The suspense was building and I really did start to feel nervous, and the
drumming in the background pounded directly on my chest. Tentatively, I slid my fingers across the
armrest and clutched his arm.

After all, I didn't want to waste Sandra's goodwill.

He didn't pull back. Even when I was almost completely leaning against him he didn't pull back. For the
rest of the hour, I concentrated entirely on the movie. Well, almost. That and the warmth coming from
Sean's body.

I wished I could hold his hand.

=================

Chapter 30 The revenge plan

Sean

"You should've come with us yesterday," Jake said to Dylan after practice on Tuesday, while we were all
getting dressed in the locker room. "You missed a really great show."

Dylan slammed his locker shut. "You mean Thai horror? I don't think so."
"No...I thought I was going to be spared some PDA when you and Syd couldn't make it, but instead I got
to watch Flora feeding Sean and lying on him in the movie theater."

Dylan turned to me and whistled. "This is new. What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing's going on," I denied out of reflex. Which was also partly true.

"Flora is a man eater," Jake said.

"She isn't," I said, ignoring the fact that she had chewed and spat me out last time we dated. "And even
if she is, it doesn't concern me."

"Right." Jake laughed. "I'm not blind, you know."

"What's the point of getting back together again? You've been there and done that," Dylan said. For
some reason he made everything he said sound obscene.

"Yeah, you already know all there is to know about her," Jake agreed.

"Flora is a ten, but dating three new sevens is always better than going after the old ten," Dylan
continued. He had lots of relationship guidelines and was always eager to pass on the knowledge. "It's
the surprise factor that counts."

"I'm not getting back with Flora, but I find it unconvincing to hear from you of all people," I said. I
couldn't count how many times Dylan had gone after Sydney after swearing they were over for good.

Dylan smirked. "That's because you don't know the things Syd's capable of. With her tongue."

Jake laughed. He had a few things to add about tongues as well, and the rest of the conversation wasn't
suitable to repeat. As we headed outside, he started commenting on Flora again. "She's pretty hot, but
after looking at her for the fourth year it gets dull. You can do better." He patted me on the shoulder.
"Inspire us."

Flora was never just hot to me, and I didn't ever find it dull to look at her. She was cheery but not dumb,
fiery and seductive without being sleazy, but of course I didn't need to tell them that. "Flora is really
exciting," I settled on saying.

"In bed?" Jake grinned. "Now I get it."

That didn't even deserve an answer. I looked up and saw Linda waiting for me outside. Now that she had
a boyfriend, she only talked to me when she needed a favor. I waved goodbye to my friends, fully
expecting her to ask for a ride to a date somewhere.

Once I got a little closer, I noticed she had been crying. Oh no. "What's wrong?"

"Can you give me a lift home?" she asked in a small voice. Linda being quiet was always a bad sign. The
last time she was quiet was when our dog fell ill, but ever since he died no news was serious enough to
shut her up again.

After she was seated in the car, she started to tell me what happened. "But first you have to promise
not to say anything to mom and dad."
"Linda, please tell me you're not pregnant." I switched

to full-on alarm mode. I thought it was my parents' responsibility to bring up The Talk, but perhaps I
should've said something. I never made any comments about her boyfriend because she never asked.
The way they were all over each other-

She shook her head. "No, it's worse. He dumped me."

"Oh."

"Because I refused to have sex with him."

Compared to the alternative, this was actually not that bad. I was greatly relieved. "At least now you
know you can stop wasting time on him," I said. I was all prepared to launch into how she was better off
without him when Linda began to cry.

"Now he's telling everyone we broke up because we did it and I was really bad at it," she sobbed. "I'm
not even sure how a girl can be bad at sex!"

Dylan would beg to differ, I thought, but this was no time to crack stupid jokes. Her tears panicked me
and I hurriedly handed over tissues. I knew rumors were awful no matter who you were, especially since
Linda was a freshman whose only friend just turned into her enemy. "I'm so sorry to hear that, sis. That
really sucks."

"I know." Linda sniffled. "Especially when we had so many things planned already, like my up-coming
birthday. He won't be there to celebrate it with me now. I feel so betrayed."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"Yes, but he denied it, and now there's nothing I can do. You know how rumors are. It's really hard to
trace the origin and I can't prove he started it, although he most certainly did."

"Are

you sure you don't want mom and dad to know?" I'd better hand this over to the professionals. They
created her, after all, and they shouldn't be allowed to sit out on a crisis.

"No!" Her eyes widened in horror. "I don't want to hear any lecture from them! I already know what
they'll say. They'll ask me to concentrate more on homework. Like you." She found time in her sorrow to
roll her eyes at me.

"How about talking to the guidance counselor?"

"It won't help, and I'm just really mortified. I don't think I want to talk about it," Linda said. Her eyes
were dry finally and she was calming down as we spoke.

"I think it'll all blow over soon."

"I guess." She shrugged. There were a few minutes of silence because I had no idea what to say. I wished
I could turn into Flora for five minutes. She'd have some magical way of cheering her up.
Linda sighed and started talking again. "Actually I blame myself. If I hadn't been so eager to fall in love,
this might never happen. I should've taken my time, get to know some people, enjoy high
school...before I foolishly decide to just marry somebody."

"Maybe you should've taken it slower, but you can't blame yourself. It's not your fault this happened," I
said. "Relationships are hard."

She nodded, then she pulled her lips into a small smile, which looked more like the Linda I recognized.
"You know I'm only telling you this so you can totally beat him up, right?"

We looked at each other and chuckled. "Tell me where you want me to punch him."

"Where else?" She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Kidding. I just want to move on and forget about it."

Linda

was actually acting pretty mature about the whole thing, which strangely made me even sorrier for her.
The only thing more unbearable than a bratty Linda was a non-bratty version. "I'm here if you need me,"
I said.

"Thanks."

"Do you need a hug?" I offered. I wasn't used to us being civilized to each other and it was all kinds of
awkward.

She opened her arms, and I leaned in to hug her. She pulled away less than three seconds later. "Ewww.
Bad idea."

"I agree. Let's never do that again."

She laughed, and I smiled at her before turning the ignition. That was some heart-warming sibling love
right there.

***

"Sean! Join us for our little revenge convention," Flora called out to me in the cafeteria the next day, and
I turned to see Linda sitting with the girls. The incident had come to their attention.

"We heard about what happened and it's so gross," Janet said. "We're now thinking of ways to get
even."

"No, they are," Carmen corrected. "I'm against the whole thing."

"I am, too, actually," Linda said timidly. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Linda! Grow a pair!" Sandra said. "How's a girl supposed to move on unless she has the perfect revenge
underway?"

"How about just leave it to Karma?" Carmen said.

"Carmen, you can leave early if you don't want to take part," Sandra said in her signature bossy tone.
"Karma is what weak people say to each other because they're helpless. Strong people take matters into
their own hands. Now,
Linda, what do you say we make up a rumor too and hurl it back at him?"

"Yes!" Flora nodded. "For example, we can say you never did it because he can't get it up."

Linda looked at me with her eyes silently pleading for help.

"Come on, seriously?" I said. "You don't really believe you have to stoop to his level. I thought the best
revenge is getting on with your life and living well."

Flora scoffed. "Sean, you sound seventy instead of seventeen. I'd toss whatever self-help book you're
reading right now."

"Maybe we can call his parents under a fake name and said he got you pregnant. That'll cause trouble at
home," Sandra said.

Flora's eyes sparkled with impish delight. "I got an even better one. We can post a personal ad for him
along with the line Horny girl looking for fun, then we leave his phone number and address
underneath."

"No, no, no." Linda shook her head frantically. "Please, can we just drop the whole thing?"

"I agree these are not good ideas and they sound like they can backfire," Janet said. "Sean, I say you just
do it the old-fashioned way and punch him in the face. Being a model student for all these years should
earn you the right to throw an occasional punch without getting into trouble."

"Violence works like a charm every time," Sandra agreed.

"You guys are unbelievable," I said. "Violence and playing pranks aren't the answer."

Flora shook her head. "Chivalry is so dead," she said with plain disapproval. "She's your sister and you
can't even defend her."

I knew that was what they all thought and it irritated me. It wasn't that I didn't want to help Linda or I
didn't care, but these just weren't the right way. When lunch hour was over, our little party dissolved
without reaching a unanimous agreement.

Linda moped around the house all week. When I accidentally caught her crying she wiped her tears
away and said she was fine. She acted cheerful and told me she felt much better already, which made
me sick to my stomach. I missed the Linda who was a major pain and got on my nerves all the time. Now
she was just brave and fake and very lonely.

I wanted to do something for her to brighten her spirits, to show her that high school really can be a fun
place, where she makes friends of a lifetime and build foundation for her dreams. I wanted her to know
that one failed relationship doesn't define her and there's a lot more to look forward to out there. If only
she could just snap out of it.

Then I did something that I'd probably regret profoundly. I asked Flora to help me throw a surprise
birthday party for Linda.

=================
Chapter 31 The planning comittee

Flora

Needless to say I was quite astonished when Sean asked me to co-chair a surprise party for Linda, but I
saw the pure genius of it very soon.

What better way to start off high school with a bang than a kickass party? It's a surefire way to climb up
the social ladder, make a name for oneself, and put behind whatever douche ex-boyfriends one used to
have.

Sean came to the right person too. If there was one thing I knew besides fashion and spa treatments, it
was parties. I had always wanted to throw one, but my apartment had a strict zero tolerance policy for
noise, therefore I was forced to throw mini-scale sleepovers for my BFFs. I had been to enough parties
to know what made them work though, and I was eager to put my knowledge to good use.

However, as the discussion with Sean went on, I started to see we had very different expectations.

"I'm going to throw Lindy the best birthday party ever! The kind of party that only exists in dreams and
one wakes up sobbing over."

Sean was already starting to look apprehensive. "That's great, but I have some ground rules you should
be aware of. I want a sweet beautiful party without booze and drugs, and no one having sex in my
parents' bedroom. I also want no puking, crying or fist fights."

"You mean you want a lameass party where no one wants to go," I corrected.

"Any party can be fun when people are wasted and high," he reasoned, "but don't you think it takes real
talent to throw one where everyone is sober? It'd be nice if people can remember to tell it the next
day."

"You sound like you're

challenging me. These days I'm all about challenges."

"It's not a challenge. I know you can do it."

I folded my arms across my chest. "If you want my help, then I'm going to be calling the shots here. I
don't want you breathing down my neck and shaking your head like I'm a rich, spoiled girl with my head
up in the clouds."

"I hope that's not what you think of me. I just want to step on the brakes a little in case things get out of
hand."

"You're allowed to voice your opinion once in a while," I said graciously, "if you raise your hand first and
ask in a nice polite way."

"This is already starting to sound like a bad idea."

"Look, do you want my help or not?" I frowned.

"I do. I do. But maybe I should let you know my budget first."
"Budget?" That's one word I really hated, along with garage sale, secondhand clothes and economy
class, but I didn't want Sean to think I was flaunting money in his face. "Okay, how much are you willing
to spend?"

"Do you think we can keep it under five hundred bucks? That's all I have. Anything more than that I'd
have to ask my parents to chip in."

"Five hundred? I can probably drink five hundred dollars' worth of champagne on my own."

"Yeah, but since we're not serving alcohol, I thought we could save some money."

"But a good DJ costs at least a hundred per hour, plus we have to hire a caterer, and decorations can be
expensive too..." I trailed off seeing the expression on his face. "Dear god, you're not thinking about just
opening a few bags of tortilla chips and playing music from

your iPod, are you?"

His silence proved me right. I couldn't believe this. Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory could probably
throw a better party than Sean ever could. "With all due respect, what are you going to attract people
with? Your charisma? I think maybe five girls will show up."

"That's insulting, Flora. I'd estimate about a dozen."

I laughed. "Sean, you're charming, but that's not enough." Unless you show up naked. "An awesome
party requires a lot of investment and great efforts."

"You just do everything so over the top," he said fondly.

"I have to! You give me very little to work with, you know. I almost thought we're planning an Amish
village gathering," I said. "Remind me again why this is the most amazing party in the history of Riverside
High?"

"I never aimed to set a record or to establish myself as the party king. I just want Linda to have a good
time and get her mind off the rumors."

"Then maybe you should just invite a couple of girls over, have them braid each other's hair and call it a
night."

"Actually, that's a pretty good idea. I know I can save a lot and spend it on college application instead."
He smiled at me. "Fine, Flora. Do it your way. Work your magic."

That was quite a nice smile there. No, I mustn't get distracted. "Wait a second, why am I doing this for
you?" Seeing that Sean wanted a favor from me, I needed to put his desperation to good use.

"Because...you care about Linda too and you want to help?"

"I do, but this is going to take up a tremendous amount of my time. I'm actually preparing

to take the SAT for the third time, and between studying, cheerleading practices and the history
presentation, I'm obscenely busy. If you want to hire me, you have to pay a price."
Sean's eyes widened. "You want to charge me? You can take your wage out of the five hundred dollar
budget, but I don't think that's going to be enough to afford you."

"Sean, I'm not asking to be paid in cash. That's so vulgar," I said, shaking my head. I didn't want to take
advantage of his measly budget. He probably worked many summer jobs for it. "I want three wishes.
You have to do the things I ask of you without objection."

He studied my face to see if I was kidding. When he realized I wasn't, he said, "You can get one, Flora."

"Fine, I'm out. Ask someone else to help you. Raymond Corbett can plan a good party too."

He exhaled. "Okay, fine, you get two wishes. Take it or leave it. I don't want to throw Linda a party that
bad."

"Okay, deal." I held out my hand so we could shake on it, but he was wary.

"It can't be those wishes that multiply into a thousand ones like I have to do whatever you say for the
rest of the senior year."

"It goes without saying." I nodded.

He mused for a while. "It can't be illegal or get me expelled like cheating on the SAT for you."

I rolled my eyes. What did he take me for, anyway? I could ace the damn SATs on my own.

"It can't be something humiliating like asking me to wear makeup," he went on. "I don't want to lose the
five fans I have."

"Fine, nothing that will get you in trouble and no public embarrassment, okay? Jeez!

I don't know why you're asking me for help if you don't trust me at all!"

He grabbed my hand and gave it a quick shake. "Forgive me for being so particular," Sean said
sheepishly. "I tend to be cautious when I'm making deals with the devil."

***

Sean said he didn't care who we invited as long as it included Linda's friends from middle school, so I
held full responsibility in drawing up a guest list which spanned across the whole student body.

Carmen had already talked to Linda for me and asked her to give a list of the fifteen people she liked
best in her classes, telling her it was a project for her Sociology class. Later Daniel would take some
photos of Linda, telling her it was for a photography contest he was entering. This secret party had
brought out everyone's hidden talent of telling creative lies.

Sean and I were sitting alone in a corner table at lunch and I had just given him an update. "If only we
weren't keeping this a secret! I could make those freshmen pledge to come to our party. They need to
prove they're worthwhile," I said, chewing on a vegetable stick. I couldn't seem to break off a bite
because it was so soggy.

Being the goody-goody he was, Sean said, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this cool-people-only
attitude. I don't want people to think we're stuck-up."
"Sean, don't be ridiculous. Of course only cool people are invited to my party. I'm not throwing a charity
event, for god's sake." A party is only as cool as the people who attend anyway. "However, you may be
surprised at my definition of cool people."

"You mean

you're not only inviting people who are good at sports?"

"No! Of course not! I'm going to break the stereotype cliques and invite people from all walks of life,
regardless of race, religious beliefs, and whether they like Obama. You'd be surprised at just how
politically correct this party is. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like there will be a lot of people. How many are we talking about, really?"

That's just how he was. He couldn't be happy with my decisions for one second before he had to rain on
my parade.

"Around a hundred," I said airily.

"A hundred?" His eyebrows shot up. "I thought I said thirty!"

"Please." I scoffed. "If you don't invite a lot of people and create a tight dance floor, I don't know how
you can get people to let loose without alcohol. I'm not going to host a party where 30 people just stare
at one another soberly and awkwardly across the room."

He took a long sip from his apple juice and appeared to be considering how to phrase his next sentence.
"I'm just curious how you can keep this a secret with a hundred people involved. And you seriously know
a hundred people well enough to invite them?"

"You have to know a person well before you can invite him to a party?" What kind of question was that?

He leaned back and looked at me. "You're not using this as an excuse to invite all your crushes, are
you?"

I put down the celery stick I had been chewing unsuccessfully for the past five minutes and turned to
face him squarely. "Sean Foster, you're truly the most ungrateful human being I've ever known. I'm
working my ass off to

make this a memorable event and you don't even appreciate it. I don't know which is more insulting,
you think that I'm using this for my own benefit, or the fact that you think I need to throw a party in
order to attract a guy." If there was any guy I was hoping to attract it would be Sean himself, but now I
really thought why I bothered.

He apologized right away. "I was only kidding, but it's not funny. I'm sorry."

"If I don't have such a strong work ethic I'd quit right now and walk right out of here," I snapped. He
acted like he was doing me a favor by letting me throw his party. That was Mighty King at his worst,
being condescending while I lent him a hand.

"I apologize. Please don't be mad at me."

When I didn't smile, he tentatively tugged on my sleeve like I used to do to him.

I chuckled uselessly. "Okay, that's kind of cute, coming from you."

"Come on, I'm a guy. I say stupid things. I know you're working really hard and I'm grateful. I'm just a
little bit concerned about the budget," he said with an embarrassed smile.

Working on this thing together brought out all our differences. He was controlling, patronizing, sensible
to the point of boring, and on top of that quite broke, but the weirdest thing was that I found all his
flaws endearing. The King obviously could pull anything off.

"Anything over five hundred dollars I'll chip in," I said. Most of the expensive ideas were mine anyway.

"No! I can't let you pay. You're already doing me a huge favor by agreeing to help me. Maybe we can
invite less people?" he asked.

"You know, with less people it'd seem more elite, don't you think? Like a private club."

I shook my head, pretending to be disgusted. "Now who's being stuck-up?"

"Please?" He held his palms together and peered at me like a little boy asking for candy.

Not fair. Too cute. The way he tiptoed around his suggestions made me smile. I got super cranky all the
time and he was afraid of infuriating me. I bet the question he asked himself every night before sleep
was why he chose me to co-host the party with him.

"Fine, okay, I'll try cutting a few more people."

He smiled. We talked a bit more and was having a good laugh when Daniel appeared. He had already
taken a few photos of us together.

"We're doing some shots of the planning committee," Sandra said beside him smugly as if she was his
agent and Dan just won the National Geographic photo contest. She lowered herself to the seat next to
me and allowed Daniel to take her photos for maybe fifty times.

Fancy Sandra had the cheek to call herself one of the planning committee. The only thing she managed
to plan was what she'd wear to the party. I wasn't complaining though, because she did a great job
hanging on to Daniel for over a year, and in times of need it was considered a huge accomplishment. I
had my doubts about Daniel, but I was just grateful they were still dating because I could use some great
photos to decorate the party.

Daniel was quirky and eccentric, and I often didn't understand what he was saying, but Sandra excused
everything by explaining he was an artist. I remember he once rented a tiny exhibition space downtown
and Sandra dragged us to see his artworks. All of his paintings were abstract ones, which could be best
described as Picasso gone wrong meets a little bit of cocaine high.

In one of them, Sandra very secretively yet proudly announced that she was his muse and she had posed
nude for him. Me and the girls almost wet ourselves laughing.

"I feel so much closer to Daniel now," I said, blinking away tears. "He's just a normal teenage boy after
all, -"
"Who would say anything just to get you naked," Janet finished my sentence. Not even Carmen could
hold back her laughter which was just how hilarious the whole thing was. We pointed at random circles
and kept bugging Sandra to tell us which one of them was her nipp1e, and she stormed off majorly
pissed while we took selfies with the painting and tagged her.

Ah, good times. But I digress. Back to the cafeteria.

Linda had come in and Daniel casually strolled over to take her photo with his massive DSLR, telling her
how photogenic she was, which could be sort of true. Linda was Sean's sister, after all. Gorgeousness ran
in their blood. They had the same dark hair, piercing blue eyes and long dark lashes which I always
thought was a great combination.

If Daniel was any good at the job he did, this party was going to be fabulous.

=================

Chapter 32 The winter wonderland

Sean

Flora dove headfirst into party planning, and I suddenly found myself engaged in secret meetings with
her all the time. One of these nights we were talking on the phone, and as I glanced at the time I saw it
had passed midnight. I had a feeling of déjà vu. That was how it had been when we were together,
talking and losing track of time, although back then the phone conversations were a lot dirtier.

"At first I wanted to do a Great Gatsby themed party, but then I decided against it because I don't want
to see a lot of fake pearls and ugly jewelry," Flora said. I lay in bed with my eyes closed, letting her voice
swirl around me. "So how about this? We will have a winter theme. It's easy because I'll just ask people
to wear colors like light blue, white and silver. I'm seeing lots of chiffon, silk, satin, and sequins....are you
listening to me?"

"Yes. You were saying you want a winter theme." I was really only half-concentrating. She could be
reading the obituary from the paper for all I cared. I just wanted to hear her voice.

"Right. I mean, it's only October, but like fashion I like to be one step ahead. I don't want people to dress
up as characters. After all, I don't trust these freshmen's taste and I don't want a tacky costume party.
But if they really want a costume they can be fairies in winter wonderland. What do you think?"

"I think it's great." I think I don't care.

"I have a million ideas already. I want ice-sculptures in the driveway, white, silver and light blue balloons
and silver streamers, a disco ball, some lanterns, a projector

that projects snowflakes and stars, and I'm going to move all the furniture in your living room," Flora
was talking a mile a minute. "I'll divide the room into game zone, dance floor, lounge area, snack bar,
and hot food stand, but there won't be too many seats because I want people on their feet so there's a
good flow. And speaking of food, I'm thinking a white chocolate fountain, cookies with frosting, some
light blue drinks like Calpis, sprinkling soda water, designer cupcakes with silver sprinkles, and maybe a
candy floss machine and a slushie machine."
I did a quick calculation of how all of the above mentioned was going to cost and hated almost
everything she suggested. It was also very hard for me to get excited about white chocolate fountain
and cupcakes. I really just wanted pizza, although Flora was likely to complain that it didn't go with the
party theme colors.

Why did I ask her to plan a party for me? I must have a self-destructive personality disorder. Or maybe I
just wanted an excuse to call her all the time.

"Flora, you sound like you're planning Branjolina's wedding reception."

"I know, isn't it grand? I'm debating if we should order customized water bottles with Linda's face on it,
or print life-sized cardboard photos of Linda at all stages of life," she said.

"Probably not. The idea of Linda staring at me from a hundred water bottles is a bit eerie. I hate to be a
joy-killer, but how are we going to pay for all that?"

She was only silent for a second. "Maybe we should add a cover charge. People tend to think
something's more precious when they need

to pay for it."

"Flora! I'm not going to charge people for coming to a home party! It's tacky, if not illegal." What world
did she grow up in?

She laughed, a stream of pearls in white, blue and silver. "Kidding, Sean. I found a way to work around
the DJ and caterer. I used to know this guy Jason who was a pretty good DJ and he agreed to do it for
free. Also I met someone on a family vacation in Fiji. His mom is a caterer, so I'm going to get a huge
discount. I'm pulling all connections to fit everything under your budget, so don't worry."

Maybe I was being ungrateful, but the idea of Flora getting in touch with all her long lost ex-boyfriends
just about killed it for me. "On second thought, I'd rather we just pay."

Flora went on as if she hadn't heard. "I can ask a lot of cute guys to dance with Linda and post photos all
over Instagram. That Ray Sandler is going to look like a total loser."

Only she could pull guys out of a hat like rabbits. She really is a man-eater, I decided. When we
graduated she would forget me and she wouldn't think of me again unless she needed some favors,
which hurt.

I sighed. "I really don't feel like inviting any of your ex-boyfriends to my house."

There was a short pause. "You always sound so cute when you are jealous," she said after a light
chuckle.

"I'm not jealous. I just think having them over will make this seem like a really weird, creepy Flora
Morgan's ex-boyfriend support group."

"Ouch," she said. "Did you just compare me with testicular cancer or something?"

"Flora, I really don't know what to say.

Considering the fact that I'm just one of your ex-boyfriends, it's not my place to say anything. But yeah,
it kind of sucks, and...fine, I admit I'm a little jealous."

I shouldn't have said that. Late nights do that to people and we become strangely honest. My pulse
quickened and she wasn't even in person; just talking to her had the effect of tugging on all the
emotional strings.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. What did I expect her to say anyway? I wasn't her boyfriend
anymore and I was still acting possessive.

"Not that I need to explain to you," she said, "but I want to explain anyway. These guys are still my
friends and they help me when I need them. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I'm sure I can find some
girl among my 900 friends to DJ and cater. And for the record, you're not just an ex-boyfriend to me."

"Really? Then what am I?" I felt like such a whiner.

"You're a really hot ex-boyfriend." She laughed. "Seriously, though..." She broke off, then finally said,
"You're an amazing person who will always have a special place in my heart. Even though we aren't
together anymore, I admire you and I wish the best for you."

I was at a loss for words. That was really...nice.

She groaned. "Oh dear that's really corny isn't it?"

"Yes. Be sure to add that in our history play." I pretended not to be flattered.

She chuckled. "Yeah, I think that's where it belongs. Well, anyways, I think I'm gonna crash," she said,
yawning in my ear. She sounded so close I could almost feel her. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Good night, Flora. Thanks again

for this."

"Don't mention it." She seemed half-asleep already. "I like hearing your voice right before I fall asleep,"
she mumbled in the middle of another yawn.

"Me too," I said quietly. I wasn't even sure she heard me.

***

At lunch one day, Flora sat herself down and interrupted our discussion about the NBA game the night
before. She never had to ask if she was imposing because in her world, everyone was just killing time
talking about insignificant matters before she showed up.

"Dylan, Jake, I forgot if I told you about our party," Flora said in a very fast pace. "I've talked to so many
people and you guys are so obviously invited I'm not sure if I mentioned it already."

"Yeah, we know, Sean told us," Dylan said. "But as soon as we heard there's not gonna be a keg, we fell
asleep." Their idea of a party was one where we could hover around the keg and race one another to
unconsciousness.
"We're going to be trend-setters, and after this the only definition of cool parties will be non-alcoholic
ones," Flora said.

"We're old-fashioned people who think there's no party unless we can get free booze and embarrass
ourselves after we get wasted," Jake said. "But yeah, we'll drop by to support you."

"Actually I'm going to need you to do more than that," Flora said. "Can you two be bouncers? I'll need
you to be on the lookouts for gatecrashers and confiscate wine bottles if you see one, and possibly do a
bag-check at the door."

"What?" Dylan asked. I was fairly surprised myself at how far Flora was taking this. A bag-check seemed
pretty extreme.

"It's

not even going to be a BYOB party?" Jake sighed.

"Flora, if anyone's going to sneak in a wine bottle and cause trouble, it will be these two," I said. "Don't
worry, I'll do it myself."

"Sean, you can't do everything yourself. In times of need this is what friends are for." She gave the guys
a pointed look.

"We are the kind of friends who laugh at him when he fails," Dylan said. "Not the ones who celebrate his
baby sister's birthday wearing party hats."

Flora heaved a sigh. "Hear me out first." She went on to describe her winter theme and her dessert table
which was no doubt a very bad idea because I knew these guys wouldn't humor her like I would.

"Hmmm. Flora, it sounds fantastic, but you know what else you need to go with your fairies and
enchanted forest?" Jake pretended to be munching on the idea. He raised his head as though hit by
epiphany. "A unicorn."

"And we need to play spin-the-bottle and set up a booth for painting toe-nails," Dylan added.

"I love fortune-tellers too," Jake continued. "Ooh please tell me you're going to hire one."

"Come on guys, cut it out." Beside me I could sense Flora's temper rising up. If it was Janet I might have
put in a snarky remark too, but this was Flora, and I knew she hated being made fun of when she was
being serious.

"Jake, I don't need a fortune-teller to know where you'll end up in five years," Flora said hotly. "You'll be
pumping gas for my Porsche."

Jake laid a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "That's harsh, Flora. I always thought we would be
flipping burgers side-by-side at McDonald's."

Dylan

laughed in support.
"Hey, stop. It's not funny," I said, although it was a little funny and I was tempted to laugh myself. I
didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Flora is only doing this because I begged her to."

Dylan shook his head. "Dude, that's what you get for asking a girl to host your party for you. You can
throw one on your own. Just buy some pizzas and order a few kegs and you get yourself an awesome
party."

"I did order some kegs, Dylan, just so you can have that illusion of a keg party, but I'll be serving root
beers," Flora said in a menacing tone. "You guys can try pretending it's real beer. With your IQ it really
shouldn't be hard."

"The non-alcohol part is my idea," I interrupted quickly. "Flora was against it too but she went along
with it and is trying very hard to make it work. I know it's not cool but with so many underage people I
really don't have a choice, and if you don't want to come it's really fine with me. But she put a lot of
effort into this so give her a break."

"Are we being uninvited?" Dylan gasped in feigned hurt, then he turned to Flora. "Sean always gets
super pissed when we pick on the girl he likes."

There were just so many things to protest to I didn't know where to start. "I'm not pissed. You're
welcomed to come and laugh at me if you want. Just remember to bring your own unicorn." And that
was the girl I liked but either admitting or denying seemed like a mistake.

"We're just kidding, Flora. You know that, right?" Jake said. "Any party you throw will of course be the
best."

"Yes, and we'll even do your stupid bag-check

for you," Dylan said and Jake nodded beside him in agreement.

Flora's face broke into an instant smile. "Thanks, guys! I know if I dig hard enough, under all that false
pretense there is a heart of gold."

"Really? After digging for all these years I haven't managed to find anything," I said. "But during the
process I've gotten myself really filthy."

They all laughed. "We only have positive influence on you," Jake said. "You'd be even lamer than you're
now if not for us."

"We'll just drink somewhere else before the party and numb the pain," Dylan said.

"Why are you so uptight about underage drinking anyway?" Jake asked. "I can't count how many times
you've played beer pong with us."

"And you nearly passed out on Alan's couch last year. We almost had to carry you home," Dylan added. I
wished he didn't bring that up. I was in a very dark place then because it was when Flora and I broke up.
"That was actually a lot of fun, I mean, some of the things you said-"

He needed to be cut off fast. "I have to be more responsible because it's going to be a big party and it's
held at my house. If anything happens my parents would be held responsible. I really don't want to
cause trouble for them," I explained and smiled. "How's that for being lame?"
"I think I have to make a confession at Church Sean," Dylan said. "I forgot to kiss my mom this morning
and tell her I love her."

***

After lunch break was over, I stayed behind with Flora ritually and waited for her to walk to history class
together.

"You know what's amazing about you?" Flora started,

tilting her face toward me. "You really don't care about people finding out how boring you are. You
seem so comfortable being yourself that you do all these very uncool, embarrassing things like studying
all the time, throwing your sister a party, defending me, worrying about your parents and being
responsible...aren't tough guys like you supposed to act like they don't give a crap about anything?"

Was she telling me I was amazing or uncool? I lost track. "Flora, if you're so bad at giving compliments,
maybe you should just stick to telling me I'm cute or something."

"You are just so good."

"You make good sound like a swear word."

She smiled. "My point is, you can totally pull it off! You make these things seem like the cool things to
do, and you have friends who like you for it."

"I don't really think about if certain things are considered cool, and I'm not sure that's what my friends
like about me."

She nodded. "Yeah. Maybe they like you for the same reason I do. Because you're cute or something."

I chuckled. We walked in silence for few seconds, then I said, "You know what's so amazing about you?"

"What?"

"That although you think I do uncool things, you always support me."

It was true. I thought of all those times before when I had to study, she would defend me and tell people
she believed I would do awesome things in life. She stayed up studying history saying she didn't want to
disappoint me. She took care of my sister more than I did, and she respected my parents. She hated
throwing a party where everyone would be sober but she stuck to her words (and my pathetic budget)
and worked on it.

I felt so lucky to have known this girl.

Flora shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, that's me. The supportive girl-" She stopped, and a rare look of
embarrassment crossed her face.

"I mean, friend. I'm a very supportive friend," she corrected and looked away.

For the first time in a very long time, I had the delicious illusion that Flora wished we were something
more.

=================
Chapter 33 The candy floss

Flora

"I found the perfect solution to your question," I said to Sean after we sat down at the student's lounge,
which had quickly become a popular hangout for us. It wasn't exactly doing wonders for my image as a
cool kid, but I was willing to let it pass. At least I was seen with another cool kid.

"Which question is that?"

"How to keep this a secret with a hundred people involved," I replied. "By the way, I narrowed it down
to 75, but that's it."

I clicked on the laptop he brought over and typed in a link. "This is a private link which logs on to this
amazing webpage. I sent this link via e-mail to the people I invited, and only they can see the website."

I explained as I demonstrated. "Look, at first a terms of agreement will pop up, and by clicking on the
box below, you've agreed to keep this party a total secret and swear not to bring anything forbidden, or
else Sandra Jenkins will personally haunt you down and do what is necessary to you." I laughed proudly.

"You did this yourself?" The amazement was transparent in his voice. At that moment I wished
wholeheartedly that the answer was yes so he would be proud of me.

"No, of course not," I said. "Do you know Randy Muller from the computer club? He's really brilliant.
Look at how fancy this is!" I scrolled down the page and showed him what Randy had created. There was
a home page telling people what the party was for, lists of volunteer jobs and items we needed, spaces
for messages and for picture upload. "When this party is over I'll show this to Linda so she can see all the
photos and birthday wishes.

Anyway, this party really opens my mind and forces me to interact with people. I never thought I'd say
this before, but guys who are good with computers are kind of hot. He's so smart the way he types away
with just a few clicks, and voila!"

"This is really amazing, but I know how to build a webpage too," he said quietly. "I wish you had asked
me instead."

Of course he knew how, I realized, although it had completely escaped my mind earlier. There was
nothing remotely nerdy Sean couldn't do.

I nudged him playfully. "Did I just sense a little bit of jealousy there? You don't like me saying some other
guy is smart?"

"No, I'm just saying I can help out more. I feel like you're doing all the work."

"You did most of the work in our history project too." I laughed. "I just write all the unnecessary corny
lines. It's okay."

"And you're being a really good sport about it too," he said. "You include me in everything although I'm
of no help. Makes me ashamed about the way I treated you for the presentation. I want to apologize if I
ever made you feel like you're inferior or anything because you're a great partner." He stared at me
straight as he said it, his wonderful blue eyes slowly drilling a hole in me.
"Oh, you're just mocking me." I waved him off giggling. My cheeks were starting to burn. He always
knew how to make me shy! "I didn't do all that much either. I just know how to boss people around.
Besides, you're the coordinator. There will be a lot to double check on the day of the party, and you're
the only one I can trust, so don't even start thinking there's no job for you."

"Of course.

Just let me know if I can help with anything."

"I'm going to need you Saturday afternoon, but other than that, I've got pretty much everything under
control," I said. "You'd be shocked at how willing people are to help out. Every time I post something on
the webpage, someone eagerly grabs it. People are bringing food and lots of free supplies. It's like one
big project which everyone's participating in, and they love to contribute, you know?" I had come to
know a lot of great people, and if I weren't already the most popular girl at school, now I definitely was.
Party planning was so much fun!

"I know you're doing this so we can save money. I don't know how to thank you," Sean said. His face was
all grateful, and I was sure he liked the words help, free, and contribute. The key to a man's heart is
through guarding his wallet, I guess.

"Oh, come on. These days you're all about thanking me and apologizing," I said. "To tell you the truth,
I'm glad you asked me for help. I feel like for once in my life I'm actually not completely useless."

"You feel useless?" He looked utterly shocked. I felt utterly stupid.

"Well, not useless," I corrected. It was too strong a word to describe what I felt. "It's just sometimes I
feel really...empty compared to my friends. Sort of...unaccomplished. I'm all fluff. I'm like a cloud of pink
candy floss which looks good to eat but without any real substance. I mean Janet is a small celebrity with
her

band, Sandy may be a meanie on the outside but she is actually deep, and Carmen. I don't even need to
tell you about how well-read Carmen is. And of course I always feel super inadequate in front of you."
And your ex-girlfriend Leslie who played at Carnegie Hall and ate grilled Paganini sandwiches on a daily
basis did not help matters much, either.

Sean looked at me with an unreadable expression, and I suddenly felt sillier than I already did. He was
the last person I should be admitting my insecurities to.

I put on my sweetest candy-floss-adorned smile. "Not that I don't think I'm fabulous the way I am, of
course. Forget my stupid rambling."

I turned to the laptop, avoiding his gaze of possible sympathy. I didn't want to make Sean feel sorry for
me or force him to come up with something nice to say. I was never the type of girl to have people
worrying over. I was always the entertainment provider, the class clown in designer jeans and perfect
hair.

"Flora," Sean said softly, and he lay his hand over mine gently.

I looked at him in embarrassment, hating myself for having such a big mouth. I didn't hate the warmth
of his hand, though. I felt less bad about dumping all that on him immediately.
"I never knew," he said. "I can't believe you think like that about yourself. I guess self-doubt happens to
even the most fabulous of us." His tone was kind and sincere, without any trace of mockery. "You have
something very valuable about you, Flora. You were born with it and it can't be taught. You have-"

"Money?"

He smiled. "You have people skills."

"You mean I use people as

tools."

"No, you have the power to make people help you willingly. You have a natural-born talent of smoothing
every conversation and handling every awkward social situation."

"I thought I'm the creator of awkward social situations."

He ignored me. "You may let Sandra boss you around but I know you're a leader. You have charisma and
creativity. You're going to make a difference in the world."

"You sound like a lousy public service ad, Sean," I scolded, trying to hide how flustered I felt. Sean always
had the power to make me weak in the knees with his mouth. But this time it was actually not because
of his kisses.

"Flora, you need to learn how to take a compliment, especially when I'm much better at giving one than
you are."

I giggled. I had no idea Sean saw so much in me.

Was that even possible? How could it be that the cutest guy at school was also the only one that could
see past my brainless cheerleader façade?

I felt the attack of an old, familiar feeling, the feeling of something warm and fuzzy expanding in me, like
the first time he told me I was witty and my sense of humor was sexy.

Not cool, Flora. You were supposed to make him fall in love with you, not the other way around.

"Well, thank you, Sean," I said, bowing my head. "But don't think for a second that just because you're
saying nice things to me, you can get out of doing your payment. I told you I'm not doing this party thing
pro bono. Just don't whine about it when I come to collect my wishes."

"I don't dare forget I'm your fairy godmother." He rolled his eyes.

I flashed him an evil grin, making him sweat a little. The truth was I had no idea what I was going to ask
of him yet, but I knew I didn't want to disappoint him and I wanted this to work because it was his party.

I couldn't let people say Sean Foster threw lame parties, although he didn't even care himself. I was
honestly planning this wholeheartedly with the sole purpose of making him happy.

Oh, and Linda too. Mustn't forget this was about Linda.

.
=================

Chapter 34 The perfect moment

Sean

Flora asked me to run some errands with her on the weekend, and we sat in her car going over some
last details. Linda's birthday was next Friday but we were only having a small family celebration, and the
party would take place on Saturday. Flora planned to take Linda shopping in the afternoon while I took
charge of everything at home, and she had decided to run it by me one last time.

"We will start with some popular songs for the first hour, then the ceiling lights will dim and we light up
the string lights and lanterns, and music will get louder. At roughly ten you can give a small speech, you
know, thank everyone for coming, talk about how amazing I have been,---"

"Apologize to people for your bossiness," I interrupted.

"Yes, then we bring out the cake. This cake will blow your mind because this is the only thing I have
custom made." She went on to describe every frivolous detail about the flavor, coloring and ornaments
and I found myself spacing out. I pulled my attention back from her full lips and back to her words as she
started going over the time schedule.

"At midnight, the power will be cut off and send the whole house in darkness for about two minutes,
then when the lights come back on we will have Janet and her band on stage, and they will play one
more hour until the party ends. How's that sound?"

"It sounds awesome, but I'm thinking maybe we can bring out the cake at eight and cut the power at
ten? Then maybe we can send everyone home at eleven and finish cleaning up at midnight," I
suggested.

"But that's so early!" Flora whined.

"We have

lots of freshmen as you know. They might have a curfew."

"Fine." She pouted. "Although the whole point of blacking out is for it to occur at midnight, so that we
have a Cinderella feel. You know, party ends at midnight. Except it doesn't. You know what I mean."

"Yes, and that's a really good idea too. But listen to me on this one?" Don't get mad.

"All right," she gave in with a defeated sigh.

"I have arranged transportation and parking spaces for everyone so Linda won't see so many cars parked
out front when you guys come back. You can park your car in our driveway," I said.

"I can't believe I forgot about that! Thank god this party doesn't fall flat two seconds before the grand
entrance," she gushed. "You are a lifesaver!"

"Didn't log on the internet last night?" I asked with a smile. "I posted on your fabulous little webpage.
I'm not being sarcastic, by the way. It's very convenient to send out information."
"I know, right?" She smiled contently and leaned her head back, letting out a whoosh of breath. "Just
one more week to go. I think everything's under control but I'm still very antsy about it. Everything has
to be perfect. A party is not like your meticulous physics answer sheet; many things can go wrong," she
warned. "If Linda's tears don't fall in three seconds, I'm going to kill you."

I laughed at how serious her expression was, like we were talking about brain surgery. She was always
so cute like that. "Flora, it's just a party. We will have a good time nevertheless."

"It's not just a party, it's the party," she corrected sternly. "People

will refer to it simply as The Party even after we graduate."

"Ok, ok. I'll make sure Linda cries. If she doesn't I'll pinch her."

***

Flora started the engine and drove towards my street. She said we had to visit all the neighbors and
inform them of this event, and possibly invite them.

"My neighbors won't want to go to a high school party, I can guarantee you," I told her.

"I know, I don't want them there either. We are just acting polite and socially acceptable," she explained
patiently. "Do you have a good reputation in the neighborhood? I don't want people slamming their
doors in our faces."

"Well, I haven't been torturing pets or setting mailboxes on fire, if that's what you mean."

"Good!" she said brightly. "We have to do everything right, that's all. I don't want your neighbors to hate
you after this."

We went about the houses and Flora was all smiles, apologizing about noise level in advance. We
assured them that the party would end before midnight and people were very understanding. No one
could be unpleasant to Flora when she was on her best behavior, with her perfect manners and chirpy
attitude.

When the mission was completed, Flora said there was one last stop. She wanted to say hello to my
parents and remind them of the party.

"My parents already know and they are fine with it," I said, but Flora insisted she wanted to talk to them
in person. When we were seated in the living room, I finally knew what she was up to.

"Mr. and Mrs. Foster, I'm wondering if you can do me a favor," Flora said shyly. "My parents

got free tickets to see this great jazz band at the bar downtown where they will be playing live. I heard
they serve amazing prime ribs too. Anyway, it's next Saturday but we are going to throw Linda her party
so I can't go."

I couldn't believe Flora had this planned and she didn't even tell me. She was going to ask my parents to
leave the house, but she was trying to do it in a tactful way.

"I remember you said you love jazz," she went on. "If you can go for me I'd be really grateful because I
don't want these tickets to go to waste."
My parents exchanged a look and laughed.

"Flora, that's generous of you," my mom said.

My dad nodded in agreement. "You went to such great length to get us out of the house, we'd feel rude
if we turn you down. But we are not sure leaving this party unattended is the best idea."

Flora made a face. "Busted," she said. "But I wasn't lying about the music and the prime ribs. You have
been really kind to me and I want to do something in return, and I thought it'd be nice if you can have a
good night out while we occupy your house and cause all the inconveniences. You know, just the two of
you. To remind yourselves of how you were when you met in Brussels?"

"It certainly beats sitting in another room covering your ears waiting for the party to be over," I helped
to persuade them, thinking it would be better if they thought I was in on this, even though I wasn't sure
leaving this party unattended was the best idea either. "We will clean up everything before midnight."

"Sean is really responsible so you can trust him. When you come

back you won't even know there has been a party," Flora said. "And of course we will lock all the doors
and only leave the living room open to guests." She went on to elaborate on everything she had read
about survival tips on throwing a safe party, including notifying the police department in advance, just
to show my parents we knew what we were talking about.

I hadn't been totally honest with them about the scale of the party. When I vaguely said we would invite
just some of our friends, clearly they didn't know how many of Flora's friends we were talking about. I
doubted they would be so understanding if the truth was revealed.

"Well, if you promise to supervise the party and make sure nothing gets out of hand, then I guess we
won't be there to interfere," my mom said to me. "A night out by ourselves does sound lovely."

***

"That was a bold move," I said when we were back in her car. "You could have checked with me first."

"I wanted to, but you would've talked me out of buying those tickets. I get the feeling your folks won't
be offended," Flora explained. "I think they are cool and I like them, but I just can't let any parental
figure ruin this party for us. Parents and cool party don't appear in the same sentence."

"Only you have the balls to directly confront the parents and drive them out of their own house."

She glanced at me with apprehension. "You are not upset, are you?"

"No, I'm just a little surprised. I didn't know you have such a scheming side to you."

She looked worried. "Would that make you think less of me?"

It didn't,

actually. I told her this and she smiled in relief.

"But I have to admit now that my parents won't be there, I'm a little worried."

"Worried about what? People will have a good time?"

"If anything gets out of hand I'd really be causing my parents a lot of trouble." I thought of all those
horror stories on the news, teen-party getting out of control with 2000 people showing up and burning
down a house, and how some parents faced charges when the underage party-goers died committing
DUI, that sort of things. "And I don't know half of the people you are inviting. If I remember correctly
you even invited your nail artist."

"Oh, you mean Bree. She knows more about me than my brothers do!"

I smiled weakly.

"Sean, you are worried about safety while I worry about fun. We really are quite a pair." She gave my
hand a very quick squeeze. "But if you have your concerns why did you help me persuade them?"

I wanted to ask myself the same question. "I don't know. I think you can talk me into almost anything."

Flora smiled. "I have personally begged each and every one of our guests to behave. You just have to
trust humanity."

"Flora, I trust humanity, that's why I'm so worried. Have you read Lord of the Flies? That's what happens
when a group of teenagers take charge."

Flora laughed and reached over suddenly to ruffle my hair. Her eyes were warm, as was the touch of her
fingers. "Sean, you are such an adorable nerd. We will survive this together."

"Yeah, it's only four hours. I don't think people will start killing each other yet."

We smiled

at each other, then she gunned the engine.

As we drove through the streets in top speed because she had zero patience, I found myself thinking
about history. What I learned from history is we don't learn from history at all. We are destined to
repeat the same mistakes, fight the same arch-nemesis, lose the same battles, and fall for the wrong
girl. I liked her when she was daring and direct, when she giggled innocently and flirted with me, when
she got competitive, when she acted cranky but burst into laughter a second later, and I liked her even
when she was scheming. It felt good that we were in this together.

"If it's any consolation, it really is a very good jazz band," Flora said.

"I'll pay you back for the tickets."

She actually looked a little offended. "Can you not talk about money all the time? I just want to do
something nice for you."

"I know, and I'm touched. But I don't want to take advantage of you financially."

"How about you just buy me coffee?" she suggested. "You know some really cool places. Let's get take
outs."

While she drove, she was getting lots of phone calls, and Flora talked into her mouthpiece like a real
executive as if she was giving orders about stock exchange.
"Greg, if you can't tell what flourishing branches and twigs look like, then I'm seriously going to doubt
your artistic ability. It has to be big! I want it sprayed white, and then we can add those white string
lights on it. Yes, the lights have to be white LEDs. I don't want any of those colorful ones during
Christmas," she said briskly.

A second later there

was another call.

"Henry, don't worry about not being able to help out in specific areas. I've decided to appoint you head
of the cleaning squad." I smiled in amusement at how businesslike she was. "It's your job to find your
own crew members and you are responsible for making it look like we never had a party when Sean's
parents come back. OK?"

I left the car to get us coffee, and when I came back she was still in the middle of a phone conversation.
"I'm going to need cookies in the shape of snowmen, snowflakes and Christmas trees. Yes, about fifty
each, with white sugar coating on it. Oh Marie. You are going to bake me cupcakes too? I think I'm going
to cry."

"You sound really professional," I said. "Like you have been giving out parties for years."

"This is actually my first party so I'm a wreck, really," she said modestly. "Look, do you think we can stop
at the park for a while? I need to find some good-looking branches because Greg doesn't know what to
look for. I'm going to set up a small white shiny forest of branches," she explained.

We strolled through the park aimlessly, coffee in hand, talking along the way. We had been here before,
and with a silent understanding, we stopped at the skating rink. This was where we had held hands last
winter when she learned to skate for the first time. I remembered how she had fallen into my arms
deliberately and kissed me.

We leaned with our arms against the railing, sipping our coffee as we watched the skaters.

"I'm actually getting a kick out of this. I'm not artistic, I can't cook, I can't DJ, and I'm really bad with
computers, but I manage to find people who can do it." Her eyes sparkled with passion, and there was
so much life in them I was mesmerized. "And they all report back to me. It's kind of a talent, don't you
think? I'm not just a brainless cheerleader after all."

"You were never just a brainless cheerleader. Organizing people and arranging events are harder than it
looks, but you make it seem so effortless."

"Oh, I do what I can." She tossed her hair in my face and laughed over her shoulders. "You know I'll do
anything for you, my dear Sean."

It was in the middle of autumn when the snow had not started to fall, the air was just getting chilly but
the sunlight fell on her hair and reflected off her eyes. She had the most radiant smile that made me
forget all the bad memories, the cheating, the fights and the breaking up. At that moment everything
was perfect.

I put my arms around her slender frame from behind, hugging her loosely and breathing in the flowery
scent of her long dark hair. "Flora, thank you. Thank you."
She turned around, smiling up from my embrace. She didn't pull away. "You have already thanked me a
million times for the party. If I can collect a dollar each time you thank me, we'd have money to serve
caviar."

"It's not just for the party. It's for...you being you, and that you are here with me right now."

She smiled and laid her head back on my chest. "Well, in that case...thank you too."

She let me hold her for a long time. I rested my chin on top of her head and closed my eyes.

There were a few incredible moments in my life that I'd remind myself to remember every little detail
of. This was definitely one of them.

=================

Chapter 35 The angel

Flora

Saturday afternoon I took Linda shopping as planned, with the prospect of finding the best little silver
dress for her. I had made her stop at my house first, where I did her makeup. I painted her eyelids with
shimmers and added some rhinestones around her eyes. Linda was a bit skeptical of course, but
freshman girls were easy to fool.

"We are celebrating your birthday, aren't we? It's the perfect time to glam up." I had also brought the
Swarovski tiara my parents had given me when I celebrated my fifteenth birthday and hid it in my bag. I
would put it on her after we arrived at the party.

Once at the department store, I found several pretty little chiffon dresses, but those were very girlish.
Linda would want to look grown-up, I decided. It would be her statement. That she wasn't a little girl
anymore and she was ready for new experiences.

I settled finally on a sultry dress with a generous sampling of silver sequins. The dazzling sparkle made it
look party-ready, and I urged Linda to try it on. I was afraid silver sequins had the potential to make a
person look like a has-been diva on Sunset Boulevard, or like a magician in a Broadway musical, but
Linda was young, innocent and sweet, and she wore it like a dream.

"Lindy, you look fabulous," I said, pretending to wipe away a tear. "This must be how your dad will feel
like when he gives you away at your wedding."

She giggled. "I like it, but I'm a bit self-conscious."

"No birthday girl is supposed to feel self-conscious," I advised as I paid for the dress. "You should feel as
fabulous as you

look. Now let's find the right pair of shoes."

I convinced her to keep shopping in her party outfits, and then we found an outdoor café to have tea
and snacks. We both put on oversized shades and I suggested we pretend we were celebrities.

As soon as someone came our direction, I started my act.

"Oh no, you recognized us. We really just want a quiet afternoon to ourselves. How about I just sign
your t-shirt?"

It worked like a charm. People were so easy to maneuver. We managed to give out some autographs
and even got our photos taken a few times. I signed my name Nina and when one girl asked me if I was
Nina Dobrev, I didn't bother correcting her.

"That's such a riot!!" Linda said in between breathless laughter as we headed back, her face flushed and
her eyes darting in excitement. "Shopping with you is the ultimate dream, Flora."

She was so easy to please I wondered why we went to so much trouble to plan a surprise party. "I had a
lot of fun too," I said. I liked the look on her face. I liked that I was capable of making someone happy,
and in return I felt immensely rewarded.

"This is so much better than cooking a birthday meal with you-know-who," Linda said. "I had the best
birthday of my life!"

"Lindy, I'm glad to hear that." Just you wait.

Once in my car I texted Sean and told him the eagle would land in twenty minutes. When we arrived at
the house there was no sign of anything going on and for a second I almost thought the whole thing was
cancelled. But when we threw open the door, the lights came on and music started blazing, and
numerous

smiling faces swarmed before me as people yelled out happy birthday.

The room looked like an arctic dream, with magical lights and shapes of snowflakes dotted over the
ceiling. My head swirled a little, like I was on a merry-go-around ride, and all I saw was glamour and
sparkle.

Linda turned to me and her tears fell instantly. I felt a little like crying myself, like I had just given birth to
a small baby and it's the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was completely worth it, every minute,
every cent. This moment would be frozen in time, tucked away safely in my memory bank.

"D-Did you plan this?" She covered her mouth with her hand. "I can't believe it!"

"It's totally Sean's idea, but everybody helped," I said. I took out the tiara and planted it on her head.
"Now you have the best birthday of your life."

***

As some of Linda's middle school friends came over to talk to her, I quietly slipped out the front door. I
wasn't in costumes yet. Actually I had been wearing it underneath my clothes and I went to my car to
change. I had on a white corset and a skimpy white tutu that didn't really cover anything, completed
with garter belts and long beads of pearls around my neck. I also took out a set of fluffy wings from the
car trunk and put them on, and then I went back in to find Sean.

Seeing me, he looked bewildered and perhaps a bit taken aback. I noted with satisfaction that he had
bothered to dress in accordance with the theme, with a light gray blazer and he even went as far as
putting on a cute blue bowtie.
"Glad to see you have put some effort

in dressing up," I said, strolling over to talk to him.

"Not as much as you did, obviously," he said, glancing away. He clearly had no idea where he should
look to appear polite, and my gaze was more daring than ever. I was basically just wearing lingerie.

"Me? I didn't really go to much trouble. I dress like this for bed every night," I said innocently. "But of
course it's a bit hard sleeping on my back with the wings."

He laughed. "Anyway, everything went according to plan. You are a pro. I know I can count on you."

"You can always count on me to have a good time." I gave him a sultry look, edging closer.

He pretended he didn't hear me. "What are you supposed to be anyway? I thought you said fairies in
winter wonderland. I imagine fairies don't have that kind of wardrobe."

"This is like a more modern, Victoria's Secret angel style fairy," I explained. "Do you like it?"

Of course he liked it. He just didn't know how to admit it. "I have trouble talking to you when you are
wearing something like that," he said. "Or not wearing, I should say."

I chuckled suggestively. "Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"You make me...think evil thoughts," he admitted. "I think the fairies would be angry."

Is he flirting with me?

"I want to collect my first wish," I said abruptly as a spur-of-a-moment idea hit me. "Let's go make out in
your bedroom."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"I don't throw around my wishes, Sean."

"I can't leave the party, Flora. I have to supervise it," he protested weakly. "In case things get out of
control."

The

only thing getting out of control was his hormones, obviously.

"Fine. Then let's just make out in the living room." I crossed my arms defiantly.

He searched my eyes and knew that I meant business.

"You know you owe me," I pushed.

He hesitated for a few more seconds as if I was asking him to donate his liver. Finally he said, with the
tone of a martyr, "Fine, let's go."

Jeez, was kissing me that awful? Sean wasn't exactly jumping at the chance like I expected, the way a
golden retriever was expected to jump at a meaty bone, but then again he was probably just playing it
cool. As we passed Sandra I called out brightly, "Sandy, would you watch the party and make sure no
one does anything stupid? Sean and I have some business to attend to."

"Sure." Sandra nodded, catching my eyes and smiling her evil fairytale stepmother smile. "No one will
dare attempt anything under my watch."

***

Once inside his room, Sean looked at me and sighed. "Flora, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" I asked innocently, taking off my wings.

"You know what. Coming on to me all of a sudden. I have a feeling something malicious is going on."

"I just want some fun."

"I thought you had your fun with me."

"The fun is not over until I say it is," I said menacingly. "And you have to hold up your end of the bargain
without asking me so many questions."

He sighed again reluctantly. I challenged him with my unfaltering gaze until he came over and stopped
before me. My heart started pounding wildly despite my resolve to conduct this in a business-like
matter.

"Close

your eyes, Flora," he ordered me in a demanding way as if he was the one who suggested this.

I did as I was told. I could feel him moving closer, but he was in no hurry, deliberately making me wait
until I was almost jittery, then I felt his lips on mine.

He tasted exactly as I remembered. He was soft and warm and gentle, applying just the right amount of
pressure. The clean scent of him teased me. He took his time, kissing me languidly, neither rushing nor
stalling. My lips parted on their own, and gradually it had started to feel like before.

I missed everything about it. I missed this so much I almost felt a sob rising as I thought about just how
pathetic I was, how much I wanted him and how desperate I was to force this on him, hoping it would
cajole him a little more into liking me, and how hard I had always tried to win him and how rejected I felt
that I could never have him the way I wanted.

This feeling soon passed, and it was nudged aside by something more powerful. He moved his hand to
the small of my back and rested there, and his other hand ran through my hair as he tugged at it softly.
He pulled me in very close, and my arms went around his neck naturally.

I let the kiss go on, fighting against waves of nostalgia. The memory of our first kiss overlapped with this
one, and I reminisced about how I had lain on top of him and the way our bodies pressed together. I had
a sudden urge to push him down on his bed again, and I would rip off his bowtie and tear open his dress
shirt and run my hands over---

I pushed him away abruptly, knowing I was on the verge

of doing something really stupid.

"Glad to know your techniques have not gotten rusty," I croaked, trying to act like this was all just simple
fun for me. My throat felt dry. "That was a wish well-spent."

He looked at me dazed, lips parted slightly, waiting to be kissed again. "Thank you. That was enjoyable
for me too," he said after some time, not understanding what trick I was pulling.

"That's one wish done and one more to go. I let you off pretty easy, don't you think?"

Confusion swarmed in his cloudy blue eyes. "Flora....why?"

Jeez now he wanted to talk. I needed to get away from him fast. "We better get back to the party."

"I want to talk to you," he said, not giving up.

"I'll let you know what else you need to do." With that I briskly picked up my wings and left him. I wasn't
entirely sure if I had won this round.

***

There was so much excitement going on I really didn't have much time to admire how amazing every
little detail was. After I escaped from Sean's sex appeal narrowly, I went back to the living room to
inspect everything. I was picking up a cupcake when Sandra came over.

"So, great party," she said, and as she eyed my angel's getup, she added, "Great outfit too. I bet he was
pretty impressed."

"I think things are finally heating up, Sandy. Thank you so much for all your help," I said. I quickly filled
her in on the latest development.

"Do you really expect him to fall in love with you after one kiss?" Sandra said scornfully, staying true to
her character. "Sean is not a Disney princess."

"Don't you worry, Sandy. I know what I'm doing,

and I'm so going to win this bet," I said, partly to remind myself.

"Yes, I know, but I kind of wish you could win. I'm mad about the way he treated you. It's really horrible
of him to suddenly break up with you over nothing. Sorry, agreed to break up with you." Sandra was
kind enough to emphasize that I brought up the breaking up. "Anyway, I think he deserves it. Sean is a
good friend but a real lousy boyfriend."

"He's not that terrible," I protested. "When we were still together he was really sweet to me."

"Well, last impression counts. The way he ended it was not forgivable." Sandra studied my face. "Honey,
you're not falling for him again, are you? You can drop out of this bet anytime you want and I won't hold
you to it."

"Sandy, are you nuts?"

"A secondhand outfit isn't worth all the heartache," she advised. "I can't help thinking that this is a shitty
idea. I have a bad feeling that he'll break your heart again."
"No, if anyone's getting hurt this time, it's him."

"I think Sean has a real powerful effect on you. Let's just admit he's an admirable opponent and leave it
at that. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy kissing him just now."

I did enjoy kissing him, but that was nothing to be so alarmed over. "I can have a little fun combining
business with pleasure, right? Don't worry, Sandy. This is still strictly professional. After the first bout of
Seanitis, now I have immunity to him."

"I hope so. I think it's a bit scary the way you're attracted to him. I much rather enjoy watching you treat
guys like chewed bubblegum."

"And that's exactly how much he means to me," I lied. Strangely I felt sad talking about him like that. "So
tell me what to do next?"

"Next you will have to act really, really distant. Snub him for two whole weeks. You can hang out with a
group, but you don't say anything suggestive to him. You have to be friendly yet indifferent," Sandra
clarified. "In fact, when in doubt, just think: what would Sandra do?"

I laughed. Sandra wouldn't have gotten herself in this mess in the first place. No one ever broke up with
Sandra.

We looked at the large black-and-white photos hung on one side of the living room wall, and I had to
admit Daniel knew what he was doing. Linda did look like a celebrity. I guess Dan would have a much
more promising career as a photographer rather than a painter who drew naked girls. I walked from one
end of the wall to the other, smiling appreciatively, then I saw several of Sandra's photos taking up an
outrageous amount of space.

"Isn't it a little early to advertise for prom queen?" I eyed her. Daniel had managed to make her look like
Grace Kelly.

"Hey, he's the artist, he decides what looks good up there," Sandra said arrogantly. "There's one of you
too."

I followed her gaze and saw a small picture, about one-tenth of the size of Sandra's portrait, also in black
and white. It was of me and Sean in the cafeteria, sitting together. I was caught throwing my head back
and laughing, mouth opening ridiculously wide and showing too many teeth. Sean looked as handsome
as he always did, and he was looking at me with unmasked affection. A tolerant smile tugged at his lips
that seemed to say, "I don't know what to do with you, but please stay just the way you are."

I felt myself lost and speechless.

If that's not love, then I don't know what is.

=================

Chapter 36 The confession

Sean
At eight o'clock, I thanked everyone for coming to the party, but I didn't really manage to say anything
yet when Flora grabbed the microphone from me. She was very excited and laughed beside me as she
thanked a bunch of people for their contributions, completely stealing the show, then a massive cake
was brought out and Linda made her wish.

I wanted to get Flora aside and ask her what the kiss meant, but she didn't give me a second of her
attention. She had started going around the room and chatting up all her guests, because no one was
allowed to be bored at her party.

Up until tonight we had been getting closer and flirting a lot. We talked almost every night before sleep
and ate lunch together all the time, telling each other it was purely for Linda's benefits, even though this
party honestly didn't require that many meetings. We probably held more meetings than the
pharmaceutical company her parents worked for, but I never dared assume anything with Flora. It was
better to be clueless than to over-analyze things, so I always dismissed Flora's feelings toward me as her
having a little harmless fun with me. Perhaps she just liked making me uncomfortable.

I was fighting like hell trying not to feel anything, to wave it off as carelessly as she did, but I knew I was
failing miserably. I was reluctant to kiss her even though I wanted to, because I knew exactly what I
would feel afterwards.

I would feel hope. One sliver of false hope was all it needed for me to fall completely. I was cautious like
the tightrope walker in a circus, afraid of losing control

because there would be no safety net to protect me.

When the power cut at ten, I felt someone coming up behind me and tapping me on the shoulder. I
thought it was Flora messing with me again, but when the lights came back on I saw it was Linda.

"Hey, it's you."

"Yeah. I want to thank you," she said.

"You are welcome. You should probably thank Flora though, because she did everything."

Linda nodded and said she already did.

"Happy birthday, sis. Is this party awesome?"

"It is! Definitely awesomer than posting Ray's picture on a porn site." She laughed.

"See? I told you. The best revenge is moving on and having a good time."

"Yes. Look, listen carefully because I'm never going to say this again for the rest of my life." She fidgeted
and took a big breath. "You are a great brother and I love you."

"I disagree, sis." I grinned. "I think you are going to say it again for many, many times in the future."

She giggled. "I probably will. Hey, you wanna know what my birthday wish is?"

"Find another boyfriend and get married before Christmas?"

"Haha. I wish you and Flora would get back together," she said. "Everyone at this party can see how
sparks fly between you."

I pretended to scoff at the idea and told her she should have spent her precious birthday wish on
herself, but as I watched Flora through the crowd, looking glowingly beautiful as she always did, I knew I
wished for that too.

***

Our party ended with Jake telling me "It didn't totally suck" which was all that was needed to be said.
When people started to leave,

Flora was the last to go as she made sure everything was being put back to order.

I could still taste her on my lips, but she was back to her professional event planner mode and she barely
looked at me again. I walked her to her car. By then she had put on a trench coat over her angel
costume, but I knew what was under there and it still made me very aroused.

"Well, good night, Sean," she said. "I hope you had fun tonight."

"I did. Thanks again. You know what? Before you came over, it was a little stressful trying to think up
things to say to people when we decorated the house, so mostly we talked about how wonderful you
are. I wish you were with me. You make it seem so easy to get along with everyone."

She smiled under the street lamp, leaning against her car. "It's okay. What you lack in conversational
skills you make up for with...other skills."

I thought of what happened in my room and my heart started pounding. "I think you wasted one wish
tonight."

"No, I don't think so," she replied calmly.

I couldn't see what she was thinking at all. She confused me, and I debated if I should tell her what I felt.
"I...I wanted to kiss you even without the wish."

Flora raised her eyebrows coolly. "I guess you really like my costume." She smiled slyly, reaching out a
hand to raise the hem of her coat. She showed me the garter belts around her long tanned thighs and I
swallowed.

Just admit it, Sean.

"I like it, but the truth is, I like you."

I said it, finally. I was so afraid to acknowledge it, and I knew once I did it there would be no turning

back. She would have total control over me and she could do whatever she wanted to with my feelings.

"Flora, I really like you. You know, that kind of like."

I felt myself burn up with anxiety. These were the words she said to me before, but this time it was me
confessing before her, hoping she would tell me she felt the same. I had no alcohol in me to boost my
confidence, and standing in front of her I felt nervous and vulnerable.
Flora let out a throaty peal of light laughter. "Who doesn't?"

She opened her car door and got in as I stood beside her car, shocked. That was not the reaction I
anticipated. Flora was upfront but she was never mean.

Until now, that is.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked nonchalantly, rolling down the car window.

She was sending me mixed signals and I couldn't read any of them. "I don't know," I mumbled. "I like you
but I'm also afraid of you."

She laughed again. "Afraid of what?"

That you will hurt me, I thought. But I didn't want to say it because I knew she would do just that if I did.

The girl in front of me looked like her usual self, gorgeous and confident, but I gazed into her eyes and
saw nothing that I recognized. This couldn't be the same girl who wrapped her arms around my neck not
long ago, kissing me like she meant it. I was so sure there was a connection.

"Flora, I don't understand. Did I imagine everything?"

"What did you imagine?" There was a cruel glint in her eyes that I had never seen before, but I could tell
it fed on my pain and embarrassment. I had a feeling that she would laugh at whatever I said, but I
wanted to be truthful.

"I thought...the past few weeks meant something to you too. I had a really good time being together
with you, and I thought that you might...you might feel the same way."

Flora looked at me stoically, and I could tell she was not going to give me a good night's sleep. I bit my
lip and waited. Her silence was not the good kind, and with each passing second I could feel myself
heating up more with mortification.

I had to say something to let her off the hook. "Even if you don't feel the same way, it's okay. I'm not
asking anything. I just want you to know how I feel."

I was such a phony. I really just wanted to grab her shoulders and ask her what I did wrong, but I felt I
had to be nice because I was supposed to be a gentleman.

Flora smiled and chose not to answer me directly. "Good night, Sean. Get some sleep." I watched her
speed off into the night, realizing with a sinking feeling that Flora had given this party a Cinderella feel
after all. The party ended at midnight, and it was not the only thing that ended.

=================

Chapter 37 The termination

Flora

I snubbed Sean since the party just like I was supposed to, and frankly I wasn't sure if I was hurting him
or myself. He had looked a little hurt when I drove away that night, but it was dark and I was confused
so I wasn't entirely sure.
When he said he liked me I thought I would feel like giving myself a triumphant pat on the back for
finally getting what I wanted, but I didn't. I felt flattered, a bit sad, and strangely I even felt a flicker of
indignant anger.

I was exactly the same person a year ago. All I ever wanted to do was make him happy and win his
approval. I loved him and worshiped him, but he had called me spoiled and selfish and said he was
disappointed in me. Now he liked me again and he seemed to think everything was okay again, that I
should kneel and kiss his feet just because the king had shown a little interest my way.

I could tell he didn't know what he wanted, so really what was the point of telling me? After I threw him
the best party of the century and the best kiss he could possibly have since we broke up, he still couldn't
make up his mind. He handed over this little confession on a silver plate as if it was some kind of
present, but there was nothing that followed.

No "I realized what a jerk I had been before and I should have appreciated you more."

No "I finally know what a mistake I made and I want you back."

Not even "Can I take you out for a coffee date tomorrow and we can start over?"

Just "I like you but I don't know and I'm not asking anything."

Perhaps his royal highness thought I could take it

from there and persuade him some more. I just hated myself for forever trying to win him over, and I
hated his uncertainty and his hesitancy, although this hatred was intricate, woven with a strong desire
and I really despised myself. He could never be sure of us the way I was with him. I could not feel his
determination.

I wanted to answer badly as I ignored his calls, and when I went to school I had to refrain myself from
talking to him. He looked friendly but also indifferent as if he got a private lesson from Sandra himself,
as if he didn't care either way and if I did I should pick up where he left off and fling myself at him.

I decided to keep ignoring him. By the end of the first week it had finally become clear that Sean felt a
little agitated.

He caught me at my locker one day after school.

"Hi, Flora," he said casually, although I knew there was nothing casual about this greeting.

"Hi." I lifted my eyes from my books and glanced at him coolly.

"Are you doing anything afterwards?"

"No, I'm just going to drive home." I slammed my locker door shut.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

Boys are so pathetic. He was willing to savor what few minutes he could have but he couldn't bring
himself to ask me out on a proper date.
We walked to my car in silence, and I realized how easy it must have been for him to date me back then.
He never had to worry about a thing. I was pushy and aggressive and I initiated all the early encounters,
openly gushing about how much I liked him. I started talking right away and kept him entertained,
making jokes

and trying to awe him with my wits while he just smiled at me coolly and threw in an occasional
comment about how interesting I was. I spent hours attempting to look good for him and when I
showed up the only thing he had to say about it was how I was late again. It struck me finally of how
unfair it was.

When I still didn't say anything, Sean opened his mouth. "Flora, are you mad at me for some reason?"

"What gives you that idea?"

"Well, you're awfully quiet," he observed. He was so used to girls flipping over backwards to impress
him he didn't even bother to start up a conversation himself. In the king's little world he never had to
try, and now he was confused because for the first time in his life he had been blown off.

"I don't have any interesting information to share right now, that's all." I shrugged. "But if you want to
talk to me, you are welcome."

"Okay, but I have a feeling that you've been deliberately ignoring me for the past week, and I want to
make sure we're okay," he said carefully, glancing at me.

"Sean, if you think just because I'm not complimenting on your hotness every other second means I'm
mad at you, then you're really too conceited for your own good." That was so exhilarating!

He gaped at me in shock. "That's not what I meant. It's just a week ago it seemed like we were talking to
each other a lot and spending time together, and suddenly I don't ever see you anymore. You don't pick
up your phone and you run the other way when I approach you. Is it because of what I said at the party?
Because if you-"

"We were talking a lot because

we were planning Linda's party and working on our history paper. We're already pretty much set for our
presentation, and now the party's over and that paper's turned in, I don't really have any reason to
desperately hunt you down for conversations."

"I see." This time the hurt was unmistakable in his eyes. I realized I had the ability to inflict pain on him
and frankly it felt kind of lousy because the only way I could have done it was by playing hard-to-get,
Sandra's way. When I was being my unpretentious self, Sean just took me for granted.

He tried again. "How about what happened at the party?"

"Which part?" I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. "Never mind," he said gloomily.

"Well, here's my car," I said in a breezy tone, laying a hand on the door handle. "Thanks for walking me."
He reached for my hand. "Flora, this isn't like you," he said, looking me in the eye and scorching me.
"You used to be very straight-forward and you don't play games."

I fought the shiver that ran through me and shook his hand off. "Me? I'm not playing games, Sean. Don't
read so much into everything." I laughed lightly. I got in the car seat and shut the door.

I knew I definitely won this round. If he wanted me he should work harder for me, I thought self-
righteously.

However, as I drove, I couldn't shake the crushed expression on his face, and at that instant I knew I
could never win with him. I thought of the past few weeks when we joked together and I missed the
sound of his laugh, and I realized

I was much happier when he was happy. I wanted to drive back immediately, throw my arms around
him and tell him I'm sorry and I didn't mean anything I just said.

Hurting him hadn't been fun although he hurt me so badly last year. Why was revenge not all it's
cracked out to be and why was life so unfair? I would forever have the lower hand in our relationship
because I just cared that much more about him.

**

I had decided not to mess with Sean anymore and I declared an early termination of operation
heartbreak. I couldn't think of a good way to end it. Even if he told me he wanted to get back together
and I turned him down and laughed at him, I doubted it would make me happy and I had trouble
picturing myself going through with it. Since hurting him was no fun, if I continued the bet I would only
hurt myself.

I was the biggest idiot in the universe. I just had to waste my time and energy on doing things that hurt
myself and other people, and no one benefited from this stupid bet. Wait, maybe except Sandra. She
was nice enough about it, although she couldn't resist my Paige jeans as well as a much-expected "I told
you so", saying she knew all along I would fall for him again. I didn't really think I had fallen for him
completely, yet, but I wanted to quit while I was ahead. While I still had some dignity.

Sean was too tempting. When I closed my eyes all I could picture was his eyes, his smile, his touch, and
his kiss. I thought back to the night when he said I like you and how I hadn't felt victorious. I had wanted
to scream, Why? Why now? What's wrong with me a year ago? Are you going to stick around this time?

I should have known right then. I was too weak and he had such potent effect on me, I would eventually
crash and burn. I always took him too seriously. I would just take Carmen's advice this time and let time
do its magic as I slowly and painfully tried getting over him, in a less dramatic way.

Ironically, just when I thought this stupid mess with Sean would fade out, he surprised me. If my life was
a movie, this was the part where I would be dabbing my eyes, having given up all hope and realizing
there would be no happy ending. I would be getting on a plane, the screen would fade to dark, and
suddenly hopeful music would start in the back ground, and Sean would be chasing down the airplane
riding a motorcycle.

Technically speaking he didn't do anything theatrical like that, but it was enough.
=================

Chapter 38 The flowers and poems

Sean

Flora not talking to me somehow felt worse than breaking up with her a year ago. Back then it was like
brutally ripping a bandage off. At least I knew it was over and for a legitimate reason. This time the dull
pain was persistent and expanding, like being punched in the stomach repeatedly.

I joined Janet for lunch since Flora obviously didn't sit with me in our little corner anymore. No, scratch
that. She wouldn't even look at me. I was on my way to AP chemistry with Nicholas this morning when
we bumped into her. Nicholas was a friend of mine who Flora used to term as "one of my smart friends"
in a derogatory tone as if being smart was a terminal illness, and she claimed that she had less interest
in him than a fake tan. However, this morning she had acted like he was the most fascinating person
since Steve Jobs and ignored me completely. I was suddenly so low on her list of people to talk to it was
perplexing to the point of intolerable.

"J, hypothetically, if I had been flirting with a girl a lot, and after we kissed and I told her I liked her, she
laughed and started avoiding me...that means I should back off right?" As soon as I laid it out plain like
that, I realized I had already answered my own question.

Janet turned to me with eyes like saucers. "What? Sean Foster, you're a horrible friend! You don't tell
me anything!"

"J, that's not the point. I'm really suffering here."

She glared at me. "I'm not helping you with anything unless you tell me who you're referring to. I'm
beginning to think you only talk to me when you need someone to play

live at your party."

If I wasn't so miserable, I really wouldn't have said anything. "It's not that. The reason I didn't tell you is
because...it's Flora."

"Flora?" Her eyebrows shot up. "That's original. When are you two going to start getting over each
other?" She was silent for a while as she pondered this idea. "Wait. Now a lot of things are starting to
make sense. No wonder it's eternal sunshine on Floraland these past few weeks."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't say anything, but she's chirpy and excited all the time like she's in a relationship. I thought
it's because she likes planning the party, but now I see it's because she's planning it with you." Janet's
eyes danced with interest. "Steamy! Are you going to get back together?"

"No, didn't you hear what I said? She's been avoiding me ever since the party. I think she's playing some
kind of game, and once I made my confession it's over."

"I don't think so. Tell me the situation one more time, in details."
I told Janet everything I could think of with her interrupting every two sentences with excited
encouragements.

"I have a pretty good idea about what this is about. But first off, let me just tell you that Flora doesn't
talk to me about you, so I have to learn all this by being extremely perceptive," Janet said smugly in an
excruciatingly slow tempo, building the suspense. "She thinks I'm on your side, but I'm actually on hers. I
think you are real horrible to her."

"What?" I drew a sharp breath. "What have I ever done to her?"

"You were so hard on Flora, but you were willing to take

all the emotionally abusive shit Leslie dumped on you. You broke up with Flora after she threw one
irrational tantrum, but you let Leslie manipulate you until she finally had to leave. It's just very unfair. I
mean, Flora doesn't know how twisted your relationship with Leslie was, but at least she could see how
protective you were with her when you brought her to the beach."

I gaped at her. "Jesus, Janet."

"Flora must have felt very hurt when you were dating Leslie, and you're only coming back to her because
your evil ex left," she went on. "It's like you are choosing her by default."

I didn't really care that no one knew the real reason behind our breakup, because I didn't want Flora's
friends to think of her differently. Janet, in particular, thought of infidelity the way a neat freak thought
of dirty dishes clogging up the sink. I had accepted being wronged and being blamed, but somehow
being accused of not liking Flora enough was unbearable.

"Janet, is that what you think? That I was nicer to Leslie and I liked her more?"

She shrugged. "Isn't that obvious?"

I shook my head, not believing this. "I like Flora better than anyone else." I liked Flora even when I was
still dating Leslie, but this part I didn't admit out loud. Flora was always my favorite mistake.

"Then you have a really weird way of showing it," she commented.

"I met Leslie at a time when I was depressed, and she helped me. I felt like I owe it to her to try, and I
didn't want to disappoint someone who cared about me that much," I explained. "That's why I didn't
give up. And later it got better."

In the

end, I was becoming comfortable in that relationship, and for a while I honestly thought I loved her. But
once she left, we went from hanging out daily to not even a single e-mail because Leslie believed in a
clean break, and I was fine. It didn't affect me the way Flora affected me. All Flora did was stop smiling
at me, and already I felt a constant grey cloud hanging overhead, the kind only she was capable of
producing.

"As to being protective of Leslie that day on the beach," I went on, "it's because I knew she was
uncomfortable around our friends. I never need to worry about Flora like that. You know how she is. You
can ship Flora off to anywhere in the world, even a primitive tribe, and ten minutes later she would be
elected tribal chief already."

Janet laughed. "That is true."

"And besides, I was paying attention to Leslie because I didn't want to gawk at Flora in her white bikini."

She smirked. "So you did notice."

"Of course I did. I was just very discreet about it."

Janet nodded and smiled again, happy with my confession. "That cleared up a lot of things," she said.

"I'm only telling you this because you're my best friend and I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"Okay...if you die a tragic death suddenly, I'll make sure to spread the words that Flora is your one true
love." Janet was grinning uncontrollably. I didn't get what she was so happy about.

"I'm serious, J. I thought it was not bad with Leslie, but with Flora it's just...so good. And now she's
making me quit cold turkey."

"Awww." She made a sympathetic noise, finding amusement in my misery. "If you

like her so much why break up with her?"

"There are things you don't know about us. Let's just say that...I never really felt Flora took me seriously,
and at the time it felt like the right decision. But now I'm not so sure anymore. Why are you smiling like
that?"

Janet leaned back and took her time sucking on her orange juice. When she put it down, she looked at
me all wise and profound, like she just took a peek in the crystal ball and saw my future. "I'm smiling
because you're in luck. I can predict that in two weeks' time, you'll be back with Flora."

"Right. I'd consider myself lucky if she just stops avoiding me."

"Trust me, she took you seriously. I really shouldn't tell you this, but Flora was devastated when you
broke up. She was so crazy about you back then, and I just realized that she still is."

"Janet, you don't need to say these things to make me feel better."

"Sean, I know Flora says she loves throwing this party, but let's face it, she's a lazy person and she has
better things to do than visiting your neighbors and asking freshmen for help," Janet reasoned, and she
was making so much sense I wondered why I couldn't see it before. "If she was to throw one for herself
she would just rent a presidential suite and throw money in the air. And she did all these just so she
could make out with you in an angels costume?" Janet shook her head. "She told us you're the best
kisser ever but surely you can't be that good."

I thought of Flora sitting in front of the laptop carefully going over the guest list. Picking up luscious
branches with me in the park.
Calling me at midnight to make sure we could cut off the electricity in my house. Telling me that she
admired me and wished the best for me. Begging people to stay sober. Getting my parents jazz tickets.
Kissing me the way she did, wrapping her arms around me like she didn't want to let me go.

Janet set down her carton of orange juice triumphantly. "You're so clueless I don't know how you can
survive in the dating jungle without me. I think I'm going to start charging for relationship consultation."

Could I really be that lucky? Could the girl I cared about above everything actually cared about me too,
just in her own way? It was nothing short of a miracle.

"But why would she act like this now? She's not the kind of person who deliberately tries to test me."

"Flora is just a regular girl. She wants to feel special too. When have you ever made an effort?" Janet
asked. "I mean, Flora chose you, and Leslie chose you. So did everyone else before that. You just
accepted whoever that fell in your lap."

"Hey, you make me sound like I have no standards."

"Okay, fine, you may filter out the ones you don't like, but still it doesn't change the fact that you always
pick the easy path," Janet continued. "You're too lazy to work for it. You just respond."

Was I really that lukewarm toward relationships?

But Flora was different. Not being with Flora had hurt like I never imagined.

"If she wants reassurance, I can give her that," I said.

"You should, Sean. Show her that you're serious about her, even though you've never chased a girl in
your whole life," she

teased.

Dylan appeared at this moment, and he whacked Janet over the head. She turned to glare at him. The
three of us had been in school together since first grade, and that was how Dylan always greeted her.

"Did you get in a fight with Flora?" he asked me, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"You must have done something to piss her off." Jake joined us a second later. "Because last time I
checked she was clinging on to you like a sloth in a rain forest, but now she's...there." He nodded to
Flora's table across the room.

"Something like that," I said. "But I'm going to fix it."

"Just give her flowers," Dylan said, always eager to offer his unappreciated opinion. "I give Syd flowers
whenever I do something wrong."

"Sydney must be opening up a florist shop any day," Janet remarked dryly.

"Flowers cost money," Jake objected. "Write her a poem. For some reason girls really like it. I can even
let you borrow one of mine." He unwrapped his burger and started reciting. "Roses are red, violets are
blue, forget about poetry, let's just screw."

"Do you really manage to get laid with that?" Janet asked skeptically.
Jake grinned. "I'm beginning to think anything that comes out of my mouth works."

"Hey, I got one too," Dylan piped up. "Roses are red, violets are blue, I've got herpes, you should check
too."

They snickered like hyenas and high-fived each other. They really were each other's biggest supporters.

Janet rolled her eyes at me across the table. "You can do better than that."

I was never a flowers and candies type of guy, and I had few romantic tricks up my sleeve. But if this was
what Flora wanted I would willingly work for it, even if she wanted me to suffer a little in the process.

=================

Chapter 39 The pink bubble

Flora

"Would you stop staring at Sean like you're a police on a stakeout act?" Sandra snapped and I tore my
gaze from his table with brutal force. "I thought we've already decided that it's over and done with."

"I still can't see why you can't give him a chance," Carmen said. "You're obviously very much into him,
and he told you he likes you too. I don't know why you insist on torturing him."

Sandra scowled at Carmen as if she just said something stupid like crochet sweaters are appealing. "He's
a cruel guy who'll hurt her again."

Carmen shrugged. "I think any guy sweet enough to spend 500 dollars on his kid sister's surprise party
deserves a second chance."

"He didn't spend 500 dollars," I corrected. "I saved him loads by begging people to help out, and I told
him the cake costs 90 dollars when it's in fact nine hundred." Sean had no idea how much a customized
cake with a Linda figurine dressed up in snowflakes would cost, and I kindly informed him that I lost the
receipt.

Sandra shook her blond head in disgust. "Your love sickness is making me lose my appetite."

Ha. Like she had any appetite to begin with. Being around Sandra always made me feel anorexic.

"Hey, I just thought of a new revenge plan," Sandra said. "You should go out with Dylan or Jake. That will
drive him mad."

Carmen and I both glared at her.

"Relax, I was kidding," Sandra said. "Just wanted to take your mind off him. Besides, I'm sure they have
some kind of brocode."

"I'm so over getting revenge," I said irritably. "I just want to get over Sean

in peace. I've already survived not talking to him for a week, and Sean is looking less hot by the minute. I
think--"
Carmen kicked me under the table, and I looked up to see the devil himself casually appearing beside us,
looking so hot he could have just stepped out from a pool of lava. He pulled out a chair and joined us
with the same ease that my dad pulled his car into his designated parking space every morning.

"We weren't talking about you or anything," I blurted defensively, and immediately wished I had let
Sandra do the talking.

He raised his eyebrows in irritating amusement. "Of course."

He said his greetings and comfortably ate all my fries off my lunch tray. I was nervous and agitated with
him sitting beside me, but we all acted as amicable as a group of old people playing bridge.

Sean seemed...different. Like he wasn't afraid of me being mad at him anymore. He certainly wasn't at
all confused or hurt like our last encounter as he casually said, "Are you done with lunch? I want to go to
history class together."

I was, in fact, very much done but I didn't want to make it easy for him. "I don't need you to walk me like
you're my guide dog or something."

He smiled, completely not offended. "Oh, I know you don't need me. But I need you."

I scoffed. "You need me? For what? Fashion advice?"

I snuck a peek at Sean, who had the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. I could glimpse a little bit
of his skin beneath his collar and I flicked back my eyes hastily. The only fashion advice I could ever give
Sean was probably to wear nothing.

"I

need you to walk with me because history is my favorite time of day."

"I thought AP chemistry is your favorite subject this semester," I said. "You get to compare notes with
Nicholas and exchange smart people talk."

"I didn't say history is my favorite subject," he corrected, "I just said it's my favorite time of day."

I felt myself blushing inside uselessly. I ignored him all the way to the classroom, and once we reached
there I hurried over to my seat.

I couldn't concentrate at all in class, although to be fair I never could, with or without Sean to distract
me. I knew he was sitting three rows behind me and slightly to the right, and my Marc Jacobs cashmere
sweater burned into my skin. Halfway through the class I felt my phone vibrate and saw Sean had texted
me.

My doctor says I'm lacking Vitamin U

I bit back a snicker despite myself. What the heck was with this new cheesy version of Sean? Not that I
wasn't amused by it.

How dare you steal my pickup line, I texted back.

I turned around to roll my eyes at him, and he gave me the most breathtaking smile. I diverted my gaze
back to the textbook and cursed him mentally. He shouldn't be allowed to be that attractive. It was
going to be very hard to keep blowing him off if he continued this.

I wasn't going to lie. I enjoyed the attention and part of me hoped he would keep up his cute little
maneuvers to win my heart, although the sensible part of me wished he would just leave me alone.
Unfortunately, for the rest of the week he appeared at my table every day

so that we could walk to class together.

***

On Tuesday, I got another surprise from Sean. When I opened my locker, what should I find but a
photocopied periodic table from his chemistry textbook.

Underneath Sean had carefully printed in that goody-goody handwriting of his:

Barium Beryllium Yttrium Oxygen Uranium Rhenium Copper Tellurium

And this one I didn't steal from you: If I could rearrange the periodic table, I would put Uranium and
Iodine together.

Uranium and Iodine is U and I, this I knew. I bit the inside of my cheek to refrain from breaking into a
goofy smile, because smiling at a chemistry pickup line in the crowded hallway was not good for my
image. I didn't know if Sean was being more considerate or condescending for printing out the periodic
table for my reference, but I had to admit without it I wouldn't know what he was getting at.

I picked up my pen and translated his encrypted message:

BaBe YOU'Re CuTe

Oh dear I must be seriously programmed wrong. Sean was such a dork and this had got to be the lamest
attempt ever, yet I was completely turned on.

I sat through another uncomfortable, jittery period of history, and after class was over, he sat down at
the seat in front of me and turned around to face me.

"Can I borrow your arm?"

"What? We're going to be late for our next class," I pointed out.

"This will only take a sec," he said as he reached over to grab my forearm lightly. "And besides, your next
class is only two doors down."

"But you're going to be late for yours."

He smiled. "I run very fast." He

picked up a pen from my table and started scribbling along the inside of my arm, and he placed his other
hand over my wrist. This simple tickling gesture made me tingle all over. I glimpsed at what he was
writing and it appeared to be a website.

"Sean, what is it?" I sighed, not understanding what trick he was pulling.
"You don't have to use it if you don't want to, but I designed a blog for you." He stopped writing and
looked up at me. "It's a style blog."

"A style blog?" I wanted to giggle because it sounded so out-of-place coming out of his mouth.

"Yes, so you can put your talent to good use. You can blog about what you wear everyday and give
people fashion tips."

"Why would I want to do that?" I asked, although it actually seemed like a good idea. It was something I
would do purely out of the goodness of my heart, because bad fashion sense was contagious and should
be illegal. I always thought of myself as fashion inspiration of Riverside High anyway.

"Well, you did say you want to be a fashion editor. If this becomes a hit, which I'm pretty sure it will, you
might get some offers such as invitations to events and chances to collaborate with certain clothing
lines...something like that. I don't know how the fashion industry works, but I'm guessing it won't hurt to
have a blog."

I stared down at my arm to avoid his gaze momentarily. This amazingly cute guy with warm hands and
computer skills actually paid attention to my dream and was doing something to help.

"And if anything," Sean continued with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "I hope this will at

least burn out some of your excess energy so you'd have less time to meet new guys."

I pulled out my arm from his grasp and pretended to be annoyed. "Show off," I scolded, getting up to
leave. "You just want to prove that you can build a web page better than Randy Muller from the
computer club."

"I don't know if it's better," he said with a sunny grin, "but I made this with love."

***

On Wednesday, Sean stopped by my table during lunch and dropped a jumbo pack of Hershey's Kisses
on my lunch tray. My girlfriends looked at him in surprise, but I suspected I saw Janet smirking.

"That's a lot of kisses," Carmen said.

"That's a lot of calories," Sandra corrected.

"You know, most guys don't give me Safeway products," I complained, picking up the huge plastic bag
and weighed it in my hand. "They usually buy a box of Godiva pralines and tie a silk ribbon around it."

"That's not the way I roll," Sean said. By then it had become quite clear to the both of us that I was just
resisting him for fun. It had become a game of him trying and me turning him down, although I could tell
he knew that I wasn't really turning him down. I was defenseless when it came to the king.

He sauntered back to his table, and as soon as he left Sandra turned to me with alarm like I did
something wrong.

"What was that about?"

I shrugged, suppressing the bubbling feeling rising up inside me like a Moët & Chandon Champagne.
What happened was Sean basically declared himself in front of all my friends.

"He's been doing a lot of cute things lately," I admitted as

Carmen reached over to tear open the bag.

Sandra eyed the bag. "That's considered cute? You'd probably find it cute if Sean gave you a toilet
plunger."

"Sandy, he's trying," Janet said. "Give him a break. Besides, Hershey's Kisses are delicious."

We shared a few pieces of chocolates but there were just too many. As the Goodwill Ambassador of
Riverside High, I stood up to hand out chocolates to everyone sitting near us as I slowly made my way
over to where Sean was sitting.

I made a big show of giving chocolate kisses to Jake, Dylan and Alan, then I stopped in front of him and
put the bag behind me.

"Sorry, Sean, no kisses for you."

He shrugged and smiled. "That's okay, Flora. I don't want anything less than the real deal anyway."

My brain froze up for a second and I couldn't think of a good comeback line. He just declared himself in
front of his friends! They were all snickering excitedly like they saw my underwear or something, by the
way.

"You can dream, Sean," I finally found my voice and said weakly.

"But I already did." He stood up to join me as I blushed furiously underneath my MAC sheer powder.
This guy could flirt just as well as I could when he wanted to!

We walked together to class in silence, but the atmosphere between us had changed. I still ignored him,
but I was no longer feeling and acting hostile, and Sean seemed contented just walking next to me
without saying anything. When we reached the classroom he smiled at me just like he always did, and
his smile as always gave me breathing problems. I skipped off to my

seat, basked in this pink happiness called being chased by The King.

***

On Thursday he flew a paper airplane onto my desk. This might not have been a big deal coming from
someone else, but Sean was a total goody-goody. He was a compulsive note-taker, always afraid of
missing a sentence. I was surprised he didn't bring a recording device just so he didn't miss any of the
lecture, and to think he would stop in the middle of the class to fold a paper plane was quite
unbelievable, not to mention everyone saw he flew that at me.

On the wings of the plane he wrote,

Please pass on to Flora Morgan if I missed

I rolled my eyes. Sean and his precautions. I'd think aiming three desks ahead would be no trouble for a
varsity basketball player.

I unfolded the plane carefully, and tears rushed to my eyes without warning.

I want to be yours

Please. I miss you.

Back when we were together, he used to say he was mine and that I owned him instead of the other
way around, as if it would made him seem less possessive than he really was. As I stared at the note I
thought of how wonderful it'd be to hear Sean whisper his promises like before.

"I am yours. I won't be able to get a date for the next fifty years, don't you worry."

Although to be fair he did manage to get plenty of dates after me. I really should crumble up the note
and throw it back at his head, but it was too precious. I folded up the paper carefully and slipped it into
my Chloe wallet.

When class was over, he lifted his eyes from his desk and looked at me

expectantly.

"Are you in third grade, Sean?" I asked. "A paper plane?"

"Hey, I'm out of tricks," he replied. "And if I were in third grade, I would put little yes no boxes
underneath and ask you to respond ASAP."

I giggled despite myself. "Well, if you must know, the answer is no," I said deliberately, because making
him try was too fun.

"Is that like a definite no or a hesitant no?"

"Sean, you're a smart guy, you can figure that out." I tossed him my cutest flirty smile and left the
classroom. I was certain that he knew in this case, no really meant yes.

***

And then, nothing.

All through Friday Sean did nothing. No cute notes, no texts, no walking to class, and no snacks during
lunch. I checked my phone repeatedly like I had OCD just to make sure it worked, and when the last
class was over I found myself searching my locker for the fifth time to be certain I didn't miss his love
letter.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Sean really was the meanest, cruelest person ever. He deliberately
built up my expectations. He took me paragliding, and just when I was soaring through the sky in bliss,
he cut the lines so I would plummet to the ground and crash.

I couldn't believe disappointment could ferment like this and gnaw a hole in me.

"What have you been up to lately?" Sean said, appearing just when I lost all hope.
My heart jumped like it was electrocuted. I forgot if I should be mad at him or pleased that he showed
up or just marvel at his hotness. He leaned against the locker next to mine in his varsity jacket, looking

confident and sexy. He was the ultimate high school dream.

"You know, the usual," I said. "Staying at home, knitting and writing a symphony, that sort of thing."

"Interesting," he said in the same aloofness that I loved and hated simultaneously. "Look, I was
wondering if you can help me with a relationship problem since I know you are the expert."

He wants relationship advice from me? Fury built up in me instantly, like how the stove lit up with a
turning of the switch. I didn't exactly turn him down. How could he lose interest in me so quickly? Was
that why he avoided me all day, because he found a new target?

"Isn't that kind of soon?" I said in the least belligerent tone I could manage.

"Is it?" he replied calmly. "But Leslie moved away ages ago. I think I should be able to start something
new."

I bit my lower lip in anger. So now he wanted to pretend like there was nothing between us. I did sort of
imply that, but he should know I was only teasing him! Did I toy around with him for too long?

Damn it why did I have to say no when he told me he wanted to be mine?

"I can't help you," I said, mustering up all my resolve to appear expressionless.

He ignored me and started talking anyway. "I met someone I really like," he said. "I have never felt
anything like this before."

"Isn't that nice." May you rot in hell, Sean.

"But after we shared a very scandalous kiss with a pair of ridiculous wings at our feet, she ignored me
completely for two weeks," he said with a straight face. "To be exact it's thirteen days. Thirteen
agonizing

days. Do you think I should try harder or if I should stop because I'm beginning to feel like a crazy
stalker?"

Oh.

I looked at how serious he was and I burst into laughter.

"Or maybe she's too busy writing a symphony?" he pressed.

"Maybe you kissed lousy."

He pretended to consider for a second then shook his head. "No. That's impossible."

I laughed. I was seriously too weak. "Maybe you should try harder." I started to feel a little nervous. The
good kind.
He turned more solemn. "Okay, Flora. I'll try harder," he said, his eyes smoldering and burning into
mine. I just about crumbled to a pink pulp around The King's feet. He reached around and pulled open
the zipper of his backpack, then he took out an envelope. "I want to give this to you."

I opened the envelope and saw there was a framed photo inside. It was the one Daniel had taken for us
in the cafeteria. On seeing it I felt a strong surge of emotions, and I knew he must have realized too
what was captured on film.

I gazed at it in silence for a while. "I look hideous," I said, trying to act nonchalant. I pointed to my neck.
"It almost looks like I'm growing an Adam's apple."

"You're beautiful," Sean said sincerely. "You always are."

I felt a blush coming on. Figuratively speaking, of course. "And look at you." I showed him the picture.
"Come on, it's all in the photo. Admit you are into me."

"I already told you. I like you," he said. "You're all I think about."

He sounded like he really meant it. I diverted my gaze because he made me so hot and bothered. "Well,

it's despicable of you using Daniel's picture to try winning my heart," I said.

"I may not know how to take a good picture but I know a good one when I see it," he said. "And I have
something else."

He gave me a second envelope, a smaller one.

Snuggled inside were gift certificates of the most expensive spa center around and included a whole
body massage, facial and a pedicure. The kinds that I absolutely adored.

"How do you know this is my favorite spa center?"

"I asked Sandra first, but she was really nasty about it, like I was prying about the password to your bank
account," Sean said, smiling. "But Carmen seems really eager to help me."

Carmen ships us, I thought in amusement. I knew why he spent so much money though.

"Is this for paying me back for the jazz tickets I gave to your parents?" I said. "I already told you I don't
want your money for that."

"Can you not talk about money all the time?" he copied my line, frowning. "I want to do something nice
for you too. I know how much you like going to a spa."

It was actually really nice of him and I felt warm and fuzzy all over. "But this is cutting into your college
application fund," I said worriedly. "That's one more backup school you can't apply to."

He smiled. "I have enough saved up to apply to every school I want to. I wouldn't throw away my chance
of education just so you can have immaculate toenails. Don't worry."

"That's true." I nodded. "And you are Sean Foster. You have the SAT score of eight billion points and you
have aced every nerdy test there is to take. You don't need a backup

school. I'm totally going to be your roommate next year at MIT."

He threw back his head and laughed. At the sound of that I was awaken. Why was I wasting time here
anguishing over winning and losing and trying to make him prove he really wanted me? It was no use
defying The King. I just wanted to be with him and make him laugh. I wanted to talk to him at night
before bed and text him corny lines. I wanted to date him and kiss him, come what may, even if I would
always be the one who cared more.

As long as he looked at me the way he did now.

"Hey, I think I know what I want for my second wish," I said suddenly.

He looked a little alarmed.

"You have to go out with me tomorrow and you can't go home until I allow you to."

He smiled. "Am I a date or an escort service?"

"You are a date."

He contemplated. "This almost seems too easy. You help me throw a party, and I get a kiss and a date?
What's the catch?"

I shrugged.

"Come on, admit you like me a little too," he said almost shyly, nudging me with his elbow.

I giggled. Oh, who was I kidding? I liked him too much. "Fine. I like you. I like you a lot. I think it's pretty
obvious."

"Really?" He looked so delighted. His eyes sparkled, like a little boy who got his favorite present on the
day of Christmas morning. Presumably a mug with mitten. "But if you like me too why didn't you just say
so? You don't need to make me suffer for thirteen days."

"I was playing the tried-and-true trick of hard-to-get." I felt so stupid explaining it. "And it seems to work
too. It's supposed to make you

want me more."

"I'm not sure if it made me want you more, but it sure made me a lot more miserable," he said. "I almost
decided to leave you alone. If you had been straight with me we could've been dating two weeks
earlier."

"Maybe I shouldn't have laid out my plans of attack for the enemy to see," I said sheepishly.

"Flora, I'm not the enemy. I'm just a guy who has a major crush on you who has no idea how your rules
of games work."

"I admit it's kind of stupid looking back, but if I were you I would have tried and tried against all
obstacles and keep plotting my next attack until I win you over," I protested. "That's what you are
supposed to do if you are serious about someone."
He shook his head. "Maybe that's how it works in your world, because everyone eventually falls for you.
But I was taught to be polite and understanding. If you keep turning me down, I seriously can't tell if you
are testing me or you are just not that interested."

"But I had to work really hard to get you last year. I just thought you should have made some effort, and
you know, return the favor. I feel like I'm always the one to initiate things."

"By working hard you mean getting yourself drunk, luring me into an empty room to ask if I thought you
were a slut, and trying not to puke on me?"

"More or less," I admitted unwillingly. He made me sound really brainless. Looking back, it really didn't
seem like much of a plan.

"But after that I walked you home, called you the next day and asked you out, and offered to pick you
up while you went to your college bonfire, and if I remember

correctly we were making out exactly 24 hours after your so-called effort. I'm sure I didn't make you feel
like a crazy stalker," he elaborated.

I laughed. "Well if you put it like that..."

"And in my defense I hardly knew you back then. I think I was entitled a little time to consider the offer,"
he said. "But this time I'm your more-than-an-ex-boyfriend, who is also your history partner and party
co-host, who you have been talking to every night and feeding ice-cream to. I think you should have a
proper idea how to respond when I told you I like you."

"Humph. It's not fair. I shouldn't be picking a fight with someone who's so much smarter than I am." I
pouted.

"I know how to end a fight our way. And I'm initiating this one, so that's score one for me."

He put one hand next to my face on my locker, and the other lifted my chin. He lowered his head and
kissed me.

A locker kiss! You can't possibly get more public than a locker kiss and I knew how much Sean hated
attention, but now he was kissing me like there was no one else in the world. Out of the corner of my
eyes I could see some freshmen snapping photos of us, but I was too caught in the moment to care. My
head spun. This was too overdue, and it was every bit as good as I had hoped.

"Wow," I said, smiling goofily after he pulled back. "Wouldn't something as tacky as a locker kiss ruin
your reputation?"

"Why would kissing the most beautiful girl in school ruin my reputation?"

I chuckled, my arms circling his waist.

I wanted to tell him that I was really hurt that he broke up with me last year, but we were so good right
now I didn't want to ruin anything. I also wanted to tell him about the bet, but I needed to live in this
bliss for a while longer.

"Can I decide what we're going to do on our date?" he asked.

"No, you can't," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "I have some ideas already."

"Fine, but don't complain about doing all the work because you're obviously very bossy."

I laughed. "Fair enough."

"Can you please type up an instruction manual when you have time? You're unbelievably difficult to
work with." He smiled and patted my head.

I smiled back at him, a genuine one, without an ulterior motive behind and without nasty schemes to
back it up. I felt joyful and pure being back in this giant pink bubble of being Sean's fangirl. I was going to
plan the best date he'd ever been on.

I guess it was written in my destiny; I was doomed to serve the King and Queen of Riverside High, and I
was more than happy about this privilege to ever want to resign.

=================

Part 4 ◎ Chapter 40 The Whisper Dishes

Sean

To my surprise Flora's Mercedes showed up promptly outside my window at 10am on Saturday morning.
She was never on time. I threw on a navy coat as I ran downstairs, rushing out to meet her. I didn't want
Linda to intercept her.

"Hey," Flora greeted me with a wide smile. She was standing outside her car waiting, and as I walked out
the door she ran up to hug me before I could even take a good look at her. I wrapped my arms around
her waist tightly. For a while we just stood in the driveway silently holding on to each other, and
somehow it reminded me of the toppling of the Berlin Wall.

"I could barely sleep last night. I was so looking forward to this," she gushed, her cheeks a shade of light
rosy red from the cold. "I've been sitting at the Pavement for the past 40 minutes drumming the table."

"What? You could call me, you know. That never stopped you before."

"I don't want to irritate you today because I'm so happy." Flora was a ray of sunshine this morning. She
lowered her head slightly and permitted me a clear view of the beret she had on. I'd have recognized
that peculiar shade of cobalt blue anywhere. "It looks good, doesn't it?"

I nodded. This was the first time I actually got to see her wear it, because right after I gave her that gift
we broke up. I took in her long coffee-colored hair that fell over her shoulders, her leather coat with fur
at the edge and the lace-up boots on her feet with olive stockings.

"You look really great," I said. For a moment I could only stare at her. It felt so unreal. She was standing
in front of me

and it was not to talk business.

"I take my role as fashion inspiration of Riverside High very seriously," she said and grinned. "And I
blogged about it already. You look nice too. Good enough to go out with me without embarrassing me."
"Thanks." I was just wearing chinos with Converse and I was sure I couldn't possibly inspire anybody.

"Shall I go in to say hi to your parents and Linda?" Flora asked.

"Please don't." I nudged her lightly to push her back to her car, and she giggled. Every minute was too
precious to waste on my family.

"Come on, hop in. I have a full day planned."

I lowered myself into the passenger seat beside her. "Where are we going?"

"You have no patience." She tsked. "Somewhere we have never been before, but I don't know why. It's
such an obvious choice."

I had sat in her car a few times during the past weeks, but this time it felt different because we were on
an official date. I felt jittery and thrilled. She was the same person wearing the same jasmine perfume
but it felt more intimate, like she was more mine. Like I was allowed to fantasize about her again.

We hadn't said anything concrete about getting back together, but as soon as I saw her I knew that was
the direction I was heading for. I didn't know if taking me out meant she was considering taking me
back, but I'd accept anything I could get. I was willing to eat up anything she tossed under the table as if
I was her pet dog.

Being with her was too good to pass on, and I even missed the way she drove and how my body shot
forward at every red light.

"Tada," Flora sang.

watched in amazement as she pulled into the parking lot of the Science Museum. "Wow. I have actually
never been to one outside of field trips."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "I thought this would be where people like you hang out."

It was obvious this was planned in my honor and I was grateful for the thought. When we got out the car
she linked her arm through mine and dragged me toward the ticket booth. It felt great. She was soft and
scentsy and so pretty, like a jasmine flower with cobalt blue petals.

"I think this is where you belong," she said once we were standing under the exhibit hall.

I looked up at the huge skeletons of dinosaurs all around. "I hope I'm a little more interesting than a
Brontosaurus fossil."

"No, I mean there should be an exhibition under your name because you are so awesome. You should
donate your blood for scientific research," she said, staring at my face with practically heart-shaped
pupils. "Maybe they can crack the secret of your genes and replicate people like you."

"What?" I laughed in bewilderment. "Can you tone down a little?"

I had no idea what Flora was up to. Yesterday she was ice princess and today she was Miss Congeniality.
I was uncertain about where we stood, but Flora seemed really into me. I wasn't one to complain
though.

"Why do you want to be an engineer?" she asked as we walked through the Wind Lab, an energy
production demonstration that showed how turbines transform wind into green energy.

"I want to create things that move."

She made a face. "You want to have babies. I hate babies."

smiled at her intended misinterpretation. "No...like a robotic arm. A plane engine that roars to life."

"I wish you won't have to marry the female robot you build ten years from now," she said. "Oh wait. I
get it now. Like Iron Man! Or Batmobile. That can be kind of interesting." She nodded in
encouragement. Flora could make a comment about anything.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Is that why you like studying for physics?"

"Partly. I like getting correct answers. I like finishing a problem and see if I get it right. It's very clear cut."
So not what we are right now.

"I like ambiguity," she said. "Like fashion. No right or wrong. Just what makes you happy."

And Flora was definitely happy. She touched my face with affection. She clutched my arm while we rode
up the escalator. She made bad pun-intended jokes about how she couldn't wait for a little hands-on
experience with me as we treaded through the interactive section, with her nagging me about what
each device meant and oohing at my intelligence. I was suddenly Flora's favorite person again and she
had no problem with initiating things today.

"Flora, what triggered this sudden interest?" I was half flattered and half unsettled.

"You mean in science? Science is actually pretty fun!" She jabbed at a button which set off an avalanche
simulation and she squealed in delight. "That's so real! Did you see that? I'm impressed! Let's try the
tornados and the tsunamis." She pulled me towards the next interactive booth.

Was everything okay again? Dating her and seeing her happy was exactly what I wanted, but

a bad feeling stuck at the corner of my brain, like a chewed gum under the bus seat. Her mood swings
left me feeling emotionally whiplashed.

"You seem to...like me a lot today," I suggested uncertainly.

She looked at me and smiled, crinkling up the corner of her beautiful hazel eyes. "I like you all the time.
I'm just tired of hiding my feelings for you."
This was how she acted a year ago, repeatedly telling me how much she liked me, coming on to me full
throttle, right before she did what she did. No matter how much I tried to disregard it, I still felt a little
traumatized.

Flora's affection was like instant fame; it left me feeling swell-headed, intoxicated, dizzy but at the same
time unsettled. Instant fame could crash in a second, just like she could turn her back on me and destroy
everything I had dreamed about.

I really needed to make sure something like that wouldn't happen again, but she was so hyper today. It
seemed wrong to bring it up in the middle of her rare interest in scientific wonders. It would also be a
major fight-trigger, and I really didn't want to fight with her since we were sort of good again.

No, better than good. When she liked me it left me feeling ridiculously weak. I drank up her affection in
gulps until I drowned. Please stay this way for as long as you can, dear Flora.

I took her hand when we walked through the lightning and earthquake experiences, which roughly
described how it was like, feeling her fingers intertwined with mine. She squeezed my hand lightly
without looking at me, and my pulse escalated significantly.

I never thought I could

hold her hand again, and when she smiled at me I knew I was doomed. I was willing to forgive and forget
everything because I wanted her too much.

"What's this for?" Flora asked excitedly.

We had stopped at the Whisper Dishes, which was set up with two twin dishes of concave shape. One
collected the sound waves and reflected them towards the opposite sound dish. They were positioned
about 30 feet apart but supposedly the listener and speaker could hear each other clearly. Flora urged
me to the other side eagerly.

"Can you hear me?" Her voice came back muffled.

"Yes. But not very clear."

"This is like a dream. To date you again and kiss you wherever I want." Her voice swirled around me like
a galaxy of lights.

"Probably not wherever you want."

She laughed and it sounded like she was laughing under water, melodic and rhythmic. "Say something
nice to me," she said.

I drew a blank. I was never an expert on sweet talk, so I said the only thing that had circled my mind all
morning.

"I really want to get back together."

She didn't answer right away and my heart jumped erratically. "What? I can't hear you."

"I really want to get back together," I repeated, louder this time.
"You really want what?"

"To get back..." My face flamed when I noticed I was attracting attention, and I turned around to see
Flora smiling slyly at me across the room. She so heard me and she was just teasing me, I realized, as I
started toward her direction.

Flora got off from her platform and was walking briskly away from me. I quickened my pace and she did
too. We were chasing around like five-year-olds, crashing into each other when I finally caught up to her
in the empty stairway, and we were both laughing and gasping out of breath. Even five-year-olds were
better-behaved than we were.

I cornered her and trapped her with my arms so she couldn't escape again. "I know you heard me."

She giggled. "I forgot what you were saying. Say it again."

She looked up and she was so beautiful, I really wouldn't know what to do if she said no. I lowered my
head and murmured in her ear, pleading and wanting her so much it scared me. "Please be my girlfriend
again. Please."

She smiled, and for the first time ever she looked a little shy. "Yes." She kissed me. "Yes, yes, yes..."

Each yes was interrupted by a peck from her, landing softly along my chin and jawline. At the fourth one
I pulled her closer and kissed her properly. I didn't even care why we broke up anymore.

=================

Chapter 41 The Greenland huskies

Flora

I couldn't contain my excitement! I was officially back to being in a relationship and I wanted to climb to
the top of the Science Museum and tell the world. Or maybe I should just tell Facebook.

I couldn't wipe the boy-crazy look from my face. Correction: Sean-crazy. It just felt so amazing to act
without pretending, analyzing and plotting every single minute. When he held my hand I felt like I was
struck by a lightning bolt and the earth shattered (although to be fair, that was what we were looking at
when it happened, the lightning and earthquake simulation). I squeezed his hand just to make sure it
was real. Bliss drizzled down on me like rainfall.

We sat down at one of those small booths for two which allowed you to see a short documentary in
private. Sean pressed the screen and some fuzzy Greenland huskies came on. He fumbled at the control
button but no sound came out.

"I think the speaker broke down," he said.

Who cares? I pulled his face towards me and kissed him savagely.

He let me roam around his mouth for about five seconds before he broke away in embarrassment.
"Flora, I want to kiss you too, but this make-out corner you found really isn't as private as you think."

I traced his face with my knuckles. "I can't help it. You're so incredibly cute."
"I don't think it's healthy to expose these small children to so much tongue," he whispered as he glanced
around. "I'll look for the next dark corner to do it."

He put one arm around me and I leaned back on his chest as we watched the huskies run around the ice
field. Their

white fur quivered in the arctic wind, in silence. Happiness washed over me quietly, soothingly, like
waves against the sand.

This is one of the most compelling moments of my life, I decided. Just being with him, feeling him
breathe and listening to his heartbeats, while we watched animals together, not talking but totally
connecting. Sean drew circles on my shoulder absently and I rested comfortably in my designated
snuggle spot. I had worked so hard to get this position back.

I sighed dreamily when the short film had ended. "This is the most romantic date I have ever been on."

"The science museum? You're a dork, Flora. I can't let people see me with you," he joked.

"It's not because of the location. It's because I never thought I could have you back again."

He turned to face me and I knew he felt the same. He said it anyway.

***

I suggested we went to the gift shop and picked out a small souvenir for each other, but the museum
wasn't Saks Fifth Avenue and there really wasn't much to pick from. I settled on buying a postcard with a
gigantic blue brain printed on top with the caption big brain and hoped he would not laugh at me. On
the back I wrote him a short letter.

"Dear boyfriend,

I'm having so much fun and this is only the first stop! You are awesome and I like you so much, even
though you only have three pairs of shoes and I'm tired of all of them. You are the only person that can
make the Science Museum fun.

My heart rushes towards you the way electrons are attracted to the nucleus of an atom. I'm sorry I have

more mood swings than an octopus stimulated by a high definition TV screen. It's just that I'm a bit nuts
around you.

No matter what happens in the future, I hope you'll remember this day with a smile and know that once
upon a time you made a girl ridiculously happy."

Ok I definitely needed to work on my writing skills. Or I would ask Carmen to draft it.

I searched for him and saw him from across the shop, and I was just in time to see a girl blatantly
checking him out and giggling with her friend. I observed this with great interest as the girl approached
him. As a newly-established girlfriend I did the only thing acceptable: edge closer and eavesdrop on their
conversation.

Sean was looking at some stone collection and she pretended to do the same, then she made her move.
"Hello there," she greeted. She was very pretty!

He lifted his eyes at her briefly and replied with a terse hi.

Only Sean would get hit on at a museum shop! I was so full of pride. I admired the girl's courage because
he looked less than approachable, and he could be intimidating when he didn't smile.

"Did you enjoy the exhibit? I like the butterfly room the most."

"It's not bad." He smiled the kind of smile I had become familiar with, the kind that indicated he really
didn't feel like smiling but felt he had to in order to remain socially acceptable.

She tried coaxing more out of him and he ended the conversation without longing. He had started
looking at different colored minerals and stones, and the girl tried again. "Are you interested in rocks?"

"No," Sean said. "I'm picking

a gift for my girlfriend."

"Oh, okay."

I felt a bit sorry for her. I almost wanted to give her a pat on the shoulder and tell her it's definitely not
her problem. He could have been a little nicer although that was kind of his sop. I got plenty of those
from him in sophomore year too. He gave her another half-hearted smile as she left, and I joined him
after he got whatever it was he had been looking for.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just my boyfriend?" I said in an exaggerated tone. Boyfriend was quickly
replacing luxury to become my favorite word in English.

"You saw that?" The edge of his eyes crinkled up. This kind of smile was reserved for me. "I was very
well-behaved."

"You didn't find that girl pretty?"

"Yeah, she was actually very pretty. I'm going to find a way to get rid of you fast, then I'm rushing back
to ask for her number."

I laughed. "Well, did you enjoy the exhibit?"

"I like the documentary about Greenland huskies the most," he said, echoing my thoughts. "I'm very
interested in learning about them but it ends too soon. The butterfly room sucks because there aren't
any dark corners."

"Good answer." I smiled and slid my arm around his waist, steering him away. I loved how different he
was around me.

The King was meant to be admired and respected from afar. People generally liked him because he was
smart and good-looking, but I had been so privileged to know the inside scoop. How endearing he really
was. How sweet and funny he could be. He breezed through school with nonchalant detachment, and
although he was never mean or snotty like Sandra, he didn't make small talk with people unless he had
to.
He was not the kind of guy who offered to show the new kid around or made an effort to help someone
with a jammed locker.

Unlike my Prom King friend Raymond who traded popularity by being friendly, who said goofy lines out
loud in class and sought attention, who handed out his niceness like a merchandise, Sean hid his wits
and charm, and those of us who were lucky enough to see it just couldn't get enough of him.

I felt like a Starwood Platinum Preferred Guest; elite and exclusive.

Sean said he wanted coffee so we sat down at the museum café. My king was addicted to caffeine. He
read my postcard over the steam that rose from his mug and smiled in amusement.

"Wow, my very first love letter from you," he said with a happy beam, waving the card lightly in the air.
"Thanks. I didn't expect key words like electrons and octopus to pop up, but it's very nice."

"Hey, I was paying attention and learning. I didn't know octopuses can have mood swings before today."

"I didn't either." He handed me a small paper bag. "Don't laugh."

On the bag he had scribbled in sharpie, "To the mysterious girl who fell from the sky: you hit me harder
than a meteor." Inside was a small piece of fake black stone that tried to be passed off as a real meteor.

I laughed. "You are so cheesy."

I loved it. Meteors had also replaced diamonds and became my new favorite kind of rock.

=================

Chapter 42 The lake and the strawberries

Sean

Flora dug out her phone and said, "Can I tell everyone that we are back together?"

Why wasn't I surprised that this was happening again? Her phone knew more about her than I did. I
didn't mind her labelling me, unlike the way Jake freaked out over being "marked", but it was the way
Flora addressed issues like these that worried me.

"Yes, but do you have to do it now?" I said reluctantly. Getting back together meant different things to
us. I thought it was something precious. She treated it like gossip.

I wasn't normally like this, but Flora just had this power to make me question everything about myself.
Was I cool, interesting, special enough for her? Would I be able to hold her attention this time?

"I can't hold in something this big!" she exclaimed. "I'm too excited I'm going to burst like a blowfish."

"Flora, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Wait. Smile!" She held her phone up and before I even realized what happened, she had taken a photo
of us together while she planted a kiss on my cheek. She pulled away immediately and she was back into
the arms of her iPhone.

"Is that going public too?"

She nodded, typing away on her cellphone fast. A smile played at her lips.

"Can I at least check how I look? I need to make sure my hair looks fine." I just wanted to redirect her
attention back to me.

Flora smiled and showed me the photo. "You look how you always look. Perfect. You are so cute it's
outrageous."

I didn't look perfect. I looked startled and confused, which was pretty accurate. Even her 8MP

iSight camera was more perceptive than she was.

I waited while she posted on whatever social media she thought was necessary, or maybe all eight of
them. When she was finished she had completely forgotten my attempt of conversation. She checked
the time and gasped.

"It's past noon! We are totally behind schedule," she announced, jumping up and grabbing me. "Hurry
hurry. We have to get to the next stop."

I stifled a sigh. Her batteries would run out eventually, right? Even iPhones needed recharging. Maybe
when she calmed down, she would have enough patience to listen to me.

***

The next stop was a pristine lake. I had no idea why Flora knew of these places, but her knowledge of
recluse locations beat Lonely Planet. After she parked her car she suggested we walked around the
whole lake, which was supposed to be an easy hike.

I knew she planned this for my sake too. I liked hiking, and the view was glorious. It would have been
peaceful and amazing if her phone didn't ring every thirty seconds.

"Who gets so many phone calls on a Saturday?" I complained. "It's as if you run your own newsroom."

"Well, I am news itself," she explained. "And my 900 friends want to congratulate me on my new found
love."

I exhaled. "Your new found love is right here and he wants to talk to you too."

"Yes, but..." Her phone rang again. "This one I have to take. It's Sandy."

I let her talk as I followed behind her on the hiking trail. Could I confiscate her phone after being
together for less than one hour? She knew I was bossy and demanding. Maybe she would let me.

"...he's

going to be mad but...I don't care...he won't...I'm going to tell him..."

Snippets of her conversation drifted by me and I couldn't help but hear some very puzzling phrases.

"What did Sandy say about us?" I asked.

She bit her lips. "That I have the sick pleasure of letting you break my heart."

"What? Why did she say that?"

"It's...it's something I did," she said, averting my gaze. "But I don't want to tell you now."

"But you are making me feel very uneasy right now."

"I'll tell you later. Right now I just want to enjoy being with you. No heavy talk, okay?" She pleaded me
with her eyes.

She was finally going to tell me, I realized. She would tell me and I would tell her I forgive her as long as
she never did it again. I could feel this dense fog hanging between us; I liked her so much but there had
always been this haziness, like I was watching her through tinted glass. It would be so nice to break that
glass and talk openly.

After we completed the walk and got back to her car, she opened the trunk and took out a picnic basket.

"I made these myself," she presented proudly. "Sandwiches with truffle cream, a bottle of chilled tea,
it's TWG 1837 black, mind you, and strawberries. I hand-dipped those."

I saw that the strawberries were chocolate-covered and imagined Flora dipping each and every one of
them with her dainty fingers. A very pretty sight.

"Thanks, Flora. That's really nice."

"This isn't just chocolate," she clarified. "It's Valrhona."

Needless to say I had no idea what that meant but I supposed it was something

expensive, as well as everything else in her picnic basket.

"This is my attempt of making something for you," she said.

I nodded in appreciation. "I know. You put a lot of thoughts in arranging a date for us. Thank you."

"I imagine this is what you like. Is it?"

"It is. Of course it is." To be honest I'd rather have a plate of hot food, but as long as she made me feel
like she cared about me, I could put up with anything. Even her 900 friends. I let her feed me
strawberries and I thought nothing else mattered.

Flora had packed a large waterproof blanket, but she had to add another layer of cashmere on top.
Could this be anymore unreal? We lay on the grass near the lake and it was serene and wonderful. I
closed my eyes briefly and let the winter sunlight fall on my face.

Flora sat up suddenly.

"Let's do something crazy."

"How crazy? Like breaking into an empty construction site crazy, or get matching tattoos kind of crazy?"
I said dryly.

She mused. "Hmm. These are pretty good ideas. Wait....I got one. Do you have a dream car?"

"Maybe a Ferrari 458? Or any type of Lamborghini."

Flora nodded solemnly. "Let's go test drive one."

"Are you serious? They won't just let us test drive unless we look like serious buyers."

"We will pull up in my Mercedes and I'll flash my VISA black. Oh my god that's so exhilarating!" She sat
up straighter and I could practically see lights shooting off her eyes like laser beams.

"But we are teenagers and I'm wearing Converse."

Flora slumped down. "That's true. What a shame. The idea of you driving

a Lamborghini really turns me on." Her lips curled up slyly. "Where do you want that tattoo?"

I laughed.

"How about a shooting range?" She didn't give up. "Come on, there must be some crazy stuff you want
to do together."

I rolled over on the blanket and propped myself on my elbows. "There is, actually. There is something
I've always wanted to do with you but it's not crazy. In fact, lots of high school couples are doing it
everyday," I suggested as a joke.

She tilted her head and pretended not to get it. "No thanks, Sean. I don't want to study together."

I chuckled. "You know what? Can we not do anything crazy and just be together? I really just want to
hold you and talk to you. I don't need any outside stimulant." That was typical Flora. With her it was like
five exciting dates rolled into one. Unless I suggested robbing a bank, she would never like anything I
planned.

"Alright then," Flora agreed. I pulled her back down so she was lying in my arms. She played with my
fingers. I closed my eyes and breathed in her hair. She smelled so nice, like she just rolled around in a
bed of jasmine. I savored the weight of her on me.

"Okay. Tell me the worst thing you've ever done," Flora said.

My eyes flung open. "You're so full of drama."

She wiggled her body, and we were facing each other. "I'm curious what evil you could possibly have
done. You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't have a single thing to hide."

That wasn't the first time I heard something like that. My friends all thought that I didn't have secrets,
but that's because we had

different definitions. What I did on weekends, contents of my e-mails, and who I dated were not secrets.

Secrets were, for example, what I felt around Flora. It was a Pandora box of all the wrong feelings:
vulnerability, uncertainty, rapture, possessiveness, jealousy and a feeling of out-of-control.

"I bet it's something boring like you cheated on a few tests in middle school," Flora said.

"I actually never cheated on tests."

"Duh." Flora smacked her forehead. "That's true. Whose answer are you going to peek at? You might as
well trust yourself."
"I played a bit of online video games in seventh-grade," I told her the first thing that came to mind.
"There was a bully in my school, and I hacked into his account and stole all his weapons."

Flora was silent for two seconds and burst out laughing. "That's it? That's the worst thing you've ever
done? Big deal. You stole some virtual swords."

"I thought it was pretty mean. He must have spent tons of money and time on it."

"All I know is that you were a hacker and that's so cool. I'm adding another 5 points on you. Hacker Sean
is very sexy."

Flora always had a whole different take on things. "Okay. There's something I've never told anyone
before."

She nodded for me to go on.

"When I started middle school there was a kid on the school bus who got picked on a lot. There was a lot
of name calling and shoving, but I never said anything because I just wanted to stay out of trouble. I
thought I was an easy target myself. I was scrawny back then with braces, plus I was labeled as a brainy
kid

which is a bad thing in the middle school anarchy.

By the second year the bullying got worse, but I had started playing basketball and I grew a lot taller, so
from time to time I would tell the other kids to back off. They didn't. Even Dylan joined in, and he would
sometimes say nasty stuff to him. He may not be an angel now, but back in middle school he was a lot
worse."

"I know Dylan teases people a lot but I never take him for a bully."

"Yes, but if it's any excuse, his dad was dying of cancer then and he had a lot of frustrated anger.
Anyway, one day on the bus, I helped him. The whole school was watching, and after that I was viewed
as this kid's savior. He thought I was his only friend and whenever anyone picked on him he expected
me to stand up for him, and I always did."

"I'm waiting for the plot twist," Flora said. "So far you sound like a hero riding on a white horse."

"Don't worry, there's a twist. I hated the idea of bullying, but I can't say I really liked Martin--that's his
name--either. Just because I stood up for him doesn't mean I wanted to hang out with him. I was just
doing what I thought was right, but he was always hanging around my locker and complaining about
how miserable he was, and it got increasingly annoying. One of these days he showed up again and he
was whining about how someone tipped over his drink in the cafeteria, and I just lost it. I mean, I wasn't
his guardian angel. He should learn to fight his own fights once in a while."

"I agree completely. You can't defend him all the time," Flora supported. "Even Spiderman wants to take
a break sometimes."

"I

told him to shut up and I swore at him. That evening he slashed his wrists."
"What!" Flora gasped. She covered her mouth with one hand and her eyes widened, full of compassion.
"He didn't die right? Tell me he didn't die."

"He almost did, but then he pulled through. Nobody knew I had anything to do with it but I did. He tried
to kill himself because of me."

"Oh, Sean. You can't blame yourself for it. You did what you can."

"No I didn't. I betrayed him."

"Hey, that's not your fault." Flora reached over and held my hand. It was amazing how the mere touch
of her fingers made me feel lighter.

"I couldn't face him afterwards. I wanted to apologize but I was too scared. I have always been very bad
at expressing feelings and I tend to avoid confrontation at all costs. When I'm faced with a traumatic
event I usually just bottle up my feelings and never talk about it."

Flora's phone rang and she embarrassedly pressed mute. "Sorry. Please go on."

"After that Dylan dragged me with him to the hospital because he felt guilty, but actually he really didn't
do that much to him and he stopped long before it happened. We went with Dylan's mom, but because
Martin wouldn't let anyone visit him, she suggested that we wrote a card. Dylan sat in the waiting area
and I was so surprised he had that much to say. He filled up the whole card explaining how angry he had
felt when his dad passed away and how sorry he was.

He asked me to write a few words too because he thought Martin would like to hear from me. I wrote
get well soon and signed my name. Even in writing I was

a coward. He transferred later and I never saw him again and I never told him I was sorry."

"Wow. That was...really heavy." She took hold of my hand again, squeezing my fingers gently. "I didn't
know you and Dylan shared such a dark past."

"Yeah, we go back a long way."

"He's a pretty decent guy after all."

"Yes, nowadays he only picks on me and Jake. Mostly me," I said. "That's why my dad told you I was
bitter and cynical in middle school. I really hated middle school. Not even my parents know what
happened."

"Thanks for telling me, Sean. I feel very privileged. But you know, these supposedly bad things you've
done only make me like you more. You really are Church Sean."

"Come on. I almost killed someone."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being a drama king. You have a really good heart."

She wrapped her arms around me and I felt strangely comforted. I did not even know what propelled
me to tell her, because I knew Flora wasn't the best listener in the world, but as her warmth seeped into
me I knew. It was because Flora was the most important person to me and I wanted her to approve of
me badly, to tell me that it was okay, that she still thought of me as a good person.
Paradoxically, as much as Flora made me feel insecure, she also made me feel safe at the same time. She
gave me an adrenaline rush but also calmed my nerves. She could give me all the emotional support I
needed without saying anything.

"Sadly that incident didn't make me more compassionate," I continued. "Part of me was even upset by
the unfairness of it. I did more damage

to him than the people who bullied him for years, because it's worse to stop being nice for one second
than to be bad all the time. I really don't feel like going out of my way to help people anymore, and I
generally just mind my own business. I went from being disinterested to being withdrawn."

Flora looked at me like I was Dalai Lama. "No, you are just saying that. If you come across some sort of
injustice, I know you would still stand up."

"I don't know. Luckily high school is a much better place. Everyone more or less found where they
belonged and there's no one waiting to be rescued right now."

"Probably just me drowning in my admiration toward you."

I laughed and she hugged me tighter. It struck me that we had never been on a date during which we
just accompanied each other and talked. Flora loved a huge crowd so we were at a lot of parties or
hanging out with friends, either that or we would be in her room getting physical, with me roaming my
hands where they shouldn't go and hoping that she would let me do a little more than the last time. It
meant a lot that I could talk to her, and I felt myself sinking in Flora's charm like in a quicksand. I was the
one that needed rescuing.

"I kind of dig that you are...detached," she said, her face full of affection. "I mean, everyone dreams of
making friends with the whole school and be voted prom king, and you can totally do it but you are too
cool for that."

But you obviously dig the prom king too, Flora. "That's so not everyone's dream. The crown looks fake
and it crashes with my style," I mocked her tone and she giggled. "I have a very narrow comfort zone. I
only feel comfortable around probably five people and it doesn't even include my parents."

She smiled and stroked my face gingerly. "Do I make the cut?"

"I wouldn't use the word comfortable to describe what I feel around you," I admitted.

"Then what word would you choose?" Her eyes sparkled.

"I'd probably go with...overwhelmed."

She laughed. "I thought you were going to say horny, but I guess overwhelmed works too."

I joined in her laugh. "I have to be honest, I pretty much feel horny all the time with or without you."

She leaned in and kissed me. Only Flora could kiss me the way she did. It literally melted all my troubles
away, and I was so glad her phone didn't ring. We made out properly for a while until she pulled away,
and I knew the time had finally come to settle this one last thing.

"Flora, what's the worst thing you've ever done?"

=================

Chapter 43 The revelation

Flora

"Your turn," Sean said. "Flora, what's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Gee, where should I start? There were too many. "I cheated on some tests in middle school."

He rolled his eyes.

"Alright. The things I did were more along the lines of petty crimes," I started. "Let's see...I smoked pot
with Raymond one summer and we got so stoned we rushed out in the middle of the night and did a
bunch of silly stuff, like dancing around the lamp posts and peeing down from trees. That's him, by the
way.

I was out one night after Max dumped me, and I saw this guy painting on a wall with a spray can. I joined
in the fun and I wrote Max's name along with all the profanities I know and cursed him to no end.

I got busted once for the fake id I used to buy vodka. I tried to pay my way out of it which only got me
into bigger trouble. I almost got arrested." I paused, seeing the look of surprise on his face. "I had a lot
of teenage angst," I explained.

"Yeah, I thought people usually get over it by slamming their bedroom doors, but I guess there are other
ways too," he said, but he didn't look too bothered by my stories.

"And you remember my friends Sarah and Jess?"

"Yes, your friends from your private girls' school days." He nodded. "The other two of the Charlie's
angels." Sarah had a mass of blond curls and Jessica was Chinese.

"Yes. We got back from a beach party once and we were all so wasted, and when we passed a fountain
in the middle of the city, Sarah dared us to skinny dip. We took off our bikini tops and we swam right in
that fountain."

His eyes widened,

then he smiled and said, "Damn I wish I had been there."

I laughed. He didn't seem to mind how crazy I had been.

"Wow, you're only seventeen but you have enough materials to star in your own reality TV show," he
said. "Let's see...illicit drug use, public nuisance, vandalism, forgery, public drunkenness and nudity...I
think you're a hazard to society."

"I was...but I'm your responsibility now. Are you okay with it?"

He nodded. "You were pretty wild, but at least you were never deliberately mean," he said. "I guess your
little misdemeanors never hurt anyone."
This is my opening. I have to tell him now. In chick flicks the bet always comes out, and I wanted him to
hear it from me. In retrospect, I knew I started that bet just to convince myself it was okay to get close
to him, and deep down I never really planned on breaking his heart.

All I wanted was to have Sean like me again, because I never stopped loving him.

I knew he was going to be mad, though. This wasn't something I could wriggle out of by tugging on his
sleeve and pouting, but at least I got him stranded near a lake and he couldn't leave without my car.

"First you have to promise not to freak out, and you have to know I really do like you. I mean it."

He smiled easily. "Nothing you say can possibly freak me out."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Here goes. I was once really in love with a boy, and when he broke up with
me I was so hurt and angry, I cooked up an elaborate plan to make him fall for me again so I could dump
him and show him how it felt. But halfway through it I decided to

abort the plan because..."

My voice trailed off when I saw that Sean got it right away, and the light in his eyes scared me. It was of
shock and betrayal, piercing through me unforgivingly like icy shards. His jaw clenched and something
cold in him forced me to swallow the rest of my sentence.

He drew a shaky breath. "That's why I got a kiss and a date."

"No! Well maybe that's why you got a kiss but I really wanted to date you. I've already decided to forget
it--"

"Flora, when are you going to dump me and tweet about it?"

I felt tears starting to well up. I knew it. He would be so mad he wouldn't listen to me, and I sucked at
delivering bad news. "I'm not going to dump you! It was just a stupid plan. I didn't know what I was
doing."

"That actually makes a lot of sense. Now I see why you were acting so strange." He shook his head, like
he didn't hear a word I just said. "I can't believe I'm so stupid."

"Sean...the point is, it was only in the beginning. I genuinely want to be with you now." I reached out my
hand to touch him on the wrist but he drew back so fast like I electrocuted him.

I could tell he was lost in a dark place, pulling memories out and sorting through them one by one like a
case file. "Is that why we went out for sushi? And why you agreed to throw the party for me? And that
weird ice-cream date we went on...and the phone conversations....and that's why you played hard-to-
get...Jesus, Flora. You even came to my house to have dinner with my parents."

"Those weren't exactly lies...I meant everything I said to you and I really enjoyed throwing

the party for you." I closed my eyes briefly to let the tears roll down. They were blinding me. "I don't
have to tell you this, you know. I can just go on being your girlfriend and I'd be so happy."

"Then why did you tell me?"

"I told you because I don't want a lie between us."

"You don't want a lie between us. That's good to know," he smiled scornfully, but there was no trace of
humor in his voice.

"And...I was afraid you might accidentally find out from Sandy."

"Sandra is in on this too?" he said sharply.

"I made a bet with her that I could make you fall for me, but I already admitted defeat because I like you
too much!" I wiped my tears away with my sleeve. "I only did it because you crushed my world when
you left me. I just can't get over you and I thought maybe I could do it by getting revenge."

"You and Sandra really believe all that crap about getting revenge to move on," he said in disgust. "I
don't deserve this."

"I know...I'm so sorry..."

"You're crazier than I suspected. I know you're competitive, but to go through so much trouble just to
get even?" He looked so disappointed in me I couldn't breathe. Anger I could handle. But the look he
gave me made me want to curl up and die. He gritted his teeth. "You know what? This...this really
hurts."

He stood up and turned around, taking a few steps away from me.

I stood up too, hugging myself as I cried behind him. "Sean, can you give me a little credit by coming
forward? I know my initial incentive was wrong, but I backed out in time. It's just...you don't understand
how it feels to

want someone like this! Breaking up with you... it tore me apart. I've never felt like this about anyone
before and I don't know how to deal with it."

He didn't answer me.

"Come on. Forgive me. I did a stupid thing but I did it because I care about you too much." I came up
behind him to clutch his arm, and he held up a hand to stop me.

"Give me a minute to think."

"Okay," I whispered miserably behind him. Who ever said honesty is the best policy? I should have just
ended the conversation with the skinny dipping.

He was silent for a while, then he turned to face me. The expression on his face had softened a little. "I
know how it feels."

"Huh?"

"You thought I wasn't in pain after we broke up? I went through hell trying to get over you." His eyes
blazed. "I was just putting up a cool front because I didn't want you to know."

"Really?" I blinked.
He heaved a sigh. "To be honest, I knew you were up to something but still I can't resist you. I want to
get back together too much. So if this is about getting even, about winning," he said sadly, "then you
already won. I was never any match for you." The little-boy look in his eyes made my mother instinct
kick in at once. I couldn't remember ever wanting to hurt him.

"I didn't know that. I always thought you didn't care that much about me."

"You really are an idiot, Flora. I was--am--crazy about you."

I bit on my lips. It didn't make any sense. I was convinced that The King got tired of me just like he did
with all his previous conquests, and somehow us working together had rekindled his interest in me.

I never felt that he was crazy about me, especially when he cold-bloodedly executed our relationship
back in junior year, without a backward glance. "But...if you feel that way why did you break up with
me? You know I didn't want to."

He stared pointedly at me, and what came out of his mouth was as unexpected as a flying unicorn.
"Because you cheated on me."

I gasped. "What? I never did!" I would be less surprised if he told me he was a secret assassin and he
only did it to protect me. Of all the possible reasons this had never even entered my mind.

"Don't lie," he said, irritated. "Part of the reason I didn't say it before is because I know you'll just lie to
me again. I don't want to give you that option."

"I'm not lying. I never even considered cheating on you."

"Come on, I know. With Raymond Corbett," he muttered as if the words were painful to form.

I racked my brain and drew a blank. I had hung out with Raymond millions of times in the past but we
never even held hands. Cheating on Sean with Ray? Wasn't that like cheating on Bradley Cooper with
that short guy with full beard in The Hangover?

Well there was this one incident where I hadn't been honest with Sean. "He came to my apartment one
night and we got wasted together. I didn't tell you right away because I knew you wouldn't like it, but I
was planning on coming clean once...wait." A fog had shifted, and the memory was becoming clearer
now. "It was before your physics test because I was so mad at you...oh my God...is that what you were
referring to?"

He nodded.

I felt

dizzy like all the oxygen was sucked out of my brain. "But that's everything that happened. He brought
beer, we drank, we gossiped, then he left. When we got outside he tried to kiss me goodbye. It didn't
mean anything because I know he always gets a little touchy-feely when he gets drunk. He didn't even
remember it."

Sean looked at me in a speechless daze.

"It's true. You were studying. How did you even know?"
"Because I staked out at your house like a lunatic. That's how crazy you made me. I knew you lied on the
phone and the next day you lied again to my face," he said in a low voice. It was hard to tell what he was
thinking.

I felt a fresh wave of tears pushing to get out. It wasn't because I had been wrongly accused of cheating,
but what must've gone through his head at that horrible night. What it must've looked to him. When I
imagined Sean coming over to see me, waiting outside the building only to find me and Raymond
giggling on the stairs in our drunken bliss, I wanted to puke. He didn't deserve to find out this way.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that. I was feeling frustrated about us, and when he called and suggested
meeting up I thought it'd take my mind off you for a second. I never thought of cheating on you, but I'm
sorry I lied."

Sean appeared as if he believed me, on top of getting a stroke. He dug one hand into his hair and his
face contorted slightly. "I just assumed...that's what happened?"

I nodded. After all this time, I finally knew. I always thought he was cruel and heartless and my friends all
thought he was the bad guy. I never even

imagined that he could hurt too.

Sean's eyes were wide with panicked realization, like a shot deer. I thought he would be glad to know
the truth, but he looked like Luke Skywalker when he found out about his real father. Without the
screaming and crying, of course. "So you never cheated on me," he repeated, testing the sound of it on
his tongue.

"Never."

I could see him blanch. He inhaled and exhaled several times. "Then I'm a fucking idiot," he concluded
finally. "We broke up over nothing."

As his words hit me like a slap, I felt a new surge of emotion engulfing me like diving into a Jacuzzi of hot
chili sauce.

I shoved him hard on the chest. "That's why we broke up? That's why we broke up?" My voice was shrill
and foreign, and my head was filled with so much fury I could feel a headache pressing in. So many
teary, sleepless nights and so much sorrow for such a stupid reason.

How could he be so stupid?

He caught my fist when I tried to hit him again. I was pretty sure I didn't hit him that hard, but he winced
like he was in a lot of pain. "Flora, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry. I saw what I thought I saw and I
jumped to conclusions."

"You don't trust me at all! And you thought I was a cheater! I may not be a saint like you but I've never
cheated in my life!" Besides, what was the point of cheating when I could just switch boyfriends?

"It's not that I don't trust you but...why did you have to lie to me?"

"Why didn't you just ask me?" I shrieked. "I was going to tell you the truth but I never got the chance,
because you broke
up with me!"

Sean let out a frustrated grunt and lowered himself back to the grass. He tentatively tugged on my wrist
to pull me down with him.

"Flora, look, listen..." He struggled with his words. By then I was hyperventilating and in a mess of tears,
faintly feeling relieved that my Helena Rubinstein mascara was as water proof as advertised. Too much
information at once made my brain teeter on the brink of exploding.

Did he know how many times I cried for him? How I went through our broken relationship shred by
shred, trying to figure out what I did wrong? How I spent my days blaming myself and then him, and
then back at myself?

Did he know how I drifted through summer in an empty shell, watching him hover over Leslie like I was a
mistake? How I fret about his injury but wasn't allowed to stay with him, and could only worry over him
when no one was watching?

I wasn't that coherent, needless to say. I threw out my accusation between angry sobs, and Sean wanted
to comfort me but I didn't give him a chance. I cried my heart out for a good ten minutes, at least, while
he watched me helplessly, begging me to stop with the guilt on his face.

"I know now, Flora," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"You should be."

"I am. This is all my fault. I made a mess of everything." He tried putting his arms around me again and
this time I let him, too exhausted to push him away. I whimpered quietly, gradually calming down, and
he proceeded to apologize for about eight billion times until it sounded like a mantra.

"You're really stupid, Sean."

"I know." He

stroked my hair and rocked me very gently. "Forgive me. Please forgive me."

I sniffled, pulling back to look at his face.

"I didn't ask you because...because it hurt to talk about it," he started softly, but I could hear the anguish
in his voice, like he was forcing the words out. "I honestly thought I didn't mean much to you. If I had
told you, you would've known how much it affected me. I didn't want to give you the chance to hurt me
even more and...and I was scared to hear about the details." He lowered his eyes and stared down. "I
just wanted to walk away with some dignity."

This was the first time I ever saw any trace of vulnerability in him and I suddenly couldn't stay mad at
him anymore. The King wasn't always so mighty after all, and it was because of me. I made him this way.

A hot guy with a little bit of insecurity is just so...hot.

"And when I finally decided to approach you, you told me I bore you to tears and that you wasted three
months of your life on me," he recounted. "Then you threw the keychain away, which led me to believe
that you really didn't care about me."
"I was just angry because you dumped me!"

"And then you went out with Liam Turner right afterwards. It was like two weeks after we broke up. I
could barely got out of bed but you were already moving on."

"I was...I was honestly dating Liam to spite you," I muttered, feeling defeated and incredibly immature. I
was a bigger moron compared to Sean, obviously. My impulsiveness and competitiveness had ruined my
chances with the only guy I liked, and during the process I had apparently

put him through hell.

"I don't want to admit this, but I don't have that much confidence in front of you. You're wonderful and
out of my league," he started talking again, his voice low and hesitant. "I just got lucky for a while, and I
guess I always anticipated that you'd lose interest in me, so when I saw you that night I wasn't even
surprised. I was kind of just waiting for it to happen."

I sighed, bewildered and touched at the same time. "Why would you think that, Sean? I was the one
waiting for you to get tired of me."

"Well, you're very popular, you have a crazy schedule, a million friends, a long list of ex-boyfriends, and
you're always talking on the phone. It's like...you are my priority but I'm only one of your options."

How could I have sent out such a wrong impression? I ran my fingers through my hair in exasperation. "I
don't believe this. You are my top priority and I thought you're supposed to be smart!"

"I'm not smart around you. I can't think. You made me feel like you're a super rock star and I'm a crazy
groupie."

"But...but that's a ridiculous illusion! I worship you. You have so much going on and I feel shallow and
stupid next to you. I always try to impress you, but you're so effortlessly cool," I said. "I guess I'm even a
little intimidated."

"Intimidated?" He raised his eyebrows.

I fidgeted. "Yeah, because you're The King." It sounded so juvenile out loud. "That's what I call you in
private."

"The King?" He laughed in surprise. "Is that short for The King of Nerdy Tests or something?"

"No. Just The

King. That's what I think of you."

He looked embarrassed. Or maybe flattered. "Wow. I don't know what to say."

We were both silent for a brief moment, each absorbing the newly-gathered information.

"Why didn't you tell Janet the real reason we broke up?" I asked.

"I don't want her to judge you."

My eyes widened. "You'd rather she judge you?"

He shrugged. "Trust me, after we broke up, what people think of me is the last thing on my mind."

He was worried about my reputation when all I had been doing was cursing him to get fat and grow a zit.
There was no debate about it; Sean was just altogether a much better person than I was.

A thought hit me suddenly. "Wait. So...you were willing to get back together even though you thought I
cheated on you?"

He nodded. "Yeah... I always go against my better judgment because I can't stay away. When you like
me it's...it's the best feeling in the world." He looked at me shyly as he said it. "I don't want to ever go
through you ignoring me again."

I never imagined I'd hear that from him and at that moment I was thankful that we were sitting down.
My knees would have betrayed me.

"Sean. You have no idea how much I like you and I never stopped." I reached out my hand to caress his
face. "I think there's a lot of misunderstanding between us."

He gazed in my eyes and sighed. "Flora, I'm sorry for putting us both through this. Being with you has
this bizarre effect on me and...anyway, I'm really sorry. You can hit me again if you want. It was all my
fault."

It was not all his fault, and now that I calmed

down I realized that I probably made more mistakes than he did, only Sean had the grace to accept all
the blame. He was noble as always, exactly the guy I knew I fell in love with.

"No, I'm sorry. I lied to you and I tried plotting revenge against you. I think I was the one who made a
mess of everything."

Sean smiled, lips curling up at the edge attractively, like a sliver of sunshine breaking through the rain
clouds. "Well, if I'm the king then you committed treason, among all your petty crimes. I'm pretty sure
it'd get you sentenced with beheading back in medieval times," he said lightly, and I knew the storm had
passed and we were fine again.

"You wouldn't have the heart to behead me," I said. "You'd probably just sentence me to...serve time in
your chamber."

His face broke into a grin and a gleam came into his eyes. "I love it when you talk dirty."

I giggled. He pulled me toward him and I fell in. The warmth of him was so comforting and I let myself
indulge in it.

"I really miss you," I said, suddenly choking up again.

He hugged me tight. "I miss you too. All the time."

I nodded. I had trouble describing how I felt...it was a mixture of a handful of feelings all thrown into a
pot stew. Mostly it was relief. Made me want to laugh and weep at the same time. The tears came first
and they were all soaked up by his coat.
We separated finally although it never felt enough. I liked how tight Sean held me, like he was afraid of
losing me and he never wanted to let go.

Then the giggles attacked. I couldn't stop laughing and Sean joined in. We glanced at each other and
laughed uncontrollably, like inmates who dug through a tunnel to escape prison and finally saw the
sunlight.

"We really are a pair of idiots," I said.

"Yes, but you don't know how happy I am right now."

"I think I do." I sighed and lay my head against his shoulder in contentment. "I promise I'll never lie to
you again."

"Okay."

"But you have to be more open with your feelings. You may never lie but I feel like you are holding in a
lot." I stared into his eyes. "I want you to tell me everything, and if you're unhappy about anything I
want to know."

He considered for a while. "Well, there's just one small thing. This picnic you prepared is great, but I
can't survive on cold sandwiches and chilled tea alone." He hugged me again and his lips moved to my
ear. "I'm so hungry. Can we please go get some chili cheese fries?" he murmured in such a cute pleading
tone I giggled immediately.

"Of course. I would do anything you want, your majesty."

"Anything?" He cocked his eyebrows and smirked. "Then I asked for the wrong thing."

I laughed and hit him. He really was asking for it.

=================

Chapter 44 The double date

Sean

I was still in a daze when Flora pulled onto my street.

"You are dropping me off already?" The dismay was hard to miss in my tone. The sun hadn't even set yet
and I assumed we would at least have dinner together, and after our previous conversation I really
didn't want to spend one minute away from her. I felt like we had to make up for lost time.

"Yeah, I don't want to be late for my next steamy date," Flora deadpanned and I groaned.

"Please don't joke about dating other people."

She raised her eyebrows. "Now even joking is off-limits? You are even more possessive the second time
around." She smiled. "I still find it pretty sexy."

With a signature abrupt halt, she pulled her car to a stop in front of my house. "Actually, I'm not done
with you yet. I just need you to use your car. I have this planned yesterday to remind you of the good
times we had, in the hopes that you will like me more. It seems a little unnecessary now but we might as
well go through with it."

I gazed at her puzzled.

She winked and smiled slyly like she was an undercover secret agent. "There's an envelope in the glove
compartment. Take it."

"Okay..." I clicked it open and found a white envelope among the mass of speeding tickets and gum
wrappers.

"Right. Don't open it until I'm gone. And here's the emergency number." She dug out a marker pen from
her purse and scribbled a line of phone number on my forearm. "Don't dial unless it's an absolute
emergency."

I looked at her in alarm. "This isn't going to get me arrested, is it?"

"Well, if you run fast

enough..." she trailed off and laughed. "Kidding! Now get out."

She gave me a quick kiss and shoved me out of her car, then she sped away without further explanation.
I was left in the dust gaping after her. I would never be able to follow up on Flora's spontaneous actions,
I thought.

I tore open the envelope and found a note inside.

Where did we go the one time we cut class?

Was this some kind of treasure hunt? I was amused. Flora could manipulate me like a con-artist, but at
heart she had a certain child-like innocence.

The place we went was the little garden near the school. Flora had come into my German class that day
and faked a note from the principal, asking to see me right away. It was so obvious I just about died in
my seat, and everyone else knew too because we were the newest couple. But Mrs. Kinston had bought
it.

German was my weakest subject, and Flora thought she was doing me a favor. Instead of working
harder, her way to deal with it was to skip it altogether.

"You have no motivation," she said, leading me away from school. Her hand was clasped tight in mine.
"We need to find you a German mistress fast."

"You are so much work I can't even begin to think of a mistress, let alone a German-speaking one," I
said.

Flora took it as a compliment and grinned. She led me to a broken fence behind the library and told me
it was the only place to go without being noticed. I bet some other guy showed her that.

We had decided to take a walk in the botanic garden nearby, but neither of us was really concentrating
on flowers. We found
an isolated bench in the shades, hard to see if you didn't look carefully, and she lay on my lap as she
propped her feet on one arm of the bench. It was one of the warmer days and the air was filled with the
crisp scent of grass. The clouds up above were frozen still like they were painted on. My eyes skidded
over a few fallen acorns under the tree and went back to her face.

Flora was squinting up at the sun, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks like the ones of palm tree
leaves on the sand. Her face was basked in the golden glow, the very definition of beauty. Her hazel eyes
fell on me.

"Sing me a song," she said.

"I really can't sing," I protested immediately. "You will regret it."

She smiled. "Try me."

She insisted and I obliged. I very unwillingly sang her one of Janet's creation. It was about a bird skipping
around in the wet winter, looking for a warm branch to settle, until it finally found the one branch
blossoming with white camellias. It stopped flying, and at that moment I suddenly understood the lyrics.

Flora was the very reason that made me want to settle, although she was a camellia with a Chanel logo.
She didn't let me finish the song, though, as she held up two fingers and lay them gently against my lips.

"Okay, Sean. You proved your point."

"Hey, I'm really getting in the mood!"

She giggled. "You really can't sing and you are completely off tune. It's supposed to go like this." She
started singing, and I let her finish the chorus before interrupting.

"Flora, you really can't sing either." I bent down and shut her up by placing my

mouth on hers. Kissing we were good at and we stuck to it. Singing was out of our leagues. By the time
we were walking back to school, we were both laughing uncontrollably, giddy about the fact that we
could be bad at something together.

I started my car and drove toward that direction.

***

I found another note stuck to the very bench we had sat on.

We once shared the passion and power of true literature...

It was an easy one, because Flora seldom read anything besides Vogue unless she absolutely had to,
namely being forced in English.

The book was A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. Flora begged me to read it with her, and I guess it
was kind of romantic in an unconventional way. She wanted us to take turns reading it and tell each
other about it on the phone before bed.

I read the majority of it, and when it was her turn to dictate her chapter she always did it in such a
messy way with vague descriptions like "that lawyer dude" as well as a lot of her own comments, while I
took my job seriously. I even read some of the notable quotes to her, but she would always yawn and
accuse me of providing too many details.

"Hurry up and tell me if anyone died in this chapter," she would say, as if we were watching an episode
of Game of Thrones.

But in the end, when I was on the final chapter, Flora grew quiet. "That was an amazing story," she had
said softly when I finished. "Thank you."

"I didn't write it, Dickens did."

"Yes, but you showed it to me. You are the one who told me this story, with a tender and faltering

voice," she had begun quoting dramatically in a stage whisper. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than
I have ever done...oh Sean. I think it's a beautiful thing that we learned about this epic love story
together, don't you think?"

"Yeah. It sure beats all the soap operas you forced me to watch with you."

She had sighed wistfully. "I'm really happy we shared this. And now I must go to sleep. It is a far, far
better rest that I go to than I have ever known..."

***

The note stuck inside the copy in the local library said, the flavor we invented together.

There was a muffin shop on the side of a street near her house. It was more like a muffin stand than a
shop, to be exact, because it was really small with no seats. The owner was an elderly Irish woman who
was very gentle and always welcomed new muffin ideas.

We used to go there as a regular stop before a date, and one of those days Flora came up with a flavor.
Marshmallow with fudge with "real bits of apple instead of some crummy brand of applesauce".
Surprisingly, the shop owner liked the idea. She had offered to name the muffin after Flora, who refused
politely. After we left she had informed me in a snobby manner that she accepted no less than a bag or
at least some perfume to be named after her.

Now I pushed open the door and was instantly greeted with the familiar smell of freshly baked muffins.
The aroma of butter and sugar hugged me in a warm embrace. The same woman stood behind the
counter and smiled at me, a look of recognition springing into her eyes.

"You haven't been

here for quite a while," she observed. Since we broke up I really hadn't felt like going near Flora's part of
the city.

I asked for two of the muffins, and as she wrapped them she winked and said, "The next question is
worst double date ever."

I felt really apologetic she had to take part in this game and thanked her in embarrassment.

When I sat down in my car, I opened the brown paper bag carefully like unwrapping the blanket
covering a baby. I took a bite into our muffin, chewed, and missed Flora acutely.
***

"I think it's time we go on a double date," Flora had declared one day. This was just one of the many
examples that showed she couldn't be happy with just me, as if the idea of me alone was too dry for her
to swallow and she had to wash it down with some other stimulating factor.

I really had no interest for a double date but I gave in as always. "Who do you want to double date with?
Sandy?"

"Talk art to Daniel all night and pretend to be interested? No thanks."

"I don't really want to deal with Sandy's truckload of attitude problem on a date either." I actually liked
Sandra just fine, but it had become a private joke between Flora and me to complain about her
whenever we could. I knew deep down Flora loved her to pieces.

"Maybe we can date Janet and Brian," she suggested.

"No...Janet deserves some quality time with him alone. She hardly ever sees him."

"We will date your friends then. Jake is pretty fun. Ask him to bring whoever he is seeing at the
moment."

"Jake doesn't do girlfriends. He only does hookups, and

he wouldn't want to incorporate those into his life."

"That's true," Flora agreed. "He wouldn't want them to find out any more about him than the
underwear he wears." She chewed on her bottom lip then slapped her palm down on my thigh. "Dylan
and Sydney. It's perfect!"

Sydney went to cheerleading practices and she and Flora were sort of close, but I was skeptical. That
couple were too intense for my taste. "But Sydney is crazy."

"I thought you were fond of crazy."

"Your type of crazy," I corrected. "You're crazy fun but she's crazy scary."

She tsked. "You just don't give people a chance, Sean."

So I agreed. For the first part of the date we went to a dimly-lit restaurant, where we sat down at one of
the corner booths in a semi-circle.

I had known Dylan for a very long time and I had caught him at some of his more private moments, such
as him crying at his dad's funeral, or once when he was so livid he trashed everything in his room
because he thought he and Sydney were never getting back together again (yeah right). However,
watching him stick his tongue down her throat two feet away from me was something I could live
without. I guess some extent of PDA was tolerable in movie theaters or in the park, but when it was
piled on my dinner table along with roasted ribs it was just repulsive.

"This is what you want?" I raised my eyebrows at Flora, who didn't seem to mind one bit. "Dinner with
porn?"
She shrugged innocently. "Do you want to fight porn with porn?"

I hoped she didn't decide to be competitive at that moment. I was afraid Flora would want

to prove that we were the better couple or that we were more into each other, which judging from the
situation we were losing points rapidly.

I had wanted to cut the date short, but after the two disentangled from each other, they suggested
hanging out more at a coffee shop to play board games. We ordered hot chocolates and absently played
a game of Monopoly as we chatted. They were people I was familiar with and we were comfortable
around one another. The date was taking a good turn.

"When is the moment that you two decided to be together?" Flora interrogated with interest after we
had covered all the basic topics like school and movies.

Must be Friday the 13th, I bit back my remark.

"Come on, the moment I saw her, of course," Dylan said. "She's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Sydney smiled smugly before sipping quietly on her drink.

"Why didn't you have that kind of resolve?" Flora pouted at me, pretending to be insulted.

"I'm really shy," I said.

She chuckled and turned back to them. "So what's the first thing that caught your eye when you saw
her?"

Her boobs, I thought.

"Her eyes," Dylan said. "And as soon as I noticed she wasn't looking at my direction, I checked out her
boobs."

For some reason they decided that was a good opening line for another kiss that followed. At least this
time they kept it short and snappy.

"We were stranded in the rain once in a hut on the beach," Sydney said after she came up for air. "Dylan
had his guitar with him and he sang to me until the rain stopped. That's

when I decided."

Flora sighed in appreciation. "That's really dreamy. You are more romantic than you look, Dill."

"Wow, winning her over with your voice," I teased. "You must have picked up dating tips from The Little
Mermaid."

Dylan glanced at me. "I'm curious where you pick up yours. It's so nonexistent."

"Probably The Lion King," Flora answered for me. "Between us it's more like basic animal instinct."
Which really wasn't far from the truth.

"Yeah, physical attraction is a powerful thing." I smiled at Flora.

Sydney nodded, running a hand through her wavy black curls. Double dates were definitely designed for
girls. Dylan and I had no interest in learning about each other's love lives down to the last tiny detail, but
the girls were very excited. "Hey, what's the most romantic thing Sean has ever done?"

Flora was caught momentarily off guard by Sydney's question. "Um...he texts me sometimes?"

Sydney smiled, and on seeing that, Flora fished out her phone.

"Sean's texts are very interesting," she said. "He sends me these biology trivia facts and it's really cute.
For example..."

"Flora, you don't need to prove it to them," I interrupted.

Dylan leaned forward and placed his palms on the table. "I'm actually intrigued. Do share."

"Here's one. I miss the feel of you against my largest organ," Flora read. When she saw the blank look on
Sydney's face, she explained, "Skin, Sydney. It's the skin."

"Well, I know that's not my largest organ." Dylan smirked.

"It's really not as large as you might think." Sydney

glared at him in annoyance and he smiled proudly.

"And this one is my favorite," Flora continued. "No two cows have the same Holstein's spot patterns.
They're unique like snowflakes and fingerprints." She smiled, her eyes sparkling like the constellation.
"And then two minutes later he sent me this one to follow up. You are my Holstein's spot because you
are one and only."

Sydney said aww and Dylan groaned. "Dude you are embarrassing."

"It's really cute! What do you call each other in private? Is there a cute little pet name?" Sydney pressed
on.

"No...we just call each other baby and handsome, you know, that sort of thing," Flora admitted. I knew
as soon as we went home she would nag me about thinking up a more unique and loving name for her. I
wondered how she felt about Holstein's spot.

"I think of Justin Bieber every time I hear the word baby," Dylan stated sourly.

"I call Dylan hot chocolate," Sydney supplied and I just about choked on mine. "He is hot and sweet just
like it."

I had to stifle a laugh with all my will power. "Thanks for ruining my guilty pleasure in winter."

"That's a good one." Flora nodded, always the supportive friend. "What does Dylan call you?"

"Ah, you don't want to know." Sydney waved a hand. "It's really obscene."

"It's a body organ," Dylan added with an evil smirk.

"You call her Dylan Reyes's brain? That's quite a mouthful," I commented and Flora laughed beside me.
She gave me a nudge and a look, and I could tell she thought they had much more sparks than we did.
We

played on for a while after dishing out more sexy little secrets from the better couple which was bound
to give me nightmares afterwards. Flora blew across her hot chocolate and brought up the subject of
our basketball team captain.

"Why do you guys hate Liam Turner?"

"I don't hate him," I objected. "But I'm really looking forward to the day Dill replaces him as captain."

"Well, I hate him. He is a jackass," Dylan said. Liam was one year older than us, a senior then, and he got
into a shouting match with Dylan every time we lost.

Jake was the MVP on our team, but he treated the games like he did everything else: a laugh. I got
irritated sometimes but I didn't lose my temper much. Dylan, however, took basketball to heart. He
would watch videos of previous games over and over until he came up with the perfect strategy,
customized for each opposing team.

He and the captain pretty much disagreed on everything and the only thing they had in common was a
short-fused temper and the desire to win.

"He gives us a hard time when we don't win and he blames Dylan," I explained. Naturally we took
Dylan's side. "For example, he accuses him of playing favorites when he passes to Jake and me."

Dylan exhaled. "I pass to them because they can score, not because they are my best friends."

"Liam is a pretty good player, though," Sydney commented. "He can slam-dunk."

"That's about all he can do," Dylan said darkly. By then a waitress had come to refill water for us, and
she was wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline. When she leaned down to pour water the outline of
her

purple bra was visible. I saw it but Dylan, being a pal, kicked me under the table anyway.

Dylan used to be a serial cheater although he called them mishaps. He had pulled his act together, but
he still checked out other girls the same way he checked out Sydney on her first day of school.

Okay, I guess we all look, but he could be a little more tactful because Sydney caught it too. Instead of
commenting on this behavior, she went back to our conversation. "Well, even if it's all he can do, that's
one thing more than you," she said in a mean tone as she directed it at Dylan, who thirty minutes ago
was her hot chocolate.

"Yes, I can't do anything. I'm one thing short from you because I don't know how to use a tampon," he
spat out.

"You basically scored two points at the game last Friday," Sydney went on. "If you are plucked from the
team that would be the consequence: your team will be two points less."

That was actually quite nasty because Dylan nearly got thrown off the team just recently for getting into
a fight defending her. Some guy groped her at a party and Dylan had a couple of drinks. He used to get
detention on a regular basis, but he had never broken some guy's nose before.
"Dylan doesn't shoot a lot because he is the point guard," I found myself saying even though I really
should just stay out of it. "He is like the quarterback. His contributions are not measured by how many
points he scores, but how he creates opportunities for us and initiates attacks."

Sydney rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I don't know what a point guard is, but it sounds like

someone who sucks at shooting."

I couldn't believe that came from a cheerleader who came to all our games. Flora may get mad at me
from time to time, but in front of my friends we always had a united front and she would never
humiliate me like that.

"Maybe you should shut up before people realize you are stupid, Syd," Dylan said. "Or is that too late?"

"Oh, come on," Flora cut in brightly, putting an arm around Sydney's shoulder. "I don't know what
position Sean plays either, but as long as they look good in their varsity jackets, I don't complain." She
lied because she totally knew, and she had an elaborate theory about what position each of us should
really be playing to improve the whole team. "Don't you think it's lucky that we get to be cheerleaders
and we can cheer for the boys of our hearts? It's both public and intimate at the same time. I love
watching them play."

"Maybe Sydney is too busy being a terrible cheerleader to watch me play," Dylan suggested. He really
should stop while he could. By then he had started to down his water quicker than the speed of rain
absorption in Sahara desert, so that the waitress in purple bra would fill his glass more frequently. I
wasn't sure if that was just to annoy Sydney or if he did it at every date.

Finally she said, "Maybe you should just ask her for some duct tape so you can glue your face to her
cleavage."

"If I had duct tape I'd use it over your mouth." Dylan shrugged.

Sydney picked up her glass and threw the remaining water over his face. For a split second I was
fascinated. I had heard of this move so often,

but never to see it carried out in real life.

Flora stood up suddenly and said she had to make a call outside. I couldn't believe she abandoned me in
the middle of the battlefield by myself, when she was the one who fervently suggested this. I watched
my friends on the verge of a breakup right in front of me when my phone rang, and I saw it was Flora.

"This is your rescue call," she said. "Come join me outside."

Dylan and Sydney were too busy tearing each other apart to care that I had left the table. I pushed open
the door to find Flora. She giggled as soon as she saw me.

"Happy now?" I said. I pinched her nose.

"We should have taken Daniel's art class," she said laughing. "What the heck was that?"

"That was one of the duller episodes of The Sydney Dylan Show."
She reached up to circle my neck with her arms. "I've wanted to do this all evening, my dear shooting
guard."

We kissed for a while at the corner of the coffee shop and waited for our friends to make up, relieved to
finally have a moment alone. By the time we left we were so convinced that we were the best couple in
the world. So what if we didn't have sickly sweet pet names for each other? We were a team and we
never fought dirty. We just had not-so-heated discussions which never resulted in insulting each other.

But Dylan and Sydney had stayed together while I gave up on Flora. That was the thought that circled
my head when I went to the coffee shop to retrieve Flora's clue for the next stop, hidden in the box of
Monopoly.

She had given me a second chance. I would never screw up again.

***

After

a few more stops, I found myself standing in a record store. I came here as instructed but I had no idea
what I was supposed to look for. I stood there for a long time, picking up CDs distractedly, hoping to find
some hint. My guess was that no matter where Flora planted her next sign, it was probably lost and the
chain broke.

She was not picking up her phone. The emergency number lay sharply on my forearm, willing me to dial.
It was a house number. I didn't know if this was considered an absolute emergency, but judging from
the time I wasted here I would say that it was.

I was eager to see her. She would be at the final stop, without doubt.

I took out my phone and dialed.

"Hello," a cool voice picked up at the other end. I couldn't quite place it but it sounded strangely
familiar.

"Hi...is this the emergency number?" I couldn't believe how stupid that sounded.

The person seemed dumbfounded for a split second, and then laughed. "Hello, Sean. This is Sandra."

"Sandy?" Why hadn't I thought of that before?

"Yeah. I'm here to help Flora complete her idea of a fascinating trip down memory lane," Sandra said, as
if she found the whole thing ridiculous. "Where are you?"

"I'm at a record store on Newton Street."

"That's right. It's where you're supposed to be at."

"I don't know where to go from here."

"You are meant to be stuck there for a while. Flora wants to stall you while she prepares for the final
stop. Basically you need to answer a few questions about her and if you get them right I will direct you
to the next stop," she said, bored. "Do you find this
as stupid as I do?"

"Maybe we can skip this whole part and you can tell me directly where to find her," I suggested. This
sounded like the kind of game that would be played during a bachelorette party.

"Okay, so the first question is," Sandra started, ignoring me, "what's Flora's favorite color?"

"Flora doesn't have a favorite color."

"Nice," Sandy cheered. "Flora would never leave home without: a. Her lip balm, b. Her Bobbi Brown
sheer finish pressed powder, c. Her sunglasses--"

"D. Her cell phone," I cut in. Hell would break loose if she didn't check the responses on her twitter
every five minutes. Maybe a bomb threat would appear and she needed to catch it in time.

"Correct again. Okay, this one is a little harder. What's her dream for the future?"

"She wants to be a fashion editor in Paris."

"You do know a thing or two about Flora," Sandra said on the other end, impressed.

I exhaled. "Sandy, despite what you might think, I'm really serious about her."

"Yeah, I know," she said in a moment of uncharacteristic kindness. "I heard about the latest
developments. Look..." Sandra stopped.

I waited for her to continue.

"I'm sorry about helping her plot revenge," she said awkwardly. "I didn't know what happened back
then. It's a stupid mistake. I mean, you're a good person." These sentences came out rushed and forced
as if it physically tormented her to say something nice to me.

I laughed. "It's okay. You were being her friend. And come to think of it, without this operation Flora and
I might never get back together, so thank you,

I guess."

"Hmm, that's true. You should thank me." Sandra snapped right back to her usual role as a meanie.
"Without me Flora would have scared you right off. Playing hard to get does it, right? I bet you were
miserable."

"Yes, Sandy. Thanks a lot," I said sarcastically.

"To break up over Raymond Corbett is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," she went on, rubbing it in.
"I despise him."

Like that was anything to panic over. Sandra despised everyone. "Yeah, he's not getting my vote for
homecoming king this year. You'll just have to dance with someone else."

Sandra laughed. "Let me pour myself a tall glass of Thank God for that. Okay, back to the quiz. Name
three things Flora hates."

"Being on time, saving money, and oversize t-shirts with logos," I said randomly.
"Acceptable answers. What is the sexiest thing about Flora?"

"Her sense of humor," I said immediately and Sandra laughed presumptuously.

"No, dummy. The answer she put down is: the place between her neck and her shoulders."

Oh. So we were talking body parts. "You mean her trapezius muscle?" Of all the possibilities I would
never come up with that.

"Yes. And to her, what is the sexiest thing about you?"

I had no idea because anything could strike Flora as "kind of hot" from time to time, even things like the
dark shadows under my eyes or the veins in my forearms. "I don't know...maybe my pecs?"

"No," Sandra corrected, and I could almost sense her eyes rolling all the way upward and getting stuck in
her frontal lobe. "She says it's the

inconsistency. These are her words, and if I stop in the middle of my sentence it's because I have gone to
barf up the salad I just had. She thinks you're a brooding hunk on the outside, but deep down you're the
sweetest guy she's ever met."

Having this conversation with Sandra was more uncomfortable than I imagined. I was flattered and
embarrassed. "Is that fair, Sandy?" I complained, not wanting to respond to the answer itself. "The last
question demands an anatomic answer, and now this one asks for a concept. Who can get these
questions right?"

"Well, she's your girlfriend, you asked for it. Okay, now, what's the sexiest thing you've ever done
together?"

I knew I definitely didn't want to share this one with Sandra. "I'd rather not go into intimate details....did
Flora really put this down?"

Sandra laughed. "Busted. That was just for my own sick pleasure."

I groaned. "Sandra, can I walk you back to hell where you belong?"

"Haha. Funny. Now you just have to send me a 3000-word essay on everything you like about her, then
you're on your way."

"What? Seriously?"

"Nah, just kidding." Sandra's laugh rang rudely in my ears. "She's at The Cape waiting for you. Good
luck."

***

On the way to see Flora I was thinking how a lot of things had happened between us last year. She had
done so much to make it fun. We may have different ideas concerning most of everything, but there was
no question about it that she had always made an effort, which was more than I could say for myself.

What have I ever done for Flora? Not really anything,

I concluded. I didn't give her romance, empathy or trust. Not even honesty. All this time I was
concentrating on what was missing in our relationship, and it had made me miss what was right in front
of me.

A fabulous girl who had gone out of her way to make me happy, who cared about me even when I
denied her the chance. This dazzling girl I was in love with the whole time had loved me back in her own
way, but I was too blind to see it just because it was not the way I was used to.

When I pulled up next to her car at The Cape, all the old and new memories rushed at me like the
avalanche simulation we saw this morning, which already felt old because I went through so much
today.

She was sitting in the back seat waiting for me, and her car was decorated with all the leftover LED string
lights from Linda's party (white ones, not any of those colorful ones during Christmas, according to her).
A soft song was playing from the radio. Her eyes looked darker than usual, like rare pieces of meteors.
They bore into mine and I stared at her transfixed.

I felt so many different kinds of emotions next to her, and this time a few good ones were thrown into
the mix. Gratitude, happiness, serenity, and hope. Most of all I just felt really lucky.

Her face broke into a stunning smile. She reached in front and brought back a box of pizza. "Want a
slice?"

=================

Chapter 45 The beach house

Flora

I went to Rome with my family once. I remember visiting the arena, where ancient gladiators and lions
were supposed to fight and kill each other. Our tour guide told us an interesting anecdote about how
back then they would starve the lions for a week, then they would rub the smell of meat and female
lions on the gladiators so that the lions would be more motivated.

I only saw the remains of the arena, but I imagined if I could look into the eyes of one of those hungry
beasts, I would find what I saw in Sean's eyes that moment.

"Was it fun?" I asked. I felt flushed. My boyfriend could give me a fever just by staring at me, like one of
the characters on X-Men.

"It was. Brought back a lot of memories. Including the part where Sandy's mean to me," he said and I
laughed. I could absolutely imagine how that went.

I offered him the pizza again because I felt shy, which was ridiculous, but actually not that ridiculous
because it was Sean before me. I hoped he got it that I really cared a lot for him by planning a juvenile
date, and I thought he did.

"Pizza can wait," he said.

He leaned in and I closed my eyes. It tasted like a first kiss. Not his techniques, obviously, but how it
made me feel.
Like no one else mattered before him.

I could taste the urgency on his lips, the resolution, and there was a hint of desperation behind his
usually calm demeanor. He was almost aggressive. We made out until the pizza got cold, and it didn't
stop there. To be honest I didn't really want him to stop. He was setting off an array of firecrackers
everywhere

he touched.

I was faintly aware that it would be a cascade down all the way if I hadn't pushed him off me weakly.

He let go of me immediately and jerked back. We must have realized at the same time that this was how
I lost my virginity, on the backseat of a car, and the memory repulsed me.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he started.

I sat up and straightened my skirt.

"That's so insensitive of me. I got carried away," he stammered.

"No, it's just...not like this."

He leaned back on the car seat and took a deep breath, pupils large, breathing erratic. He looked like he
was in need of a cold shower.

"Can you call your parents and tell them you are not going home tonight?" I asked.

***

We drove back to my apartment separately. I went up to pack a small overnight bag, then I got in Sean's
car next to him. He was still on the phone, and judging by the conversation, he was having a hard time
persuading his parents to let him stay out.

Then he said four magic words, and like pressing four digits into a safe, it worked.

"Mom, but it's Flora," he made his plea softly.

The conversation ended soon after that, and I smiled in satisfaction as he hung up. "Your mom must like
me very much."

"Yes, that too." He started the car. "But mostly it's because...she knew how I was when we broke up. I
didn't tell her how I felt but I guess she knows me better than I thought."

I felt a pang of sadness hearing that, imagining Sean hurt and depressed. At the same time there was
this undeniable sense of pride knowing that I held such an importance.

He

smiled. "Anyway, we got an extension. I'm glad you're not tired of my company yet."

"Not even close." I gave him the direction and he swerved into the evening.

"Are we going to your parent's beach house?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

After that we didn't say much. I was very nervous and my head was a mess with thoughts. I stared
outside the window and watched the lamp posts flew by.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if we had gone that night?" I asked suddenly. Maybe things
would have turned out differently, but maybe it really wouldn't be that different after all. Maybe we
would still get into another stupid fight and call it quits at the heat of the moment.

"Lots of times," Sean admitted.

We were silent for a while, then he said, "I should have tried harder. It was my mistake to let you go
home being mad at me. I think I didn't make much effort to work out any issues between us, because I
hate confrontations. I always thought you could self-heal because you're so cheery all the time."

I wasn't really cheery all the time. I just didn't want to infuriate him so I swallowed my anger and sulked
in private.

"And after it happened I should've given you a chance to explain," he went on. "You deserved that. After
everything you did for me, I just ran away. I put my pride before you, and I feel like I betrayed you."

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's in the past now." I turned my face to the night because I didn't want him to
see me cry.

I was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Sean knew me after all. He knew I felt wronged and that I
needed

to hear this, even though saying deep things from the heart wasn't what he was best at. I was mad that
we had to break up but also relieved that we got a second chance to fix it, now that we had both
matured somehow. Maybe we were meant to be apart for a while, because making up never felt so
good.

Sean didn't say anything but I suspected he could sense my tears. He steered the wheel with his left
hand and reached over to hold my hand with his right one.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he said again, the second time tonight, for completely different reasons. He held my
hand all the way to the beach house, firmly, soothingly, making a silent statement.

I felt like a part of him had opened up to me, and for the first time in our relationship, I felt completely
understood.

***

After we arrived, everything unfolded rapidly. It felt fated. Strictly speaking he had seen me naked
before, but the atmosphere was utterly different compared to how playful we were a year ago. We
were always giggling when fooling around. Sean may be a gentleman, but he made dirty jokes about job
offers and going all the way every chance he got, and the first time I was about to take off my bra, he
had stopped me with a smile.

"Wait. I want to try something."

He snaked his hand to my back, and with a flick of his wrist, he had managed to unhook my bra with one
hand.

"Hmmm." He beamed as it fell away. "That was easier than I expected."

I had the sneaking suspicion he had lots of practice, but he claimed he learned it off YouTube. "Didn't
you know? This is my one and only talent."

But on this fateful night, I

was glad he didn't make any stupid jokes. He was in smoldering silence leading up to it, and he didn't
break the spell by asking for my permission eight thousand times. At first he gazed at me like I was a
model on the runway, like I was perfect and divine but he was not allowed to touch, then he started
caressing me gently, paying attention to my reaction. He made it more about me than him, we didn't
break eye contact, and he never stopped kissing me. I felt loved and cherished beyond belief.

I had imagined sex with Sean would be as fervent as in the movies, with buttons popping everywhere
and shirts torn and my head slamming into the headboard, the bed would creak like a terminally-ill
patient about to give out, and I would probably die and go to 0rgy heaven seven times...but on the
contrary it was like slipping into a warm scented bath. It was slow, gentle, comforting, and never before
had I felt so close to someone.

And it was perfect. The sound of his breaths picking up speed, the heat from his body, the smell of his
skin, and the touch of his fingers rushed at my senses all at once. I was half wishing I'd saved myself for
him but half glad that I had gotten the first time out of the way, because otherwise it wouldn't have
been so amazing. Sean was like an improved version of a prescription drug: more powerful, longer-
lasting with no side effects.

Well, one side effect. It was highly addictive. The only thing hotter than a sixteen-year-old Sean Foster
last year was probably a seventeen-year-old one. He didn't look like Captain America, yet, because let's
be realistic

he was still a teenager, but underneath his clothes there was a beautifully toned body and the sexiest
back dimples. I couldn't tear myself away from him.

We finished the rest of the icy pizza afterwards, then we did it again. The second time was even better
than the first, because what can I say? My king was a physics genius. He knew about essential things like
force, speed, friction, collision, and angles. That's all I can reveal for now.

I lay on his chest in complete postcoital bliss. We cuddled and his arms fitted nicely around my body like
a Balmain leather jacket.

"That was so good," he purred.

"It was. Shouldn't you have a license for being that awesome?" I said.

He smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Admit it, you planned an incredible date just to lure me into
bed."

"How did you find out about that?" I widened my eyes in feigned fright. "Have you been reading my
diary?"
"I bet it's worth it, though." He squinted at me playfully. "Every scheming plot you have in your pretty
head."

"Definitely worth it."

He touched his forehead to mine and kissed me. His eyes were closed and a cute smile tugged at his lips.
"You can just ask. I'm incredibly easy."

We kissed the night away with fragments of conversation in between, and I rambled on breathlessly
about everything I had wanted to tell him, mostly my Godzilla-sized crush on him. He told me how much
he had missed me and wanted me beside him. I didn't remember when I fell asleep.

***

I woke up first.

When I did I turned my head and saw that Sean was still sleeping. I ran my eyes over his

face tenderly. When he was asleep he really looked quite angelic, and just watching him, next to me
seeming all peaceful and contented, my heart swarmed with happiness.

I got up quietly and made two cups of espresso with our newly installed coffee maker, then I brought it
over to the night stand. I thought if he could wake up to the smell of coffee it would be really nice. I
wanted to run my fingers through his dark hair but was afraid of startling him. The King needed his
weekend beauty sleep and caffeine to follow.

I quietly sipped my coffee next to him as I watched his face. At that moment my heart was bursting at
the seams with love for him. I loved him. I loved him dearly. It was not just because he was absolutely
beautiful to look at. I honestly believed everything about him was perfect, or at least imperfectly
perfect.

His long lashes fluttered like a cicada waking up from a winter slumber, and he opened his eyes groggily.
When they rested on my face, he gave me a really sexy, lazy smile. "Hey."

"Good morning, handsome," I said.

"Good morning. You're still here. Then yesterday was not a dream."

"You can't get rid of me that easily." I smiled and leaned over slightly to touch his face. He grabbed my
hand and kissed my knuckles.

"I had the best day of my life, and I woke up next to you." He gazed at me almost dreamily. "And you
made me coffee! Are you up for long?"

"No, I just had time to freshen up and make coffee. Check out if you like our new cappuccino machine."

"Okay, that smells so good." He rubbed his hands over his eyes and sat up, reaching over to pick

up his cup. His eyes narrowed blissfully and I was amazed at how easy it was to please him.

I stared at him over the rim of my mug. I couldn't think of a better way to start a cold morning, coffee in
hand and Sean lying beside me. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I have slept in a long time," he said. "I often wake up for no reason in the middle of the
night, and now I'm afraid I won't be able to go back to my own bed."

It's a good thing that he didn't know how much our mattress cost. He wouldn't be able to relax on it ever
again.

As soon as he finished his coffee, I snuggled up to him.

As Coco Chanel once said, "The best things in life are free. The second best things are very, very
expensive." I had been lost chasing the second best things for so long that I had forgotten how
wonderful the very best thing in my life was. He wrapped himself around me, and his embrace and the
scent of him reminded me of all the pure and lovely things in life. He smelled like melted snow, spring
sunshine, budding flowers, freshly-sharpened pencils, and clean linen.

I traced a line down his naked torso with my index finger, all the way to beneath his navel. "Are you
ready for round three?"

***

I lay back in my pillow and sighed. "Why are you so good at everything you do?"

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

I laughed. "Look...there's something I need to tell you."

"You are not a virgin. I know."

I chuckled and hit him with a pillow.

He smiled and held up his hands. "Okay. Sorry. What?"

I took a deep breath and I pretended to be

grave and serious. "I know we're supposed to have no more secrets left, but..." I sighed. "There's one
last thing I have been keeping from you."

He gazed back at me, getting more apprehensive by the second.

"And I really don't know how you'd feel about it, so I need you to promise me that you're not going to
freak out."

He ran his fingers through his hair briefly and exhaled. "I'll try."

"Okay, here goes...wait, never mind. I'm scared of your reaction."

"Jesus, Flora. Just tell me."

"I know this is uncool, and probably too soon, but I really want you to know..." I paused a few long
seconds for effect. "I love you."

It was his turn to be silent. After a few long seconds, he blinked and his body reclined, creating distance
between us. There was no joy on his face. "I wish you hadn't said that," he said finally.
I felt the color draining from my face. He really had a problem with responding properly to I love you.
"You don't need to say it back or... or anything," I stuttered. "I just want you to know how-"

"I want to say it first. Why do you always have to initiate everything?" he cut me off, shaking his head in
mock disapproval, before breaking into his gorgeous smile that always stopped my heart. "I love you
too. I love you so much."

I laughed and hit him again with the pillow. "Why do you have to be so annoying?"

He smiled. "What, you can tease me, but I can't tease you back?" He tackled me and we rolled on the
bed giggling like the lovesick teenagers we were. "I love you, Flora. You make me deliriously happy."

I planted kisses along his jawline and he kissed me back on my neck. After we finally got a hold of
ourselves, I sat up and asked, "When did you realize that? When did you start loving me?"

He took a while contemplating the question, then he said, "I don't know. But looking back, everyday
since you first confronted me at that party a year ago...I can't remember ever not loving you."

His blue eyes were calm and sincere, and I knew Sean would never lie to me. I rolled back into his arms
and smiled until my face hurt.

=================

Chapter 46 The 1975 Bordeaux and jealousy

Sean

I was really glad for once Flora didn't whine about going outside or inviting all of our friends over for an
impromptu party. She seemed perfectly contented with taking refuge in the beach house with me.
Apparently the antidote for boredom was sex. To me nothing beat this; cooked up in an isolated place
where it seemed like the end of the world, where the only things necessarily were the two of us and lots
of condoms.

I was exaggerating, of course. "We still have to eat some time," I said.

"Yeah." She sighed unhappily as if eating was hard labor. "Maybe you can rummage around the
cupboards and refrigerator to see if there's anything edible."

The kitchen was glorious, gleaming white and fully equipped with appliances, yet very empty. Flora
explained they almost never cooked. I managed to come across some dry pasta, a chunk of cheese, a
can of tomato paste, as well as various dried up spices.

"Do you want to have pasta?"

"You can cook?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Not really, but I can follow instructions. We can search for a recipe online. It shouldn't be harder than a
chemistry experiment, right? And there's more room for error."

"A chemistry experiment? You're so romantic, Sean." She shook her head and smiled. "Since you're the
expert, I'll let you conduct the experiment."
I started with the cooking and Flora started with the interrupting. She leaned against the large island in a
silk robe, the very definition of distracting.

"My brother Edward is an epicure," Flora started telling me. "He's extremely picky and thinks of himself
as

some kind of food critic, and whenever he's eating he comes up with pretentious descriptions like
simmering, robust, and crusts up in all the right places." She rolled her eyes. "But the thing is, he takes a
small bite and never finishes his food."

I placed the spaghetti in the pot as the water came to life with bubbles. It took seven minutes to be
ready. She came over to taste the tomato sauce, making an exaggerated sound of appreciation. "Yum!"

"Just yum? Not simmering and robust?"

She chuckled. "I appreciate fine food, but I'm just not good with compliments. The sauce is really tasty
though. You're awesome."

She stared at me with unmistakable admiration in her eyes, and I couldn't believe how I missed that
before. Like savoring cuisines, we didn't need well-structured lines to describe how we felt. I could
probably name a hundred special things about her, although Flora never asked. She probably couldn't
tell me anything other than she liked my face, even if I put a gun to her head, but I wasn't insecure
anymore. We loved each other and words were redundant, the way we showed our appreciation with
food by simply cleaning everything off the plate.

She hopped on the counter and crossed her legs. I glanced at her and our eyes met. It was inexplicable
how I still felt a bolt of electricity, the way Benjamin Franklin probably did on the day he decided to fly a
kite with a metal key into the storm clouds.

"Sean." The way she said my name had this strange, unexplainable pull to it, like it had claws. I dropped
the wooden spoon and went over to her,

and she wrapped her long legs around my waist and tugged me closer. I couldn't fight her even if I
wanted to.

I cupped her face and kissed her slowly. A soft sigh fell off her lips, and my brain completely stopped
functioning. It was like a feather falling off a cliff. I was floating, drifting, with nothing to hang on to. The
attraction was stronger than gravity.

The timer sounded, indicating it was time to take the noodles out.

"I should turn off the stove," I murmured, not really caring. My hands moved to her breasts, and in the
presence of those everything else paled in comparison.

"Hmmm." Flora responded by sticking her fingers in my hair and pulling me in to kiss her deeper.

The noodles were getting softer and limper by the second while I...well, I was not.

It's true: once you have sex, it's hard to go back to holding hands. At the rate this was going we were
never going to eat. I finally picked her up to carry her off to the living room.
"Just wait here for 20 minutes, okay, baby?"

She giggled. I set out to work while she lounged in front of the TV. When I brought out two plates of
spaghetti, she dove in like a hungry canine and gave me a somewhat insincere speech about how she
felt the tomatoes punch one another in a steamy fist fight on her tongue.

"It's really hard to be with someone who's so perfect," she claimed.

I took a bite and it was awful. I was no foodie and even I knew that the noodles were completely over-
boiled, but at least it was hot and salty, which was usually all I asked.

"We need some really good wine with it," she suggested.

"To

be honest really good wine is a waste on me."

"Come on, even you should be able to tell the difference. I want to enlighten you," she said
enthusiastically, already hopping off the couch. She proceeded to grab her silk scarf and ordered me to
close my eyes.

"No peeking," she instructed. I could feel her tying the cool material around my eyes. "You need to open
your senses."

"Is this really necessary?" I asked, hoping to finish my food.

I heard her padding off to the kitchen, ignoring my question as she often did. There was the sound of the
cork popping. The clinking of a glass against the counter. The faint sound of liquid bouncing off the glass.
Then I heard her walking back to me.

"I have two bottles here, and one of them is a 1975 Bordeaux, and the other is cheap supermarket wine
left over here by Janet," she explained in my ear. "Let your senses be awakened."

Only Flora would spring a bizarre wine tasting on me out of the blue. What I wouldn't give to have a can
of Pepsi right now. I knew exactly what it tasted like: sugar and empty calories, which was what made it
so freaking good.

"Okay, the first one." She let me smell the thing first, then I felt the cold glass press up to my lips lightly.
I took a sip.

"Do you like it?" came the eager question.

It tasted like...wine.

"I like it." That wasn't exactly a lie. I liked anything with alcohol percentage over 10%.

She fed me again. "How about this one? Which one do you like better?"

I really couldn't tell the difference. I took a random guess. "Maybe the latter." Surely the

good wine should come later?

I heard Flora set down the glass with a sigh, and there was strong disapproval in her tone. "Sean, I fed
you from the same glass."

I removed the blindfold. "That's unfair. It's a trick question!"

"I love you so much I couldn't bear to feed you cheap wine."

I smiled. "I really don't care. Cheap wine suits me fine, especially if you're the one feeding me."

"Cheap wine is bad for health."

"As long as it gets me drunk."

Flora exhaled, frowning in displeasure. "You just don't appreciate the finer things in life. It breaks my
heart."

"That's not true," I protested. "I appreciate you. You are the finest thing in my life."

"But this is part of me." Flora gestured to the wine bottle. "I'm about haute couture, expensive gifts,
luxury food, extravagant parties... these are the things that define me."

I knew it. We had already lasted more than 24 hours without fighting, and now the evil War God had
decided to wake up and stretch. Getting mad at me for not caring about something created 40 years ago
in France seemed really extreme.

"Flora, come on, you're not just about money."

"No, it's not about money. I knew you would say that because you just don't get it. It's about developing
taste," she said, getting more offended by the second. "It's about wanting to try new things. If you're so
comfortable eating fries and wearing Gap all the time, you'll miss out on a lot."

She didn't sound mad. Just disappointed.

"But I'm still in high school," I offered as an explanation. I sure wasn't tired of fries yet, and I was so
broke

after Linda's party and her spa treatments, I couldn't even afford Gap right now.

"It's not related to your age. It's your state of mind. I feel like I'm trying very hard to please you but
failing all the time."

"Flora, you please me by your existence. You don't need to try at all," I said, extremely surprised. I
always thought I was pretty easy to please.

"But when I try, I wish you could be a little more appreciative, and at least make some efforts to
understand me," Flora complained. "Sorry, I know you think I'm over-reacting. But ever since we
declared our undying love for each other I felt a little wacky because I want us to work so much."

"Me too." I felt touched, although I still didn't get why loving each other had anything to do with
showering in money. Flora really cared about my opinions, though. "I'm sorry. Let's try again. Tell me
what's so amazing about this bottle so I can have some knowledge to show off at my next luxury dinner
party."
She smiled as I made a big show of searching for a piece of paper so I could jot down notes, urging her to
give me a lecture on French Wine 101.

"So what's this supposed to taste like?"

She took a long sip. "Flowers...berries...minerals...and truffles," she reported.

Truffles? I knew what that tasted like. Flora made me truffle cream sandwiches for the picnic yesterday,
and it was nothing remotely similar to this.

"Are you sure you are not just reading off the label?"

Flora glared at me. "Don't insult my extraordinary taste buds."

"Alright then. You mentioned flowers. What kind

of flowers?"

"What do you mean what kind of flowers?"

"Well, not all flowers smell the same. Can you be more specific?" I placed my pen over my notes, where
I had put down the list of ingredients already. "In case you don't know, I'm a really good student and I
demand a perfect understanding of this subject."

"This is not a written test." She pouted. "But if you must know, I'd say violet."

I crossed out the word flower and put violet underneath.

"What kind of minerals?"

"You're impossible." She shook her head, but then she laughed despite herself. That was what I loved
about her, how she was such a good sport and that she always forgave me within seconds. She went on
to teach me about everything I should know about the sacred wine as if it was the blood of Christ, and I
nodded and tried my best to embrace the new knowledge, all the while still wishing I had a can of Pepsi
instead.

I couldn't care less about this lesson, but it didn't matter as long as I could make Flora happy.

***

In the late afternoon Flora flipped through the TV channels and decided on watching a very cliché teen
movie. I thought only 12-year-olds watch those but I reminded myself to keep an open mind, although
even Flora couldn't argue that it was one of the fine things in life. If I followed my impulse to roll my
eyes everytime the opportunity came, I'd have muscle strain in my eyes.

"Why do you enjoy watching movies that depict cheerleaders as boy-crazy zombies who can't carry on a
normal conversation?" I asked.

"They are amazingly right-on, don't you think?" Flora joked. "I can

totally relate to it."

The movie consisted of a very simple plot, a guy who thought he was in love with the soulless
cheerleader, not realizing his female best friend was the one for him. I could see the best friends ending
up together from the first scene, then I got ninety excruciating minutes to prove I was right.

Flora laughed at my occasional snarky remarks and said she loved watching with me.

"There's one important moral in this movie, however," I commented. "No guy is happy just being a girl's
friend and willingly helps her pick out her prom dress. There is always an ulterior motive."

"That's not true! I have plenty of guy friends who are perfectly happy just being friends."

"That's an illusion you let yourself believe."

"You don't have enough female friends to prove that theory. I'm telling you, my guy friends like me for
me, not as a potential girlfriend."

"Keep telling yourself that. They're just lurking and waiting to pounce. As soon as your boyfriend is out
of the picture, they get you drunk and try to kiss you," I couldn't help adding the last part.

She scowled. "Are you going to act like this every time the subject of Ray comes up?" She crossed her
arms. I felt fight number two coming right up.

"No, because we're never bringing him up again. I say we don't speak to him and shun him for life," I
said, half joking. I wasn't going to ask her to stop being his friend, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't hold
him accountable for coming between us.

"Isn't that a little extreme?"

"I think I'm entitled to hold a grudge because he's the reason we broke up."

"No." she shook her head firmly. "We are the reason we broke up. It's adorable that you decide to
blame him."

"Of course I blame him. He knew you had a jealous boyfriend but still he went to your place and came
on to you," I explained. "It shows that he has a weak sense of morality."

"Sean, you're morality personified. We're all sinners in front of you," she said mockingly.

I couldn't believe this. She was taking his side. I felt fury building up inside me and burning a tunnel
through my brain. Jealousy and 1975 Bordeaux really didn't mix well.

I vowed to never avoid confrontation with Flora again, but I was afraid I would say something that I
would regret later. I touched her gently on the shoulder as I stood up. "I need some air."

I walked out to the porch and stared at the ocean. It was so easy to love her despite our differences, but
sometimes these differences were so hard to ignore.

=================

Chapter 47 The dark alley kiss

Flora
I could see Sean brooding out on the porch. I'd always found it cute when he was set to jealous mode,
but sometimes he could really overreact. In his haste to run off and sulk like a toddler, he had forgotten
to take his coat.

I bet it was cold out there, but The King was obviously too cool to come back for it. I went out to find
him because I simply couldn't let him freeze.

"What's a gorgeous man like you doing out here alone?" I asked, draping the coat over his back.

He turned to me and managed a very reluctant smile. "I'm thinking."

"About what? How to break up with me the day after getting back together?"

I meant to lighten the mood, but as soon as the words were out the thought hit me hard with a pang,
kind of like the way it felt when I found the last piece of a perfect dress hanging on the rack, only to see
it was size L.

I had never been in an in-love kind of relationship and suddenly it was too precious to handle. Everytime
I came across one of our differences I felt like I needed to eradicate it immediately, like it was a zombie
and if I didn't blow off its head fast, it would contaminate the rest of the mankind; although there were
about eight million of them out there. Our differences, I mean.

He frowned at me. "No, I don't want to break up with you. I'm scared to even think about it."

Good. That was one thing in common. "Sean, that was such a long time ago. It's a misunderstanding.
Can't we just forget about it?"

The chilly wind was blowing serenely, ruffling through my hot boyfriend's hair. Some guys are worth
fighting

for, while some guys are just too cute to fight with. I should heat up the Jacuzzi, I was thinking, when he
decided to explore the issue further.

"I know it's a misunderstanding, but I'm thinking that back then, even if you had told me beforehand
that you were meeting him, I'd still ask you not to. So I get why you didn't want to tell me."

"Oh good! Then you understand!"

"The thing is, I don't understand why you have this...need to hang out with him."

"Good question." I turned around and leaned against the railing, suddenly glad that he brought this up. I
was eager to share my thoughts about it. "Since you asked, I want to tell you that when he came over, it
didn't feel wrong. I felt liberated. Like I was able to do something to cheer myself up instead of moping
around being mad at you. Why can't I hang out with other people when you're busy?"

"I never said you couldn't hang out with other people. Didn't I ask you to see your friends all the time?"

"Well, Raymond is my friend. A pretty good one, I might add," I declared righteously.

"I'd have no problem if you went out with a group of people."

"But I don't want to hang out with a group all the time," I whined. "You don't get to have a real
conversation. It's different with just two people and I like it. Besides, sometimes those meet ups are
spontaneous, and it'd be really ridiculous trying to recruit a third person."

He exhaled. "Flora, but drinking with a guy alone in your room is really intimate. Some guys might get
the wrong idea."

"Would you feel better if I drink with a group

of guys in my room?" I joked, but Sean didn't look amused. He put on his coat, and I could see he was
starting to get upset.

"Come on, this is our routine." I clutched his arm. "He always comes over, the same way Sandy does. I
think it's unfair that Ray is off limits just because he's a guy, because I honestly don't consider him any
more than a friend who I can have a fabulous time with."

He scoffed. "What's so fabulous about him?"

"Well, he's complex. He seems so nice initially, but once you get to know him you discover how mean
and perceptive he is. I can't stop laughing at all the horrible things he says."

I probably did a lousy job of describing him because it didn't impress Sean at all, or perhaps he just
hated it whenever I said nice things about other guys. "I've always thought he's pretty fake. Now it
seems like he has two personalities, and both of them are annoying."

"All that negative energy radiating off of him is actually pretty intriguing. He says the most hilarious
things when he's hating on the whole class." I shared a few of Raymond's choice of insults, things I
otherwise wouldn't have noticed such as weird-looking eyebrows, but just as expected Sean didn't find
any joy in picking on other people's appearances. Since he was so perfect-looking himself it was
understandable, the way I was always careful of making jokes about poor people.

"That seems like a really useful talent, picking out people's physical flaws," Sean said. "I hope he gets
paid for it."

"Not just physical flaws, he finds personality traits to laugh at too," I added.

He

shook his head. "You know who Raymond should hang out with? Sandra. There's nothing like bonding
over common hatred, and in their case the target is everyone else."

I laughed, amused by the idea of Sandra and Raymond together, bitching about how people rub them
the wrong way by waving with the wrong hand. Between the two of them, they could probably write an
encyclopedia with all their pet peeves. "You know what? We should all hang out together. Maybe you'll
learn to like him!"

"No thanks," Sean refused immediately. "What if he tries to kiss me?"

I chuckled. "Fine, you don't have to like all my friends, but at least let me hang out with him the way I
always did before I met you."
At this point Sean sighed, and I started to worry if this discussion had drawn on for too long. "I'm not
saying you can't be friends," he said, "but if you want to invite someone to your room and share a few
beers, that person should be me. Am I not enough for you?"

Is he not enough for me? That was a tricky question. On the one hand he was everything I needed and
wanted, but as a boyfriend. Sean didn't understand that he couldn't be my everything. I was not just his
girlfriend, I was also Flora Morgan, Raymond's (and at least half a dozen of other guys') close female
friend, and being in a relationship should not redefine me. My guy friends were not just spare tires to
me.

"Friends are not just substitutes for lack of a relationship," I said profoundly, feeling extremely proud of
myself. Friendships and relationships are two diverse roads. Sean was never my

friend before he became my boyfriend, and up until the day before he had been my hot ex-boyfriend
who I was secretly planning to lure back to my lair. Raymond, on the other hand, was someone I would
never consider even if we were abducted by aliens and the responsibility of reproducing human
offspring fell upon us. "I don't like Raymond romantically, but I like our routine and I don't want to give
that up. You have nothing to worry about."

I decided to end my argument with a catchy analogy. "I'm not a science nerd, but I know at least this
much. No amount of catalysts can make a reaction happen if it's not going to happen in the first place."

He raised his eyebrows in approval and smiled. "Impressive. But I think Raymond is a very unstable
substance. He can undergo chemical changes spontaneously and possibly denature himself, and after
that there's no telling what might happen."

Ugh. Why did I choose a science analogy? I should stick to food.

"Flora, seriously, am I not enough?" Sean asked again softly, and I could see he was hurt by the fact that
I was choosing Raymond over him, although I was most definitely not.

"You're my favorite teenager in the world," I said honestly. I would've said person, but I should probably
save that line for my mom. "I love you more than chai lattes, Hermès and St. Regis Hotels all added
together. But please don't make me choose."

I would shut right up if anyone ever told me that I was more important than Hermès, but my heartfelt
comparison was lost on Sean. He probably didn't know any of the things I just mentioned.

"Flora,

I've been thinking if I should just let you do whatever you want." He sighed. "But I can't. I'm sorry. I
know you're a very free-spirited person, and it's not that I don't trust you, but I think you're a little too
close with your guy friends. Can't you just invite a few more people and hang out at the mall or
something?"

Why was I even surprised? "I'm sorry, but that's just how I am. I like hanging out with them without
worrying about keeping them at arm's length, and I like acting mean and immature with Raymond, when
it's just the two of us. It's liberating and I need this outlet once in a while to blow off steam. If you can't
love me because of it..." I swallowed.
I would stop acting mean and immature, obviously. I couldn't continue my words as I imagined Sean
confiscating his love. It'd be worse than being forced to wear second hand clothes for the rest of my life.

He took me in his arms, impulsively, and held me against him. "I love you. I love you no matter what. But
it's going to make me very uneasy if you don't let me have my way on this."

"I really don't see why it's such a big deal," I attempted one last weak protest, and he decided to tackle
this from another angle.

"Okay, how would you feel if I invited some girl to my room?"

I pulled back from his embrace and considered the unlikely scenario. Sean cracking open a can of beer
and handing it over to some other girl (who was probably sporting a bigger cup size than yours truly).
Sean sitting on his bed with another girl, telling her he found her interesting. Sean leaning over in his
drunken

state and..."I wouldn't be overjoyed. Fine, I'd be pretty mad, but that's different."

"How's that different?" He folded his arms.

"Because." I rolled my eyes. "Because you're not like that. You're borderline antisocial." Sean was all
about boundaries. Not even Janet went to his room when she dropped by to visit, and they mostly met
in public places.

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Just because I don't flirt with everything in sight doesn't mean I'm
antisocial. And yesterday you said you dig that I'm detached."

"I mean I'd know something is up if you want alone time with another girl, so naturally I'd be alarmed.
It's out of character for you, but for me it really doesn't mean anything because it's what I always do. I
like getting to know people and making friends. That's why I think we should have customized rules to
suit our different traits."

"You just spent five sentences to describe double standards," he retorted without missing a beat.

I didn't know how to debate with him because he was too good. He did have a point. He didn't ask me to
cut Raymond from my life entirely, just that I should cut him a little looser. His best friend was a girl but
he kept his distance, and all he was asking was that I did the same. He wanted a fair rule we could both
go by.

But at the same time, I didn't think I was wrong and I didn't want to change. We were different people
expected to fit into the same mold. We had opposite personalities and we each had our own idea as to
how close we felt comfortable around other people, yet Sean wanted everything

standardized.

I would learn to accept it, however, because Sean's love was more important than my entire collection
of guy friends.

I put my arms around his waist. "I won't do it again," I said. Just the feel of his lean, muscular body
against me convinced me I put down the correct answer, that he was reasonable and I was whiny. This
was a successful negotiation after all.
He looked at me and smiled, glad that he had managed to talk some sense into me. His eyes were the
color of the ocean, the deep end, and I felt hypnotized.

I would do anything to please him, even if he wanted me to be someone else who was easier to love.

***

Sunday evening, on the way back to civilization I was going to suggest celebrating our new found love at
a really good French restaurant, the kind that you would find eighteen different cutleries on the table,
but then I thought why bother. Sean probably couldn't fit the dress code, plus his machismo pride
wouldn't allow me to pay for dinner, so never mind.

We chose a cheap diner to sit down, and I bet the only thing Sean checked in the menu was the price. I
didn't blame him though; I knew he was short on cash lately, and I was happy just sitting across from
him and absorbed in his lovely features the way a sunflower soaked up the sun.

"You're giving me a stress ulcer the way you stare at me," he complained with a smile.

I giggled. "Sorry. I don't get tired of looking at you."

"That's great. Maybe next time you can come to my room and stare at me so I don't have to Google for
fun date ideas."

Fun date ideas was

my job, obviously. What would he do without me? As I finished eating and put down my fork, a thought
struck me from out of nowhere.

"What did you and Leslie do on a date?"

I could sense him tensing up immediately. "Excuse me?"

I knew he heard me the first time, but I repeated anyway. "What did you and Leslie usually do on a
date?"

He took his time drinking from the glass of water in front of him, stalling. "Can we please not talk about
her? I know everything I said can and will be used against me."

That just showed he had things to hide. When a convict doesn't cooperate with the police it goes
without saying he committed the crime. Maybe Leslie wasn't what met the eye and was super fun in
front of him. Maybe she was more romantic and better at organizing memorable dates than I was! How
unimaginable!

I wasn't jealous, just extremely curious. "You promised you'd tell me anything."

"Okay," he relented, but it was clear he would rather talk about nuclear leakage in Japan. "We didn't
really do much, mostly I went to her house and she practiced her violin and I did my homework. In
summer I went to a physics lab in daytime so we only met at night after dinner, and we just took walks
and talked. That's all."

I asked him about his dates, not about community service. "That's it?"
"That's it. I swear."

"And you enjoyed it?"

"I guess I liked the routineness of it," he said conservatively.

"But that sounds like the kind of things you can do with your pet dog, minus the violin."

I actually didn't say it to be mean, but Sean narrowed

his eyes at me. "Flora, come on."

"I'm just really surprised. Are these things what you like to do on dates? You must have been so
miserable putting up with her!"

"Can you not get mad at me if I give you an honest answer?" He asked, and when I nodded he said, "First
of all I need you to know I like to do anything with you. You're the best date I've ever had. But honestly, I
like the evening walks better than going to parties or traveling between different restaurants. I think the
being together part is more important than taking part in an exciting activity."

I could feel a small artery just popped in my brain and blood was oozing all over the place. I thought he
was just being nice when he said he liked the routineness, because Sean was too polite to proclaim
outright that Leslie was an utter bore, but now I realized he meant it. He seriously thought taking
evening walks was the optimal option.

"So all the trouble I went through was just a waste of time and energy." And money.

"No! I love dating you. I really do," he said. "I'm just saying as long as I can be with you it doesn't matter
what we do. We can do the things you like because I'm okay with anything."

I shook my head numbly. I couldn't think. I didn't understand my boyfriend at all even though he was the
best-looking guy on the East Coast and I loved him so much.

It was like adding a lavish diamond necklace to the whole ensemble, only to be torn apart by style
critiques that the jewelry was completely tasteless. His words were like a slap to the face. He was saying
no to some of the most valuable qualities

about me.

I prided myself on my ability to appreciate the good things in life, to make friends with anyone, and that
I was fun and people came to me when they wanted to have a good time. I was such a great event
planner and I thought my specialty was dating. Sean wanted me to change into a sweet quiet girl who
would stay home and have fries and cheap wine with him.

But he said he loved me. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into.

One glance at my face and he knew he couldn't get me to bounce back to cheery mode with one of his
witty lines. Luckily the check had come, disrupting the ominous atmosphere between us. He paid quickly
then dragged me out to the alley beside the restaurant.

"I want to go home," I muttered.

"I can't let you go home like this," he said. "I'm never making that mistake again. Tell me what you're
thinking."

I shook my head again, and this time the tears came. "I don't know if it's worse that you don't love me,
or that you love me for all the wrong reasons."

He stricken in front of me, looking panicked and confused. I distractedly commented at the back of my
mind that the way he nervously regarded my tears was incredibly endearing, like he was five and he just
broke his mom's favorite china. "You have to stop crying first because it really scares me, and I have no
idea what you're saying."

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath, nodding as I did so. I was so out of control I scared myself. I
may be a drama queen but this was the wrong kind of drama. I preferred starring in a romcom with
designer clothes and impeccable

makeup, strolling down the boulevard flipping my hair, instead of hiding in a dark alley outside a lousy
restaurant crying for no reason at all.

"Come on, I know I may be boring to date, but seldom does it end in tears," he said. "Most of the time it
ends with the girl telling me I'm a really good kisser."

I giggled despite myself, making an unattractive snorting sound.

"Good, you smiled." Sean was visibly relieved. He came closer. "Now, tell me what's wrong. I know
talking about Leslie will get me into trouble, but I didn't expect it to be this serious."

I incoherently told him about how he didn't appreciate the best things about me. "You don't like any of
the things that matter to me. You don't like fashion, fine dining, designer brands, or my guy friends. You
don't even like the extravagant dates I planned for you!" I sniffled, feeling more stupid by the second,
like I always did when I realized how petty my life goal was compared to his. "How can you be sure that
you love me without having anything in common with me? I'm worried that we have amazing chemistry
but we aren't that compatible."

He was silent for a while as he considered this, and I was afraid he was starting to agree with me. This
was one of the instances that I begged to be contradicted. I needed him to tell me I was wrong and
overanalyzing.

"Well, you are right, I don't care much about any of the things you just mentioned," he started slowly,
and I felt my heart plummeting from a tree and hitting every branch on the way down, adding bruises
and scratches. "But I like that you're always able to surprise

me, your energy and your enthusiasm. I don't need to go on extravagant dates, but I like that you care
about me and you put a lot of effort into planning one. I don't care about fashion but I like your air of
confidence when you brag about how you're fashion inspiration to mankind. I can't tell the difference
between good and bad food, but I can't stop smiling when you boss me around about dining etiquette. I
also enjoy hearing you talk about trips to Europe and the quality of your car and how your hobby is
rolling around in Egyptian cotton.

"And I'm not gonna lie. I really don't like your guy friends, but I appreciate your ability to make friends
with anyone. Does that make sense, dear Flora?"
I nodded, impressed with his ability of persuasion. "That's kind of like the way I admire you when you're
studying. You look really sexy when you slave over your physics problems and I love the concentration
on your face."

"Well, you obviously have a really twisted idea about what's sexy. But yeah that's what I meant."

I smiled. I knew all about sexy. I had been in very close proximity with sexiness for the past 36 hours.

"I know we don't agree on a lot of things, but remember what you said before? You worry about fun and
I worry about safety. That's what makes us such a great pair." His eyes shone in the evening light. "We
complement each other."

"We complement each other," I repeated, trying the words out. It sounded promising. "So you don't
think I'm wrong for you? I mean, you can easily find your soul mate among all the girls who have crushes
on you. Surely one of them would be down-to-earth

and you guys can talk about the theory of relativity all the time."

"No, I hate nerds. They are so boring," he said with a perfect straight face.

"Isn't that like discrimination against your own people?" I smiled and he smiled too.

"Come on, Flora. Do you really think I'm looking for someone to talk physics with? I don't care that we
like different things, and I certainly don't want to date myself."

"But I'm also bratty and really superficial, Sean. I like having fun and my attention span is like a three-
year-old who watches too much SpongeBob SquarePants. I can't engage in any kind of smart people talk
with you."

He chuckled. "You are smart. I can't engage in any kind of rich people talk with you, either."

"That's okay. I just wish you'd let me spend money on you once in a while."

"If it makes you happy then I guess so," he agreed as if I was asking him for a kidney. I wasn't too
concerned about it, though. I knew the power of money, and the good life was fairly easy to get used to.
"Look, I don't believe in soul mates. At least, I don't think they are found. They are created. If we're
together longer we'll learn to adapt to each other's ways," he said firmly. "We'll have some quiet nights
and we can go to parties too. I'll try whatever you think I should. I'm willing to learn new things
together, even things like salsa."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sean." I scoffed. "I already know how to salsa."

"Good. I was just exaggerating to make a point."

I smiled. "I don't care that you can't dance. But it'd be nice if we can find some things in

common and some activities we can do together."

He raised his eyebrows in mockery and smirked. "I thought we already established that. There's a
certain activity we've been doing for two days."

"Besides that," I said pointedly and he grinned.

"You make me really happy," he said. "I hope I make you happy too. That's all I ask for."

"Of course you do. I'm just really scared because I've never been in love before," I admitted. "I'm really
afraid of wrecking this."

"I'll make it worth it. Don't over think, baby. We may not be a perfect couple, but I think we have
something good. And who wants to be perfect anyway? Perfect is boring."

But you are perfect, I thought, but decided against saying it. "I'm going to be acting really crazy from
time to time."

"I know you're crazy." He swiped my cheek lightly with his thumb and it was strangely healing. "I happen
to be very fond of crazy."

I laughed. Sean was being so patient with me and I enjoyed it tremendously. If it was a year ago he
would probably ask me to give him a call after I got over it.

"Anyway." He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed me against the wall. "I'm grateful that you
love me. You won't be sorry for it." He held my gaze and he was so sexy and so sincere, I really just
wanted to carve whatever he said on my arm. He gave me a dark alley kiss, which was right up there on
my list of most-desired kisses along with locker kiss and kiss in the pouring rain. Every time he kissed me
I was still surprised at how magical it felt. It stopped time and took me to places, and that was the only
theory of relativity I would ever know.

"I really, really love you," I said.

"I really love you too, and falling in love with me will be the best crazy thing you ever do," he said. "And
it won't land you in jail. I think."

I laughed. He slid his hand down my arms and folded his fingers around mine, leading me away so we
could take a short walk. The night was peaceful, the sky was dark, adorned with scattered stars. Sean's
confidence about us was infectious. I had managed to find a great guy, and my anxiety and doubts
dimmed like the city lights.

We walked back to his car holding hands. I guess walking and talking really isn't that bad, as long as you
find the right person to do it with. He pulled to a stop in front of my building, not hesitating for a second
about making that U-turn he was so reluctant about before we got together, and he gazed at me
longingly before I left him.

"See you at school tomorrow," he said gently after I kissed him. It was such a simple but fascinating
sentence, because I knew we never had to say goodbye again. It was just an intermission, and tomorrow
I got to see him and smile at him and text him and touch him when no one was looking.

That was the perfect ending to a date, and it wasn't even an ending.

It was a beginning.

=================

Part 5 ◎ Chapter 48 The yearbook

Sean

Janet was sitting by herself on the lawn when I got to school on Monday. She had a pair of full-size
headphones around her head, which she believed was the only way to go. She liked to feed herself on
enough rock and roll to last her through the day. Instead of joining the rest of the girls for giant lattes,
this was her idea of breakfast.

I saw her drumming her fingers on the grass and plopped myself down next to her.

She pulled down her headphones and handed it over to me. "Check out this awesome new band I just
discovered. They're called Previous Search."

It had an infectious beat and was moody and sensual. I listened until the song had ended.

"Very dark and sultry, right?" Janet asked. "It's like getting stoned before first period. Not that you'd
know what that feels like."

"Trust me, I know." I was dating Flora, after all. I didn't even see her yet but I felt lightheaded already.
She was the first thought that came to my head this morning when I opened my eyes and had stayed
there ever since.

"Do you like the song?" Janet took back the headphones.

"Absolutely."

"Great! I know the bassist, and I'm invited to see them perform next Friday. It's at a warehouse all the
way over in the industrial area, which is very cool. Wanna come?"

I was her go-to guy whenever Brian was busy at university. A week ago I would have agreed right away,
but now I hesitated.

"Don't worry, it's completely legal," Janet said.

"I'll ask Flora if she's up for it," I said, even though I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't her cup of tea.

Janet

only paused for one second before the realization clicked into place on her face. I knew that with a silent
understanding, she would stop asking me to hang out with her since I was back in a relationship. She
never complained about it because she knew how I always set rules for myself, even though Janet really
was just Janet to me.

"Of course, ask Flora to come!" she said. "I'll ask Nicholas too. This is totally Nick's kind of thing."

"Sure." I could feel the undercurrent of the changed dynamics. We were once Sean, Flora, and Janet, but
now we had shifted into the couple and the friend. The friend who didn't want to get stuck being the
third wheel, to be exact.

"Didn't I predict you guys will get back together?" she said. "I saw everything through my crystal ball. I
just knew you're both pining for each other."

"Yeah, you're right about everything. As usual."

"I heard about the Raymond incident." She shook her head. "I don't need to point out the obvious. If you
had confided in me, at all, at any point during junior year, then-"

I groaned. "I get it. J. I brought this on myself. In the future I'll report everything to you first hand."

"Unless Flora beats you to it. I've already heard about all the fights you had during the weekend,
including her guy friends issue and how you don't appreciate good wine, and I was forced to take sides
on everything."

"Do you want to subscribe to our newsletter? It's called Flora and Sean's fightlog and you'll get updates
every time we fight," I joked.

"No thanks, I have limited space on my Gmail."

I was surprised

that the greatest weekend of my life was just a series of arguments in Flora's opinion. I didn't even think
the issues were that important, not to mention they were resolved already. It was definitely nothing
worth telling our friends about. "Of all the things that took place, she told you about us fighting?"

"No, but it's the only thing I feel like repeating. The rest is just...nauseating." She held a hand in front of
her throat and pretended to gag. "I keep having to remind myself that she's dating you instead of some
god from Greek mythology. I swear that girl is completely possessed."

I felt instantly flattered and embarrassed, the way Flora always did to me.

Janet smiled. "It's pretty cute, to be honest."

"Yeah. I just...I can't believe I can have her back."

She patted me on the shoulder. "I know Flora is one step away from tattooing your name on her
forehead, and it's great to see you're taking it serious too."

"J, I'm so in love with her," I blurted.

Janet stared at me in stunned silence. I told Janet about all my girlfriends, but it was mostly vague
descriptions along the lines of it's going okay. It wasn't like me to make such a declaration. My words
surprised myself even, and after hearing it out loud, stark in the air between us, I regretted it. I waited to
hear Janet tease me about it as her face broke into an ear to ear grin.

"I'm so happy for you. For both of you," she said. "I mean, obviously I've heard from Flora already that
you exchanged your true love vows, but it's different coming from you."

"Flora took away the suspense

of everything," I muttered. Janet couldn't fake that smile of genuine approval even if she wanted to. She
really was the best friend I could ever hope for. She always wished the best for me, even though I pretty
much ignored her every time I was in a relationship.

"You guys are my favorite couple. Good luck," she said. "Let me know if you need my advice on
anything. Picking out a baby name, for example."
"We have got that covered. Flora will just name it Prada."

She laughed. "If you hurry you can catch Prada's mom before class."

***

Flora was sitting outside with Sandra and Carmen in her usual spot. On seeing her I felt the worst of the
withdrawal symptoms: anxiety, palpitation and tightness in the chest. It was like I had tunnel vision. She
was in the center and everything else defocused.

"Well, well, if it isn't the boy who made the same mistake twice," Sandra started as I approached them.
Sandra was nice enough to me when we were just friends as basketball player and head cheerleader,
but as soon as I became Flora's boyfriend I got this special treatment of her nastiness, which I accepted
with pride. She was usually too busy ignoring people to bother making an insult, and I considered it a
privilege knowing she made an effort on me.

"Sandy, not even your negativity is going to drag me down today," Flora said, but her eyes were on me
and she was smiling.

I said my good mornings.

"Congrats, Sean," Carmen said, always the pleasant one to balance out Sandra's foul energy. "It's great
you guys worked things out."

"Congrats yourself, Carmen." Sandra

eyed her with an evil stare. "You just earned yourself the chance of giving another round of therapy
sessions when they break up."

"Sandy, stop harassing us," Flora said. "Don't you need to go eat some small children or something?"

"Small children are hardly vegan," Sandra said but chuckled anyway, like an afterthought. "I meant to
say congratulations too. Somehow it came out wrong because I'm a bit allergic to happy people."

"Thanks." I was too happy to come up with a halfway intelligent comeback.

Flora reached out her arms to me so I could pull her up, and as she stood up, she linked her arm through
mine. She waved goodbye to her friends. "Excuse us. We need to go and be happy now."

When she pulled me over to the side of the building to kiss me, I didn't protest. We had become the sort
of annoying couple who kissed in semi-public, the kind that always made me cringe, but I thought I was
entitled at least a three-day-period of being annoying, considering how hard it was to get to where we
were now.

It was not easy to pull apart but we managed reluctantly. Had to keep telling myself she was just going
to class instead of war. I walked her to hers although I knew I would be late to mine. "Did you sleep okay
last night? After you recounted every detail of the last 48 hours to your friends."

She smirked. "I didn't share every detail. Just the parts where you had your clothes on."

"That's about five minutes in total," I said and got a beautiful smile out of her.
"I'll see you at lunch."

The bell rang. She left a whiff of her jasmine perfume

on my sleeve.

***

All through the morning I could only think about lunch. My life was cut up in fragments and I wondered
if that was how being in jail would feel like, where chunks of time in between didn't matter anymore.
My life was to be transformed into a repeating wheel of getting up, catching her before class, blur, then
lunch, then history class where I could stare at her chocolate-colored head from three rows behind, then
blur, class over, and we would spend every last drop of time together. It felt like a dream and the line of
reality had blurred into a field of jasmine.

"You're extremely excited about reaction kinetics," Nicholas commented during AP Chemistry. He knew
why I was restless and it seemed like everyone else knew. In history class Flora and I texted each other
until my cell phone almost ran out of battery. I loved talking to her in person, but texting was another
form of fun.

Dear King, it's very hard to concentrate with you radiating heat from three rows behind. I want to serve
you in your chamber.

Dear chambermaid, we're on page 213. Stop fantasizing about my hotness.

Flora turned around and winked at me, and all the words from page 213 melted away.

***

"I'm surprised at how completely not surprised I am that you and Flora got back together," Dylan started
at lunch on Tuesday. Flora had not entered the cafeteria yet.

"Yeah, what is it about Flora that keeps you crawling back for more?" Jake seconded.

"You never told us about the little tricks she does," Dylan said, giving me that obscene look he always

wore when it came to sex. They went on to talk about everything they enjoyed about it, and when Dylan
graciously shared with us his recent epiphany, that the best sex was the kind you had to shower before
and after for, I decided to tell them.

"Okay, here goes." I leaned forward, and they both looked at me in anticipation as if they really
expected me to share any private details. "Flora's little trick is that she is Flora."

Jake made a show of pulling his tray away from me. "Is your lameness contagious? I'm afraid if I catch it,
I'll never get laid again."

I laughed. At that moment Flora slid in next to me, running her hand along my shoulder blades. "What
are you guys talking about?"

"I'm telling him he can do better than you," Jake said with a grin. "I'm sick of all your friends. I was
hoping Sean could bring in some new mix to this group, but we're stuck with you again."
"You haven't met her friends Jess and Sarah from St. Margaret's," I said. They seemed really perfect for
Jake. They could probably set some barns on fire together.

"Jess wouldn't happen to be Chinese and has a tattoo on her hipbone, right?" Jake asked after a pause.

Flora and I exchanged a look, and Jake pulled out his phone. "Let's see...J...Jade...Jennifer...Jessica." He
pretended to be scrolling through an index card until he found the picture he wanted. He showed it to
us and it was of him and Jessica with their heads pressed close together, and the flash was on. He
winked. "Linda's party really was awesome."

"Damn she's hot!" Dylan said, and I suspected I caught a hint of wistfulness.

He was constantly thinking of cheating on Sydney but I doubt he'd ever really go through with it, again,
considering the risks that followed.

Flora pressed her lips together. "You were supposed to be the bouncer," she said to Jake. "Not hitting on
our party guests. I have to warn her about you."

"Oh, she knows," Jake replied. As a certified hook up artist, he was always straight about what he could
and couldn't offer. "She hinted she didn't want me to get too attached, and when she learned about
who I am, she seemed pleased with the finding."

"Jess is a free spirit." Flora took a sip from my apple juice. "I'm surprised you have time to get your
hands on so many girls, though. It's like you're...all over the place."

Jake grinned. "Yeah, that's what Jess said last night too."

Flora threw the fries on my tray at him. "Don't take advantage of her. She's saying she doesn't want to
commit, but you never know."

"Are you implying that she can't make her own decisions? Why do you assume your friend will get
hurt?" Jake smiled. "And if anyone's being taken advantage of, it's me. After all, I'm the one who'll be
doing all the work."

Flora shook her head. "Jake, I can't deal with you until I've had a couple of drinks."

"Jess is pretty cool, to be honest," Jake said. He told us about them hanging out over the weekend at the
carnival, and because he was funny, we all laughed at the right moments as if on cue. Flora had no
trouble fitting in at our table.

They would never admit it, but I knew my friends were happy for me. My girlfriend was so easy to talk

to. She thought I didn't appreciate that about her but the truth was I really did.

"Are you coming to my place Saturday night for the game?" Dylan said to me. "It's against Miami Heat."
He didn't need to say it because I knew, of course. We always watched the more important games
together.

"Saturday?" Flora answered for me. "Saturday is fine. We're free."

"I didn't invite you," Dylan said. "Nothing personal, but I don't want a girl's idiotic opinions on which
player is the cutest."
"I assume you're watching the live broadcast?" Flora said calmly. We nodded, and she shrugged. "Then I
guess you're not interested in free tickets."

I arched my eyebrows. "You have tickets to the game?"

"No big deal, these are only the best seats. You know, those limited ones with the best view." Flora
brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "My dad has this client and...anyway, I'm going to sell the
tickets online, since I just found out watching live broadcast from TV is the cool way to do it."

"Take me! Please!" I put my hand over hers. "I'm not friends with these people." I knew Flora must have
more than two tickets, however. It wasn't like her to flaunt unless she wanted to share.

"How many tickets do you have?" Jake asked.

"It depends," Flora said. "On how nice you are to me for the next five minutes."

I watched with amusement as my friends took turns sucking up to her, and she graciously agreed on
taking them along. I didn't know how it was even possible but being Flora's boyfriend just kept getting
better.

"I'll beat you if you ever break

up with her." Dylan pointed a finger at me to show his loyalty to Flora the ticket holder.

Jake nodded and put a hand over his mouth to whisper loudly, just so she could hear and laugh. "Break
up with her after the game."

***

My Flora-themed life unfolded before me with bliss. She was the center of it, and I tried fitting
everything else in between. The basketball season had started and I played a lot, and we sometimes had
to travel to different cities. Flora took her responsibility as socialite when I was away, and when I came
back she spent all her time on me. She was undoubtedly more committed this time. Despite what I said
about agreeing to go to parties and trying out new things, there really wasn't that much time and the
only new things we managed to try were in the bedroom.

I understood her better than in junior year. After we got back together, her parents weren't home for a
week. I tried imagining what that felt like to her, going back to an elegant apartment with the doorman
and the elevator, an enormous living room with the grand coffee table where the sofa was always
empty, the most equipped kitchen where only water was boiled, and a dining table with a centerpiece,
big enough to fit twenty people but no one ever ate there.

She told me on our first date at The Pavement that she wasn't a stay-at-home girl and she didn't take
loneliness well. I started to understand why she had so many dinner dates and guy friends, because she
didn't want to eat alone.

Before going out with Flora I never really thought of how my family was always there. I always took

them for granted, I mean, there was Linda who spoke Whinese, and even though my parents were
alright in terms of parents, I was never especially excited about the concept of chatting with them.
But what if they weren't around? I was so used to coming home to my mom's home-cooked meals and
everyone sitting down together, I'd come to expect that it was the norm, so no wonder for Flora her life
was a big blank space after cheerleading practices and she needed exits for her excessive energy.

I started to take Flora home for dinner and everyone welcomed her. She would bring us her house
collection of expensive wine and my parents were far more appreciative of it than me, and sometimes
she gave my mom flowers and I could tell my parents really warmed up to her. She was much more
considerate than Linda and a lot more expressive compared to me, and safe to say if she was offered to
them as a daughter, Linda and I would be chucked out in no time. Flora always offered to clean up and I
would let her take the credit, even though as soon as my parents left she would just sit on the counter
and dangle her toned legs. Now that she was my girlfriend she didn't pretend to want to help me dry the
dishes, which was okay because she still flirted with me shamelessly and I could only hope my parents
never had to hear of the things she said to me.

After dinner we would retreat to my room and try to be as quiet as possible. I think my parents had a
pretty good idea of what was going on in there, but they were very cool about it, and I had never felt as
grateful towards them in all previous seventeen

years of my life added together. Sometimes I would drive her back to her place where we could really
blow off some steam. The routineness of it was delightful and not even Flora could deny it. We were
irrefutably sex-crazed and infatuated with each other, executing our profound love in the most
superficial way possible.

"You're a liar," Flora said one day as she sat on my bed going through my middle school yearbook.

"Huh?"

She beamed. "You said you weren't good-looking in middle school but you were a total babe. You were
the cutest middle schooler I've ever seen."

"Turn down your psycho a little, Flora," I said. "I'm starting to question your taste."

"It's true! I can't say the same about Janet and Dylan, though," she said. "They were such a disaster. I'm
glad Dylan took care of his acne problems. Janet looked...what's with the overalls?"

"Well, you weren't there to give everyone makeovers."

She smiled, then it shrunken. She turned her hazel eyes to me. "Hey...where's Martin?"

I sat down next to her and started flipping through the yearbook. Middle school really hosted some of
the worse memories. I pointed to his picture. "That's him."

"Hmm." All I got was a noncommittal hmm. Flora snapped shut my yearbook and started playing with
her phone, a sight I had gotten quite used to already. The subject of my old memory wasn't interesting
enough to intrigue her for too long. She had started scrolling through whatever app she was using,
sliding up and down with her index finger. After a while she held it up to me triumphantly. "Aha! Is that
him?"

She
had managed to track Martin down on Facebook despite the fact that he was using a username that
didn't suggest his identity.

"How did you do it?"

"I forgot to tell you about this hidden talent I have," Flora bragged. "Cyber-stalking. You won't believe
how many photos I have of you even though you don't use any social network."

Martin looked like he had a much better time now. There were colorful photos of him laughing, a sight I
wasn't sure I had seen before. I knew photos lie but back then I didn't think he'd have materials to use
even if he wanted to lie.

"Look, he is on the track team, and he is in a relationship!" Flora said. She sat up and her eyes blazed.
"Let's message him."

"No! I don't know what to say."

"I'll say it for you, then. You don't mind, do you?" She had started typing before waiting for my answer.
"Look, he's online! I'll just tell him I'm Sean and I'm borrowing a friend's account to talk to him."

"I'm really not sure--"

"Hi there Martin! This is Sean Foster from Riverside Middle school," Flora started reading out loud as she
typed. Talking to a stranger seemed amazingly easy for her. She told him how I was scared to face what I
did and how I constantly thought of that day and wished to apologize. She sounded too chirpy to be me
talking, but she managed to get the message across. "How's that?"

"That's...fine, I guess." My scalp prickled. It was daunting being forced to come face to face with my
past, completely unprepared.

"No matter what he says, at least you got out your part," Flora said. She waited twenty seconds for

him to message back, the same amount of patience she had when it came to a stop signal. When he
didn't, she decided that it was enough. "In the meantime, we can make out."

She threw her phone on my nightstand and turned to pounce on me. I closed my eyes and felt her biting
lightly on my bottom lip, and I tried to get as into it as I could, but half of me was thinking about Martin
and that really killed it. My unresponsiveness didn't seem to bother her, but when her phone vibrated
she broke free immediately, like I was a TV commercial break and that Downton Abbey was back on.

"He wrote back!" Her eyes darted as she scanned her phone. Sometimes she reminded me of a
chipmunk on coke. The chipmunk gasped. "Oh no, Sean. Maybe you shouldn't read this."

"Why? What did he say?" I reached over, trying to grab her phone from her.

"This isn't good." She tsked.

My stomach clenched. He didn't forgive me, of course. I waited too long.

Flora's face broke into a smile. "You're so cute when you're nervous. I was just messing with you."

"Flora! This is important to me!"

"I know." A soft light took over her eyes, and a warm and compelling aura surrounded her. "He said he
never blamed you and you shouldn't blame yourself either. He wanted to thank you. You were the best
person in the whole school and it was an honor to know you. An honor, darling." She patted my chest.

"Really?"

"Here, read it." She thrust the phone in my hand.

As I went through the message, I became lighter line by line. At the same time I felt heavier, like I was
infused with something. I was touched and relieved.

I didn't even know I was holding my breath until I let it out.

"Thanks, baby," I tried to keep my tone neutral.

"Why are you thanking me?" Flora took the phone back and started chatting up Martin again. She
chuckled from time to time. "Sean, this Martin is actually pretty funny. And there're some really cool
photos. He and his girlfriend are so adorable!"

I had the feeling that Flora didn't get excited about every cute couple that wore matching animal hats,
but she was now going through Martin's photo album and binge-liking everything. She was excited and
relieved for me.

"Did you know he's an Avengers fan too?" she asked.

"I don't really know anything about him. He only talked about being bullied and I helped him out."

"Hmm." She chewed on her lips. "Maybe he wasn't whining to get you to stand up for him, you know.
It's probably just to start a conversation. You're really intimidating to talk to, even to someone like me."

"What? I'm not intimidating!"

"You are when you don't smile, and you're so cool you make people self-conscious. I bet Martin just
wanted to talk to you." She hugged her knees. "You know what, baby? Maybe he didn't need a savior.
He just needed a friend."

I looked at Flora who was making amends for me, and realized she really didn't get enough credit for the
incredible person she was. She hid behind this façade of a superficial and happy-go-lucky cheerleader,
but she was the wisest and kindest person I ever knew. She was beautiful inside and out.

"You're right," I said. "He probably just needed a friend."

"Yeah. It's too much responsibility to save people all the time. But being a friend is much easier."

She had a really good heart, even though she didn't make a big deal out of it. I used to think she was
insincere, but now I saw she just liked to keep things on a lighter note. She understood me and she
cared.

After this brief moment of seriousness, Flora bounced right back to Flora mode. "Hey, you wanna double
date him and his girlfriend?" She tossed her head back and laughed, showing all her pearly teeth. When
she laughed I honestly thought she was the most stunning person ever and I fell in love with her all over
again.
"You're great," I said. "I love you."

"I love you too." The edge of her eyes crinkled up. "Can we have sex now?"

=================

Chapter 49 The nail polish

Flora

Sean Sean Sean Sean Sean Sean.

This was what went through my head every morning upon waking up. I wished I could wear him like the
embroidery on my shirt collar or attach him to my hair like a bobby pin, so that he was with me at all
times.

The first time we were together, we gave each other space. This time we neither needed it nor wanted
it.

Sean had been ticking off all the boxes in good boyfriend material checklist. If it was a job, he would've
been promoted to the top already. The only complaint I used to have was that he was too reserved
about his feelings, but once he uttered the L word, nothing held him back. I could feel his love for me
rapidly sprouting, and it was like snapping a fiber in a pair of pantyhose. You know how pantyhoses are.
They are relatively sturdy to start with, but once they're torn, the rips grow and the holes expand until it
becomes impossible to mend them.

I did a bit of self-evaluation and decided that I needed more practice in becoming a better girlfriend. I
knew I loved him but it only made me insane and needy, and the weird part was the more I was with
him the more I wanted him. Despite all the good in Sean, he was like a really bad habit that kept me
demanding for more, like drugs. After the initial high wears off, next time the dose needs to be doubled.

An obsession was beginning to form. It was still vague now, but given enough time, water can cut
through a rock and, as Sean said, mineral drips can build into a stalactite.

Sandra was the one who pointed it out first. We were hanging out one late afternoon

when she piped up.

"Let's play a game," she said. "The person who mentions the name Sean first loses and has to buy
everyone caramel macchiatos."

Carmen and Janet didn't comment, but they had this look on their faces that said, finally someone spoke
up.

"I don't talk about him that much." I pouted. "Besides, I've been buying everyone drinks for the past
three years."

"You talk about him more than a religious fanatic talks about God," Sandra said, and as if thinking that
wasn't harsh enough, she added, "You're starting to get on my nerves."
I shut up but I fumed inside. What were best friends for if they couldn't be there when I felt the need to
gush? Fine, lately this need was consuming me as a whole, but I had been very supportive whenever my
friends talked about their significant others (or in Carmen's case, the lack thereof).

I sat in my room one night going through my shoe collection as Sandra's words attacked again. Now that
I took a moment to consider it, perhaps they hadn't been gushing nonstop like I did. Then again, that's
the rule of life. Less coverage time was warranted for less fabulous boyfriends.

Sean was gone for a basketball game after successfully peeling himself away from me, and as
cheerleaders we only attended the home games. It was a week night, and as usual most of my girlfriends
weren't allowed to stay out late. When a situation like this arose I usually called up someone like
Raymond, who was as free as a cheetah in the savannah since his parents didn't care about his
whereabouts.

But that was before Sean,

of course.

I rearranged my closet and tried on a few items. Posted a new entry in my style blog. Learned a few new
tricks about styling my hair off YouTube and did a braid crown that made me look like a medieval bride,
then I loosen it and redid a side fishtail braid.

Better.

The phone rang just when I was about to shrivel up and die with boredom.

"Whatcha doin'?" Raymond sang into the phone.

"Braiding my hair and waiting for Sean."

He made an unattractive sound at the back of his throat which I deciphered as disapproval. "Let's hang
out."

"I can't, Ray. I'm in a relationship, as you know."

He paused for a second before he spoke again, as if trying to process the information. "Yeah, I know.
So?"

"Well, part of the deal of being in a relationship is that I can't hang out with whoever I wish," I said. Did
it sound as absurd to him as to me? "What I mean is, I want to stay here and wait for Sean."

"How about tomorrow? I got hold of some real good stuff I wanna share with you."

By stuff he meant pot. I was tempted for a very brief second but I turned him down like the good girl I
was. He suggested a few other time slots and finally came to the realization that when I said I can't, I
meant I can't, ever.

"So, what, are you saying I can never hang out with you again?"

Was that disappointment tinged with hurt I detected? I felt bad. "Well, we can, but not like this. We can
invite a few more people and meet at the mall."
"The mall?" He sounded horrified, as if the mall was a synonym of youth detention center.

"A few more people? But I hate everybody."

I laughed. He was hilarious even when he was being serious.

He took a long time before answering. When he spoke again it was with the same resolution as a
Protestant Christian who decided to convert to Eastern Orthodox. "I can invite Sean, if you want. I guess
I can tolerate your boyfriend if that's what it takes."

Wow, he really wanted my company. To Raymond sharing pot was like amputating a limb unless he
sincerely adored you, which didn't happen that often.

"That's nice of you to offer, but Sean can't smoke pot with us," I said. "It'll damage his valuable brain
cells. Not all brain cells are created equal, as you know."

"If he's as smart as you implied, he should have a lot to spare," he said dryly.

"Actually Sean says being smart has more to do with the folds and grooves in the brain than the amount
of brain cells," the words shot off my mouth before I could stop myself.

Raymond made his disgruntled sound again. "Flora, I get it you worship Sean like a cult, but you're really
starting to annoy me with the way you keep quoting him."

Gosh he sounded like Sandra. I could hardly deal with one in my life, let alone two. I decided to tell him
about the reason Sean and I broke up, just so he didn't feel like I was blowing him off for no reason.

He was shocked to hear it, to say the least. "What? I didn't hit on you!"

"You tried and he saw it, and now you're on the black list."

"B-But how's that even possible? I don't like you like that!" He even sounded a little offended, like

I was insulting his taste.

"I'm telling you, it happened. There's a very valid reason why Sean doesn't want to hang out with you,
and like seriously, can you blame him?"

I didn't expect it but he apologized. I told him I never even blamed him for it. "I can apologize to Sean,
too," he said. "I really feel bad about the whole thing."

"No! He doesn't want me to tell you. You have to pretend you know nothing." Sean and his ego didn't
want to allow Raymond the satisfaction of knowing he had the power to come between us.

"But I don't want him to hate me," Raymond said. It was amazing how he had no trouble hating
everyone, but the idea of anyone-even someone who didn't matter much to him like Sean-not breaking
out instantly in a happy dance when they thought of him was unbearable. He had this unexplainable
urge to stay on everyone's good side.

I told him to forget it, and now Raymond was really fretting. "Well, I can't apologize to him, I can't invite
him to hang out, so what does that leave us? Does that mean I can never see you again?"

Oh God. I was never in a relationship with Raymond, but now we were breaking up.
"We can say hi to each other at school, and I'll like every Facebook post you make." I tried to lighten the
mood. "That's what friends are for anyway. To make you feel popular on social media."

He exhaled. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna hang up now. I need to go sit by my laptop to check if
you liked any of my posts."

"Come on, you don't need to do that." I decided to make one last attempt of a lame joke. "You can
check with your

phone."

He grunted again and hung up. I let out a long breath, feeling extremely exhausted. I didn't even have
enough energy to put back all the shoes I'd taken out of their boxes, so I left them in a pile on the floor. I
almost tripped over my Roger Vivier in my haste to get to the doorbell when it rang.

Sean stood before me in a dark green hoodie and his backpack slung over one shoulder. It was like
throwing open the door to a cathedral, where the organs were played and the Angels sang. I swore
there was this halo surrounding him and fine, I worshiped him. So what?

It happens. People needed to accept that.

"Baby." He smiled.

"You look hot," I said. I always came up with shallow things to say about him even though he was much
more than that. Deep down I knew I had hit jackpot finding him, like digging up a piece of giant Italian
white Alba truffle thinking it was just some ordinary mushroom, but whenever I saw him my tongue tied
up like a Bottega Veneta intrecciato weave. Luckily Sean had grown accustomed to my vanity, and
whenever I tossed these compliments his way he actually looked pretty pleased.

He reached out a hand to tug on my fishtail braid playfully. "So do you."

I moved aside slightly to let him in, and he bent down to kiss me. His lips were soft but the kiss was firm,
and waiting for him had been totally worth it. He tasted like chocolates.

"Did you put the cookies in my backpack?" he asked.

"Yeah. In case you got hungry during the game."

He pinched my cheek and headed towards my bedroom. "You're so sweet. I

finished half of it before the game even started."

I followed him, and he told me they won. Jake did, to be exact. He was just there to share because he
didn't play very well. I assured him he was just being modest, although I knew Sean's games were off
lately.

"What have you been doing?" he asked.

"Um, Raymond called. Do you want to smoke pot with him?"

"What?"

"I'd really like it if you guys can get to know each other better," I said.
He cringed. "I don't know what turns me off more, pot or Raymond."

"I told him I can't hang out with him one-on-one anymore because I have a boyfriend," I said. "He wasn't
very happy about it, and I feel like an awful friend."

"I don't hang out with Janet one-on-one anymore either, but she never gives me attitude for it. She just
gets it that some things change once we got together. If he's a real friend he should just be happy for
you too."

But things didn't have to change, did they? This was such a stupid system we had here. I didn't care at all
that Sean had Janet, but he was giving that up just so he could be fair to me. "I don't know. I think I hurt
his feelings."

"Well his feelings are too easily hurt." Sean's tone was neutral, but I could tell he was really not liking
the conversation. I didn't want to risk getting into a fight with him over Raymond when I had been
waiting for him the whole night. I shut up and snaked my hands up his shirt, where the skin was smooth
and warm.

He sighed, a happy one.

Moments later all thoughts on Raymond were out of the window and buried under the snow.

In summer Sean's skin was tanned like honey, but right now it was the color of the inside of a roasted
almond. He didn't roll away when we were done, instead he pulled me closer and planted a soft kiss on
my bare shoulder. That was a especially nice touch, like getting a good quote from the fortune cookie at
the end of a delightful Chinese meal. Unlike the kisses during, which were oozing with passionate lust,
the peck at the end was full of warm affection.

He said the nicest things to me when we cuddled, and coming from him it was doubly heart-warming.
He was really trying to make up for all my missing dates. I couldn't really decide if I preferred the sex or
the talk afterwards. Lying next to him always made me feel excited but calmed simultaneously.

He stroked my hair softly and listened to me ramble on about everything that didn't interest him such as
fashion and the mean things Sandra said. Maybe he just enjoyed hearing my voice.

I really liked him in my bed, but I say that in a non-sexual way. I liked the way the mattress sank slightly
with his weight when he climbed in to join me, the subtle scent of his aftershave, and how comfortable
he was being with me. While he still carried that regal air I was so attracted to, there was also an
adorable, lazy, casual side of him, added with just the right amount of innocence. It was like watching a
cub lion yawning and playfully chasing after a ball.

Some time later, as Sean absently folded the clothes on my bed, I brought over a bottle of burgundy nail
polish from my desk. "I bought this color by mistake. It's too dark on fingers, but works surprisingly well
on toes."

He glanced at it briefly.

"You want to help me paint my toes?" I was really half joking because I was sure he would refuse, but
when I handed the bottle over to him, he obliged.

"Are you sure you want to trust me with this?" He unscrewed the cap.
"You can try."

He bent over, and that cute concentration on his face was just overkill. He worked at it as if he was
designing a rocket, but the clumsiness gave him away.

"Uh oh," he said.

"I think you just built a crime scene," I teased.

"Maybe you should wipe it off."

I was going to get the nail polish remover, but then I looked at my toes again. They looked like they
belonged on a horror movie poster. I tilted my head and decided that I liked it, because Sean painted it
for me. I didn't think anyone else could have made him do it.

It deserved to be memorized, at least. I snapped a picture with Instagram despite his protest and added
the hashtag truelove. By the time he left I had collected 283 likes and 129 comments.

I usually didn't do this but I checked. Raymond wasn't one of them.

=================

Chapter 50 The German test

Sean

Flora often nagged me about staying the night when I drove her back to her place. I didn't have a rigid
curfew anymore since starting senior year, but I knew better than to push my luck. I would stay as long
as I could before I tucked her in, stroked her hair and said my difficult good-nights. All that was keeping
me from being a competent parent was a good book of nursery rhymes.

I knew what Flora really needed was her parents. Despite being the most fun, free, and popular person
in our school, she had a lonely side not known to others, and sometimes not even her 900 friends and I
could rescue her. She'd freak if she ever heard the word clingy on her, because she thought it was
reserved for insecure people who had no friends, and to be fair she wasn't clingy in the usual sense since
she wasn't attached to just one person, but it went without debate that she couldn't spend one moment
by herself. Flora always had to be doing something with someone. She was irrationally afraid of missing
out.

She argued that she went to her spa treatments alone when she spent the entire time gossiping with her
masseuse, and once it was over she immediately switched on her phone to check missed messages.

I was now responsible for all the blanks in her life, and while I loved her beyond words, it was
emotionally flattering but physically exhausting. In junior year I was infatuated with her, but at least I
had more self-control. This time it was impossible to say no. I wanted to work extra hard to make this
relationship worth her while.

Have you ever done

something that feels so good, that even though you know there should be an end, you just can't stop? I
don't mean dating Flora, but the way we were wearing each other down. We were like a meteor tearing
through the atmosphere, burning up and giving out sparks so dazzling, that while it was mesmerizing to
look at, it just wouldn't last.

I wanted us to be like the moon. There'd be brighter and dimmer days, but we'd be consistent and
perpetual, effortlessly reflecting light off the sun.

I had started nurturing the dark circles under my eyes which Flora found sexy. She teased they made my
eyes bluer. Homework only started after she slept, and espresso and condoms had become my life
supportive system. I just couldn't slow down the rate of consuming them.

We cut class more than once too, mostly during German because Mrs. Kinston was majorly gullible. How
many times could I fake being summoned by the principal? Many times and counting, it seemed.

"What's senior year for if not to sneak off campus?" Flora said, all reasonable, like she was making a
documentary on 'things I wish I knew before starting high school'.

"I thought that's what college is for," I protested as I gave in. We didn't even do anything important with
the stolen time other than grinning at each other stupidly. Senior year may not be about ditching
classes, but it was definitely about finding love and wasting time together.

I had been getting straight As since always, so I wasn't that fussy about grades, but late night studying
sessions mixed with caffeine, sex, being in love and basketball

season really took its toll, and it was inevitable that I would either float off the ground or drop dead,
whichever came first.

I didn't complain to Flora because it was what I wanted, to be with her, my dream girl, albeit a high-
maintenance one, and I thought I should just deal with it. I didn't see Janet at all anymore, and
whenever I hung out with the guys I brought Flora with me. It wasn't like they didn't enjoy talking to her
anyway. At first they were tolerant, but by the third time they started getting sarcastic.

"Yes! It's guys' night out and let's count on Sean to bring his girlfriend again," Dylan said.

Jake agreed. "I shall bring all three of my recent hits too so we have an awesome Eyes Wide Shut party."

Alan was just generally pissed because we were meeting at his house, and he couldn't figure out why he
still didn't have a Carmen in his life.

The real wake-up call came one night when I accompanied Flora to a Lanvin runway show. Her mom was
one of the VIP guests, and Flora gladly took her place. She was very agitated about a night out. The thing
took longer than expected and when we got back to her house it was already late, and I indistinctively
remembered there was something I needed to do. We made out for a while--that was the amazing part,
that no matter how tired I was as soon as we started the adrenaline rush kept me going-then I held her
hand while she snuggled under the covers. I sat on the edge of her bed watching her face.

"I love having you beside me," she said groggily. "You're so wonderful to me."

The sexy sleepiness in her voice

and the love on her face was exactly what kept me doing this. In bed she was innocent and sweet,
completely without makeup, and the feeling of being needed was overpowering.
"Good night, baby," I said, and she rested her face on my hand.

The next thing I knew was being jolted awake in the middle of the night due to the cold. It was three am
and I was freezing, my phone had died of power and every muscle in my body hurt. I scribbled a quick
"the king has left the building" on a post-it and stuck it on her headboard, then I rushed out. By the time
I got to my car I had a monster migraine and stars were whizzing by my eyes, and all the way home I
prayed about not getting into an accident.

I overslept the next day and only had time for a very quick shower. There was no room for breakfast and
no catching Flora before class, and when I sat down in AP chemistry at second period, that was when it
hit me. The thing I forgot to do.

Mr. Miles asked us to hand in our assignment after class, and I stared at my blank answer sheet in a
daze. This couldn't happen to me. I was the person whose homework people passed around in order to
check their answers. I never forgot to write it and it was always done impeccably.

Am I going to get detention? Detention was a word as foreign to me as Lanvin.

When Mr. Miles turned around to scribble formulas on the blackboard, I willed myself to pull it together.
I can do this, now, in class. Chemistry was one of my stronger subjects, although the words kept
dissolving before my eyes like salt in an under-saturated solution. I was literally

too tired to think and I cursed under my breath.

Nicholas silently laid his homework on my desk. I turned to him with bloodshot eyes. I thought I knew
what it meant but it didn't register at once.

"Don't worry, my answers are correct," he said quickly.

I nodded. "Thanks."

My back burned up with mortification. I couldn't believe I had to stoop to copying answers, but I had no
time for repentance. For the rest of the period I scribbled furiously and missed the whole lecture in front
of me.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked after the class was over. He was one of the rare friends in my life who didn't
speak fluent sarcasm, and I knew when he asked the question he really meant it instead of waiting to
ambush me with something mean.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, because that's what I always said, but then I shook my head and let out a long
breath. "No, not really."

"You seem tired. Basketball season is exhausting, right?"

"Yeah, but it's not that. Mostly it's Flora," I admitted. "I want to be with her all the time and it's blowing
my life out of proportion. I feel really out of control."

"Feeling out of control once in a while is not necessarily bad," he said, maybe because he never had a
girlfriend as far as I knew of, let alone one as demanding as Flora. "I think it's a phase and it'll pass, so
maybe just enjoy the moment?"
I wasn't entirely sure I was enjoying it. "I don't know."

"You only live once." He shrugged.

"I don't want a fling. I want this to work in the long run."

"Then maybe you have to gradually find a way to incorporate it into your life. You

can't push everything else out of the way, although to be honest I think it's amazing to feel so passionate
about something."

I rubbed my eyes. "Not really. It's more scary than amazing."

"Maybe someday you'll miss feeling overwhelmed," he said, sounding all philosophical. "By the way, if
you ever need my help again I don't mind."

"Thanks, Nick, but it won't happen again."

He lent his notes to me because he knew I didn't have a clue what the class was about, but he didn't say
anything about it. That's one of the reason I liked about him. We left the classroom and hurried off to
different directions.

The next shock came two days later when I got the result back from a German pop quiz. I'd always been
lousy at pronunciations and I struggled with my grammar in a dialogue, but written tests were easy and I
usually managed to ace it. When I saw my test the first instinct was that it wasn't mine.

I got a freaking 68. Sixty-eight! I didn't remember ever getting anything below 90, and I ran my eyes
around the classroom and rested on Carmen's table for reference. Maybe the test was harder than usual
and everyone failed miserably.

Nope, Carmen got a whooping 94.

I don't believe this.

As I shuffled on my feet to the next class I felt as if everyone on the hallway knew I blew my test. This
must be what the Scarlet Letter felt like on the chest of Hester Prynne when she was accused of
adultery. I had a giant 68 embroidered, scalding the front of my button-down shirt.

Flora wasn't very sympathetic about it.

"Wow, a sixty-eight! What a story

to tell to the grandkids, right?" she said on the way to cheerleading practice.

"Flora." I tried keeping the irritation out of my voice.

"It's okay. It's one test, and German isn't that useful anyway. I mean, everybody in Germany speaks
English, including Einstein." She tousled my hair. "You know how to forge your parent's signature,
right?"

"It's a pop quiz and I don't need to show it to them. That's hardly the point." Getting a lecture from my
parents was the last thing I worried about. "I think my grades are slipping."
"What? One pop quiz is not going to affect your GPA. I can't believe you're freaking out over one little
test."

"It's not the test per se. It's a warning sign. I forgot to write my chemistry homework too."

"Yes, but didn't Nicholas save you in time? Being his friend finally paid off." She smiled as an idea hit her.
"Maybe you can ask him to start typing his homework so he can directly print you a copy. Saves a lot of
time. You're too smart to waste time on it anyway."

Could she be more insensitive? "You don't understand. I'm not as smart as you think and I've had to
work very hard for my grades. This shows I have to start putting more effort on it."

We had reached the football field and I could see this topic bored her. "I have to go to practice now,"
she said. "You can blame me later."

That was exactly what I was afraid of. "Baby, I'm not blaming you. I just think we have to make some
changes. I'll talk to you after you're done, okay?" I had a game to go to myself and I was so weary I didn't
even have the energy to explain.

"Sure."

Her lips were set in a thin line and I could tell she was mad at me again.

"Can you go to practice now and get mad at me later?"

"Getting mad at you won't interfere with my practice. Unlike you I'm a pro at multitasking," she said in a
snooty tone. We stared at each other for a second before breaking into smiles at the same time.

"You're funny, Flora. And you look so hot in your cheerleading uniform, no one can argue with you and
win," I said. "I'll just admit defeat right now."

"Give me a second while I analyze if you're being sarcastic." She tried to keep the smile from curling up
her lips.

"I'm not. You are really hot, especially when you're angry." That sounds like something Flora would say.
Well, two can master this art.

She gave me a proper smile that washed away all my concern, like soft waves brushing off the drawings
in the sand. "I'm sorry about your test. Call me after your game?"

"Sure."

I watched her walk away, and I realized that being with Flora felt like a vacation. There was so much to
see and do, wonders at every corner, exotic food I never knew existed, adventures to seek out. I wanted
to fill every day to the brim with her like it was the last day of the trip, but the problem with a vacation
was that it eventually had to end and I had to start living.

For some reason, the thought excited me. I couldn't wait for the plane to land and the honeymoon to be
over, so that we could start making a real life together.

=================
Chapter 51 The warehouse

Flora

After Sean freaked out over his insignificant German test earlier, he came over to my apartment in the
evening. My parents were back from their business trip in Rio de Janeiro, but they were still in the office
downtown solving some kind of crisis. Usually Sean started kissing me as soon as I latched the front
door, but he brushed past me and headed straight to my room. He sat himself down on the floor and
delivered his grand opening, "I need to talk to you."

"You sound like a housewife who's mad that the husband forgot to take out the trash again."

"I'm crazy about you," he said, ignoring my comment. "I think you know that. But we can't go on like
this."

"Like what? Being in love with each other?" I didn't like the sound of it. He sounded like he was pulling
away and I hated the seriousness of him, like he was about to give me a lecture.

"You're acting defensive before I even say anything."

I heaved a long sigh. "Fine. Talk. I'm not going to interrupt until you finish." I felt like the man in the
relationship. I was impatient and insensitive, and I just wanted him to shut up fast so I could kiss him. Of
all the wonderful things he could do with his mouth, he chose to talk to me.

"Okay, I think we have to establish some rules," he started. "I'm tired all the time. I thought I can juggle
everything, but I found out I can't study and date you and go on my games at the same time, on top of
sleeping five hours everyday."

He's sacrificing me. School, sports, sleep, sex-that was his list of priorities, exactly in that order.
Obviously

I couldn't compare with the others, and I was going to be the first junk he threw out of this sinking ship. I
bit on my lower lip hard.

"Don't get me wrong. You're very important," he clarified as if he read my mind. "Too important. Ever
since I got you back I've been thinking about how to make this last, and that's why I can't burn out
myself too quickly." He smiled at me. "I want you in my life for as long as you're willing to stay."

How many people could resist Sean like that? My insides turned into mushy pink goo and I imagined
myself melting and sliding into a puddle on the floor. I nodded.

"I hope that's what you want too, you know, a steady long-term relationship," he said as if it was
something embarrassing to admit, then he added, "Because if you just want a winter fling, I'll start
undressing you right now and you can forget everything I just said."

I laughed. "I want to have a long-term relationship too," I said, my face heating up. Why did the concept
of getting serious make me shyer than getting naked? That I'd never know, but it stirred up a
lightheaded, delicious feeling in me like a glass of exquisite pink champagne.

He grinned and it turned his eyes into blue crescents. "Great. So we're on the same page." As the
crescents expanded back into full moons he got serious again. "Okay, first of all, I think we have to spend
less time together. I can't stay with you that late and we have to limit our phone conversations. I also
can't text you in class anymore because I'd just be waiting for you to text back. I really need to
concentrate."

My pink champagne

vaporized. Getting serious didn't seem like it offered any advantage, and wait, there was more to come.

"I can't take you to guy's night, and I want to hang out with Janet sometimes, because I've been
completely ignoring her. I mean, together with you, of course."

"I never said you can't hang out with Janet. You don't need me to chaperone," I said. That had always
been his issue and not mine.

"No, I want to be fair."

"How about you let me date Raymond, and I let you date Janet? That's fair." Why had I never thought of
this before? I was a genius. "Quid pro quo."

He narrowed his eyes. "No way. Janet doesn't pose any threat. Letting you date Raymond is like you
letting me date...Jess or Sarah."

I didn't trust either of them around him. Years of private girls' school training had made them both
famished and Sean was one piece of quality meat. "Fine. Let's do monogamy all the way. I'll ask for your
permission before I talk to my brothers."

"If you insist," he said.

"What else?"

"You can't get mad at me when we don't spend the whole weekend together. You know I have to do
brunches with my grandparents and go to my workouts. I haven't been to the gym for two weeks and
I'm afraid I'm losing them." He lifted his shirt and leaned back to show me his abs, which was every bit as
tempting as I remembered.

I bent down and kissed his stomach swiftly. "They're very much there, all six of them." To be fair, right
now I could only see faint lines, but I didn't hesitate to boost his ego as per usual.

He laughed. "I do this part for your sake, you know. You're

very, very superficial."

"I'm superficial and proud of it." I raised my chin. "Is that it? No rules on setting the alarm clock for sex
or abstinence before a big game?"

He shook his head. "No. Our sex life can not be sacrificed. That's it."

"Is this the part where we slash our palms and make a blood oath?" I said dryly.

He tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Well, I was aiming for written consent, but if you want to be
so hardcore..."
"I never know in order to date the most eligible bachelor in school, a prenup needs to be drawn up." I
pointed a warning finger at him. "You're not getting half of my shoes when we break up."

"I don't want your shoes. I want you." His eyes sparkled with warm glow, like a heated pool on a sunny
day. "Thank you for being such a good sport and going along with me."

"I know you have a lot of issues. It's okay. You're good-looking, so you're allowed to be difficult."

Sean was a pretty good negotiator and didn't say anything to directly tick me off. He started by saying he
wanted to get serious and ended with I want you, which pretty much just made me choke back
whatever argument I could muster up.

I was, however, secretly upset that he sprung the Declaration of Independence on me. The past two
weeks my life had been fabulous. If my life were a movie, it would be those montages where video clips
of us loving each other would overlap, with incredibly emotional music in the background and at some
point we'd be singing into random objects because we were just too happy. If it were a particularly

cliché movie, a line might even split down the middle of the screen to show us both on the phone and
later fell asleep with matching lovesick grins on our faces.

I didn't expect the sappy period to expire so quickly. Back when we were flirting with each other, it was
like standing outside my favorite bakery, sniffling the sweet air and lusting after the cute cupcakes in the
display window. Now that I was finally inside the shop and gorging my way through, Sean was telling me
he didn't want to spoil his appetite?

I understood where he was coming from, just like I understood when people said they needed to watch
their blood sugar and live to a hundred years old, but what was the fun in that? What happened to living
every day to the fullest like it was the last day? Getting serious turned out to be a drag. Maybe I
should've picked winter fling and see where that took me.

He stood up and climbed on top of my bed. "Can I sleep for a while? I'm really exhausted."

"Of course. I'll just tweeze my eyebrows over here." I pointed to my dressing table. I was in no mood to
kiss him anymore.

"No...Can you come over here? I want you beside me."

I went over and lay down next to him. He placed his head against my shoulder and positioned my arms
around his body so I was holding him. I rested my chin against his head.

"I don't know what I'll do without you," he said. His voice was soft, falling sweetly like rose petals. "I feel
better just seeing you. You don't even need to say anything."

I ran my fingers gently through his hair. I didn't speak because I knew I'd

ruin it.

"Baby, I think I really need you," he murmured. He was asleep in my arms in minutes, and I liked how he
grew heavier as his body relaxed. Underneath Sean's cool exterior he was as innocent as Bambi.

That was when I knew. The advantage of getting serious with him.
I got to see this boyish, unguarded side of him, and it was better than anything I ever imagined.

***

"Is that what you're wearing?" Sean gaped at my pink Valentino dress and Rockstud pumps, but unlike
what I hoped for, he looked more shocked than impressed.

He had come to pick me up for a concert. Janet and Nicholas would meet us there, because Sean
insisted that if I wasn't there to stop him, he and Janet would elope and ride off into the sunset
together. Not in these words, of course, but because his anti-one-on-one rule was so ridiculous, that
was exactly how it felt like.

"Don't you like it?" I pouted. I twirled around and allowed him a full 360-degree view.

"I like it, but we're going to a warehouse."

"I went to a Marc Jacobs runway show once and it's also set in a warehouse. The idea of all that glamour
in a shabby place is so awesome. I loved the contrast!"

"I don't think it's going to be as glamorous as you imagined," he said with amusement in his eyes. "Your
dress looks so expensive. It might get dirty."

I knew we weren't going to a Maroon 5 concert, but at least it was some new rising star at a cool
underground venue. Sean made it sound like we were going to clean up the elephant's cage at a zoo. "I
want to look nice. Do you know we haven't dated anywhere

outside the bedroom for like, forever?"

He smiled. "You can wear this in the bedroom too."

"No, thanks. I want the dress to stay on for more than ten minutes."

He smiled again and kissed me. "You look great. It's a very pretty dress."

His fingers slipped down my back and toyed with the hem of my skirt, pushing against the back of my
thighs. I laughed and swatted his hands away. We left in his car, the air sizzling with my barely contained
excitement. Staying with Sean at home was wonderful, but a night out was just what I needed.

All my joy dissipated like the bubbles in a bottle of two-day-old Pepsi when we arrived. Calling the place
a warehouse was false advertisement; it was more like a dumpster. The air smelled like a salad of awful
smells thrown in together.

Cat piss. Human piss. Cigarettes. Cheap perfume. Weed. Stale beer. Semen. This was the kind of place
Daniel the photographer would love, and I bet if he looked hard enough he could find a used condom or
two lying around. He could totally take a photograph of this place and add this to his collection of
"human existence".

Janet and Nicholas showed up, both wearing black tees with undefinable symbols on them. The light
was too dim for me to tell. It fact, I was the only flash of pink all around. This could very well be the
undiscovered vampire central.
I stepped on something wet, and when I lifted my foot my shoe bottom had turned sticky. I wanted to
complain but my voice was drown out by the music. The band had started playing, and I wished I could
say that they were the glamour aspect of the night,

but there was a reason they were playing here instead of a large music center, and no, it wasn't because
they were cool.

"Isn't this awesome?" Janet shouted in my ear when one of the songs had ended.

I searched her face to check if she was being sarcastic. She wasn't.

The torture went on for another hour, and did I mention there were no seats? Of course there weren't. I
could walk around in my three-inched heels all day in a shopping mall, but standing and listening to
awful screaming was extremely exhausting.

Someone bumped into me hard and splashed liquid down my leg.

"Sean!" I tugged on my boyfriend's hand, and it took me three hard tugs to catch his attention. I told him
I was going to the bathroom to clean up, and he politely asked if he needed to come with me. I spared
him, partly because unfortunately he seemed to be enjoying himself, and partly because I was the tiniest
bit irritated at him.

Before the concert started I tried very hard striking up a conversation with Nicholas, whose life solely
consisted of taking AP classes and working after school, and both subjects were not part of my domain.
He worked at one of those pretentious hipster cafes, where the baristas ran away screaming if you
dared mention the name Taylor Swift. It was like being mainstream was a sin and they could only allow
themselves to like bands that didn't even exist yet, such as the one playing on stage right now.

I came out of the restroom feeling like a martyr. This was what I'd do for my boyfriend-getting to know
his friend and hanging out at this poor excuse of a concert, when he wouldn't

even try to talk about Raymond without throwing in snide remarks. Before heading back, I stopped at
the so-called bar (which was more like a refreshment stand), and asked for a bottle of water.

"Do you like it?"

I turned my head to see a scrawny guy with a head of floppy, ash-colored hair. He was standing next to
me with his hands in the pockets, pointing at the direction of the concert with his chin.

"Are you kidding me?" I unscrewed the cap of my bottled water. "I'd rather listen to construction
workers drill holes on concrete."

He laughed. "I know. I hate them too. And I'm their manager, so that really sucks."

I choked on my water. I coughed a few times more, my whole body heating up rapidly. Talk about
putting my Valentino-clad foot in my mouth. "Oh my God. That's not what I meant. I'm so sorry, I mean-
"

He laughed again. "Relax. I'm kidding."

I glared at him, but because I was too relieved, I joined in his laugh. He told me he didn't hate the music
and he thought they had potential.

"Potential to induce a seizure attack?" I asked.

He smiled, and we chatted for a while longer, with me (good-naturedly) attacking the band and him
playfully defending it.

"They have creative song titles," my new friend said. His name was Dexter. "Lemonade Society and
Chocolate Metal, to name a few."

"It's like they're hungry all the time."

"You're pretty cool, even though you have awful taste in music." He fished out his phone. "Can I have
your number?"

Why not? I gave him my Instagram account too.

Need I say more? Of course Sean wasn't happy about this

whole thing, especially when I saw Dex on the way out, and I introduced my company as "my friends
from school".

"I'm not her friend," Sean said, holding out a hand coolly. "I'm her boyfriend."

They shook hands, and Dexter looked the way I probably did when he told me he was the band
manager. I should be used to awkward social situations by now but I managed to outdo myself again.

"You don't have to embarrass me in front of everyone," I said as soon as I sat down in Sean's car. It was a
stupid defense mechanism because I knew Sean was going to say something I didn't like very soon.

He narrowed his eyes and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "I embarrassed you?"

"Would you act like this if Dexter was a girl?" I asked. "I just didn't find it necessary to point out
specifically that you're my boyfriend."

"I guess you find it necessary to give out your phone number as soon as you're alone for five seconds,"
he said. Sean never raised his voice. Whenever he got mad, he just turned sarcastic.

"Am I not allowed to make friends anymore now that I'm in a relationship? It's not like I agreed to go out
with him. I just thought he's pretty fun to talk to."

"Do you think he asked for your number because he thought you're pretty fun to talk to?" He leaned
back against the seat and exhaled. "Jesus, Flora. You're a smart girl. How can you not know what he
wants?"

"I don't care what he wants. The important thing is, I know what I want. I can't control how people think
and spend all my time analyzing people's ulterior motive." I exhaled too. "Sean, you know you

can trust me. I really didn't mean anything."

"Then you're giving him false hope."

"Oh, so you're mad because you're concerned about his feelings?"

His eyes hardened. "No, I'm mad because you have no regard for mine."

My heart softened instantly, knowing I hurt him. "Oh, Sean. Of course I care about your feelings. I just
didn't think it was such a big deal."

"I always say I have a girlfriend right away," he said stiffly.

That was because Sean didn't want to make new friends. He never tried making any, to begin with.
Those who he had were just conveniently around him, either as a neighbor or someone who sat next to
him in classes. He didn't know friendships can stem from anywhere. From a wrong number to asking for
directions, the possibilities were endless.

"I'm not interested in him or anything. Besides, when he sees my Instagram he'll notice that your
pictures are all over the place," I said. "You know how crazy I'm about you. You shouldn't be threatened
by these other guys at all."

"Flora, I'm not threatened. It's like eating a meal with flies flying all around. I'm not threatened by the
flies, but they still annoy the hell out of me."

I tossed back my head and laughed.

"I'm serious. I try to be reasonable, Flora. I know how it's like to be with someone overbearing and
controlling-"

"You mean like Leslie?"

He heaved a sigh, annoyed. We'd probably invent flying cars first and land on Uranus before he'd speak
anything bad about his ex. "I'm not saying you can't talk to people or make new friends. I'm just asking
you to let

them know you have a boyfriend. Don't give them the wrong idea. That's all. Is that too much?"

To be perfectly honest, Sean really wasn't overly-possessive. He was sexily-possessive, at most. He gave
me the password to his email account, he told me where he's going before he went, and he never
chatted to any other girl on the phone, yet he didn't ask the same in return. He didn't mind when I put
my family and friends before him and I knew he wanted me to be independent and happy. He was
certainly not stalkerish, and he never went into a jealous flying rage.

I knew none of my friends would have this kind of fight if they were dating Sean. Sandra didn't even flirt
with her own boyfriend, let alone other guys. None of them would ask to share a joint with Raymond or
give out their numbers to random strangers at a concert.

Clearly I wasn't normal and it was my problem. I was an attention seeker with no regard to my
boyfriend's feeling. I needed to change, so I could be a better person for him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It won't happen again."

He nodded. "I'm sorry too."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No," he said, but just to be sure I climbed over the shift stick and straddled him. The steering wheel
pressed into my back.

I planted a kiss on his lips. "Are you sure?" I asked, dropping my voice to a breathy murmur.

"Yes."

"Really?" I kissed his cheek.

He closed his eyes, and I started to nibble on his neck. "I can kiss every inch of you just so you can be
sure," I whispered.

He lifted my chin and we started making out. "That's not necessary," he said. My eyes were closed too,
but I could feel it when he smiled. I knew we were fine again.

"Just the inches that matter should be enough," Sean said.

=================

Chapter 52 The Michelin dinner

Sean

"Do you have a tie?" Flora asked.

"Yes."

"It's a Michelin three-star restaurant and you can't wear sneakers."

"I know, I know." I never knew the word Michelin could be so intimidating. Before Flora, it was just a
chubby little man made out of tires. "It's too late to learn about French wine and cheese, right?"

She smiled. "You can just agree with everything I say."

"Are your parents going to ban me from seeing you if they don't like me?"

I had met Flora's parents briefly in junior year, but that was just a friendly chat in the living room and
didn't take very long. This time Flora told me they wanted to meet me properly by taking me out on a
fancy dinner. She said they had never requested to meet one of her boyfriends before.

"Who wouldn't like you?" she said airily. "They loved you the last time."

"But that was before the breakup. I'm sure you said a lot of bad things about me in between." I knew
Flora told her family about all the relationship trivia too.

She chuckled. "Don't worry, it's all cleared up now."

As we got ready to go, she reached up to adjust my tie for me. Her eyes flicked to my face when she was
done and she winked.

They were such pretty hazel eyes. Full of mischief with tales untold, like a magical pond hidden deep in
the shadows of the forest. I could stare into them forever. For a millisecond I flash-forwarded to the
future and envisioned her straightening my tie before work. That was such a far-fetched but sweet
thought, I kept it turning in my head like a candy until it melted.
Flora's

parents were the least parent-like figures I'd ever met and it was easier to just see them as Taylor and
Alice Morgan, two very glamorous, good-humored adults who gave the impression that it must be great
to be them. When Flora was around them, she acted like she was pledging for a cool sorority and they
were the leaders she wanted to impress. Her brother Jeremy, the nicer one according to Flora, was
there too. He looked like one of those guys that had everything handed to him, and you almost wished
you could hate him, but he was so laid-back and cool, you just couldn't.

"You're the first boyfriend I get to meet," Jeremy said, shaking my hand with a friendly smile. The smile
disappeared and his tone turned dark. "My dad murdered all the previous ones. One of the bodies is still
missing."

"Shut up, Jeremy." Flora glared at him. "I really like Sean. Don't scare him off with your idiocy."

"What happened to the other guy? I like him," her dad asked.

"What guy?" Flora looked flustered. I had never seen her flustered before.

"You know, sweetheart," her mom said. "The lawyer? He always picks you up with his Audi R8 and I
thought it's going great! This is just...so soon."

She had the same teasing glint in her eyes as Flora which I didn't miss. I chuckled and her family joined in
the laugh, except Flora who pouted. "You're all so annoying. I never dated any lawyers," she turned to
me and explained anyway.

"Sweetheart, we're just happy you got back together," her mom said. I was surprised they could talk
about our breakup in my presence. At my house it was like sex; we knew

it happened but we never mentioned it. She looked at me and smiled. "Flora told us a lot about you. You
sound like a good influence on her."

"Thank you, Mrs. Morgan. I think Flora is a good influence on me, too."

"Mrs. Morgan makes me feel like I aged ten years. Please just call me Alice."

The menu came, and they all ordered with a quick glance if they knew it by heart already. Flora's mom-I
mean, Alice-asked about a special-made venison which I was sure couldn't be found in print, and the
waiter nodded knowingly. I scrutinized over the menu like it was the Da Vinci Code, trying to figure out
what some of the words meant. I'd always thought I had a wide enough vocabulary but apparently it fell
short in the culinary world.

Taylor and Alice didn't grill me on my family's occupation and what I wanted to do with my life. Nobody
brought up the conflict in the Middle East either. They pleasantly talked about the food in front of them.

"Have you been here before?" Taylor asked. "This is our favorite restaurant in the city and we want to
show it to you."

"I've never been to a Michelin restaurant before," I said. "It's a great privilege. I really appreciate it."

Alice smiled. "Don't mention it. It's just a restaurant. I really like the lovely tableware, though."
"The waiters are pretty good actors," Jeremy said. "They act like they're genuinely happy with all our
dinner choices, although there are only four to choose from. I always have the urge to ask them what
would be a not-so-excellent choice."

Apparently there was no such thing as a bad choice because

everything I tasted was divine, from the heated bread rolls, to the veal, to the mini glass of parfait to
clear the palate. I never knew people could eat like this. A collection of heavenly ingredients could be
boiled down to a single drop of sauce, and every bite tasted simple and complex at the same time.

We talked about Jeremy's ice hockey team at Harvard, then Taylor and I chatted about basketball. He
used to play too when he studied at Penn. When he asked me about college application, Flora answered
for me and described proudly about how well I did at school, as if I got early admission to MIT already.
She reminded me of an old lady showing people photographs of her grandson as she boasted about my
SAT score.

I told them about some of the engineering schools I was thinking of applying and they nodded in
encouragement.

"With your grades it shouldn't be a problem," Jeremy said. "But I've got to tell you there are no hot girls
at MIT. I went to some of their fraternity parties and I know this from my own experience. Unless you're
into the geeky type that build you their own mechanical dogs."

Jeremy was definitely raised in the same household as Flora, I thought.

"Lucky for me, right?" Flora smiled brightly.

"There are plenty of choices in BU and Wellesley, though," Jeremy said. "That's where I do my hunting."

"You don't need to share that with my boyfriend," Flora said.

Jeremy shrugged. "I'm just saying, you know, just in case. I'll email you the details later." He smiled at
me to irritate Flora.

Flora looked at me. "Tell him it's not necessary."

"It's

not necessary," I said obediently. "I'll be busy building a mechanical dog to you anyway."

"That's my man." She patted my hand with a pretty smile, then she turned to her brother again. "Don't
you get tired of the hunt? You have to take some time to savor the game, you know."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? That's the best part. I took psychology last semester, and
we learned about this experiment where there are two groups of monkeys, and in one group, every time
they press the button they'll be rewarded with food. In the other group, sometimes there'll be food, but
sometimes they get nothing. Guess which of these groups of monkeys are crazily pushing the button all
the time?"

I guess I'm simpler than a monkey, I thought. I'd love to be able to control exactly when I wanted my
food and how much of it I could get.
"It's the uncertainty of whether I can get food that keeps me motivated," Jeremy said. "By food I mean
sex, of course."

If we were talking about sex, then I stuck firmly to my choice.

Flora scoffed. "Jeremy, did taking that psychology course make you realize you have all kinds of
psychological problems? Harvard should've done a background check before they admitted you." She
turned to her parents. "Hey, by the way, you didn't ask about my SAT score and where I want to apply
to."

"Sweetheart, it's not going to ruin my appetite, is it?" Taylor grinned. "I'm really looking forward to
dessert."

"You don't need an SAT score to go to college," said Jeremy. "You'll just send the administration office
your best feature: your photos."

"Maybe

I should pick my 12 greatest hits and make a calendar." Flora didn't even sound sarcastic.

"Yeah. With you, what you see is what you get. There's nothing new to discover past the skin level,"
Jeremy said with a stereotypical frat boy smirk.

To my surprise everyone laughed, even Flora herself. Maybe that was her family inside joke or
something and I should go along with it and smile, but it just felt wrong. At the risk of sounding too
serious I said anyway, "I manage to find something new and amazing about Flora every day."

"Me too." Alice nodded. "Is that a new Bulgari bracelet? I also noticed a pair of very unfamiliar-looking
Jimmy Choo on your feet when you were walking in."

"Yeah, I bought these after Sean and I broke up, but this is the first time I remember to wear them,"
Flora acknowledged like we broke up every other day. I cringed every time they mentioned it. "Pretty,
right?" She turned her wrist so her mom could admire the serpent's head on her bracelet.

"Well, you're not broken up anymore. I think this would look much better on me," Alice teased.

"My parents wrote me a check and let me buy my way through my heart break," Flora explained to me.
"I also bought three pairs of Manolos. Thanks to you I now have a much more presentable wardrobe."

The idea was so bizarre I didn't know how to respond. I needed to have a talk with my parents about
parenting skills; my mom only poured me a cup of tea. "That's...alarming. I just learned you have a very
good motive to dump me. I should be careful next time you have a shoe-shortage crisis," I said. This
whole

scenario was just unbelievably weird.

"We only write her a check the first time," Taylor laughed and said, as if it made everything justified.
"We don't want you guys pretending to break up every week to blackmail us."
The dessert was served, and just as expected my blood-orange sorbet was out of this world. However, I
missed having pineapple smoothie at a cheap ice-cream parlor, with Flora sitting across from me, licking
it off her lips and smiling at me. I liked her smile better that way.

Taylor and Alice told us about their recent trip to Brazil over coffee, and they were very good at making
their story come to life. It was a joy listening to them. The dinner ended pleasantly after I said my thank-
yous, and they shook my hand warmly and welcomed me back into her life.

We parted ways with them afterwards and Flora suggested taking a walk. She slid her hand in the pocket
of my coat to hold mine, and we strolled in the evening.

"So, that went well, right?" She beamed at me. "I told you my parents love you."

"Yeah, dinner was great. Your family is really fun," I said and I really meant it, but I couldn't help feeling
disturbed at some of the conversations that took place tonight. "Do they tease you about, you know...
being pretty a lot?"

She shrugged, and I could see her smile waver. "That's just how they talk. Everyone in my family went to
one of the Ivys, and my specialty is as you know it, being beautiful all my life."

I stopped in my track and turned to face her. "You don't mean that."

"Sean, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal. You're

not just beautiful. How can you let yourself believe that?" No wonder she always accused me of being
condescending. She had been dealing with this at home and she was just taking it out on me, when she
was really upset at her family for not taking her seriously.

She looked away for a while, then she sighed and said, "Let's sit down."

We sat down at the side of the street, on the stairs in front of a random building. Flora let me hold her
hand, and after a lot of coaxing, she finally started to talk. "When I was little, Jeremy and Edward could
sit in front of a black and white puzzle for ages without standing up. I'd want to help but they always
told me to go away. 'You'll mess up', they'd say. I was always bubbly and jumping all over the place, and
my parents decided early on that we were going to do different things in life. My brothers both went to
private schools and had private tutors, and I went to St. Margaret's in the beginning, but later on they
let me go to a public high school. Saves a lot of tuition fee." She smiled her usual thousand-watt smile,
but it was so bright it was sad to watch. "Which turned out great because I wouldn't have met you
otherwise. I'd end up like Jess and Sarah. They're so desperate."

What's wrong with Jess and Sarah? They were probably both going to end up at Brown. St. Margaret's
was a really good school for rich girls.

"My parents are great. They just want me to be happy. They let me buy anything I want, and they never
pressure me into going to a top-notch college. They say I can live off them forever."

I always assumed Flora's

parents could bribe her way into anywhere she wanted, but it seemed like they were okay with her not
going at all.

"But...you want to go to college, right?" She watched so many brainless TV series about it.

"Yeah, but I guess it doesn't matter where I go. My parents will find me a job through their connections
and I can make coffee for everyone at the office. I'll flirt with the boss and marry him for money. That's
my life plan," she said with a straight face.

"Flora, that's just so wrong."

"I'm kidding. I can marry an engineer too. You're going to make lots of money, right?" The edge of her
eyes crinkled up.

"I'm not sure how much an engineer makes, but if you want to eat fries for life I can probably make that
happen."

She placed her head on my shoulder. "As long as you're the one feeding me."

We were silent for a while. This conversation was depressing and disappointing on so many levels. Flora
was an intelligent person and I knew she could do so much better, but she wanted to act like she was
too cool to care. I wished she knew that freedom means having a choice and having the ability to do
what her heart desires, yet she was willing to define freedom in the shallowest way possible: my parents
let me buy anything I want.

"What about being a fashion editor?" I asked. That was her future career choice.

"That's what dreams are, you know. Dreams are...dreams. Or maybe I'll bump into Anna Wintour on the
street and she'll compliment me on my skirt and offer me a job."

There was a reason I'd never brought up the subject of her college choices

and grades before. It was a sore topic and I knew she would make nasty remarks about how I was too
nerdy and studied too much, and she'd be passive-aggressive and say things like how she was just a
brainless cheerleader and not everyone could score eight billion points on the SAT like me. She could
afford a tutor if she needed one, and it'd be so much easier if I could just be her boyfriend who flirted
and had fun with her.

I didn't even know if we'd stay together after graduation, and judging from the statistics it was pretty
unlikely. I knew all this, and I knew I could end this conversation right here by complimenting on her
skirt and we would make out and it'd be good, but I just couldn't stop myself from asking this question,

"Can I help you study for the SAT?"

***

When I got back home, my family was gathered in front of the TV watching Millionaire and my dad was
doing a good job of getting every question wrong. He had two cans of beer in front of his bulging
stomach. My mom had her hair up, held in place with some kind of hair clip and she was wearing a facial
mask. Linda was reading a comic book and giggling as always.
"So, was it fun? Your first Michelin experience?" My mom asked. She had trouble speaking because she
didn't want to wrinkle her mask.

"Is Jeremy hot? I bet he is, right?" Linda asked.

"You lucked out," my dad said. "Your mom's lasagna was awful tonight. I ate all of it so you won't have
to deal with it tomorrow."

My parents really were nowhere as glamorous as Flora's. They didn't work in big glassy offices
downtown in expensive suits and they weren't in perfect shape. I was sure they didn't know how to
pronounce Béchamel or Beaujolais either. They were more interested in the courses I took every
semester and whether Linda was back home when she was supposed to.

I was suddenly thankful that they did the best job they knew how as parents instead of trying to be my
best friends. I told them about dinner and how I liked everything, and how cool and interesting her
family was, just like Flora herself.

"But I think I like you guys better," I added on an out-of-character impulse.

They all stared at me like I had food poisoning.

"I can't afford to get you a new car," my dad said, "if that's what you're getting at."

"Thanks, dad." I smiled. "I think I already have everything I need.

=================

Chapter 53 The F word

Flora

When Sean heard of my SAT scores for the first time, to say he was shocked would be an
understatement. I did even worse the second time around.

"Yes, that's all three subjects added together, not just two," I said when his silence greeted me.

"Did you study for it?" He was trying to sound nonchalant so he didn't hurt my feelings.

"Somewhat." I didn't want to hurt his feelings either, with the truth.

He raised his eyebrows very quickly. "You won't suddenly get lucky just because you take it three times.
If you don't work on your weaker areas, you'll probably still get the same results."

What weaker areas? I was equally bad at all of them. I knew he was just trying to help, but that was a
very touchy subject. I was on edge and very irritable. "That sounds like a threat. You really don't have to
help me."

Of course he totally ignored my protest, and ever since our family dinner he had become very
determined in pulling me up from the abyss of self-depreciation. We had already cut down on our
valuable dating time, and now whenever he came over to my place he planned on grinding me about
studying.
"This is how you do it." Sean picked up a pen. He was going over the mock test I did earlier which was a
sea of wrong answers. The few questions I got right looked like it was drowning in red. He started to
scrawl on a piece of paper to demonstrate how to solve the problems.

I was transfixed, but I was really staring at his face. I hadn't noticed earlier how he'd absently bite on his
lower lip when he was calculating, and I didn't understand how I could've

missed it. It was so distractingly provocative.

He put down his pen and I jumped. "Flora, you're not listening."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's not entirely my fault, you know. Tutors aren't supposed to be that hot."

I thought he would at least have the decency to smile since I just paid him a compliment, but no, he
looked at me sternly and said, "This is very important. You won't have time to take it again. Some of the
college application deadlines are by the end of the year, and you want to send your test results in. You
really need to concentrate now."

I knew that, obviously. Everything he said was true, but he could've said it in a nicer way. Sean was
almost always right, but he was so sensible sometimes he forgot I was an emotional girl who acted and
said things on impulse. Instead of coaxing me he would give me a lecture, and I could never win an
argument with him.

I remembered how intense he used to be with me the second we were alone. Nowadays he only talked
responsibilities and priorities, as if he didn't quite want me anymore.

Now, when I was calm and thinking rationally, I knew he was doing it completely for my sake, because
let's face it, what joy could it bring him to correct my tests? But often at the heat of the moment, when I
combined my frustration with my intelligence (or the lack of it), the pressure of applying for college, the
insecurity that my boyfriend's infatuation with me was wearing off, and my parents' obvious pride over
my elder brothers...I often reacted unreasonably and a fight of various scale would spin from there.

"I don't really need to

go to college," I'd basically grasp anything to say. "Lots of people do very well without it. It's a myth that
you need a diploma to succeed in life."

"You don't have to go to college, that's true. I agree college education isn't everything, but I don't want
to spend thirty minutes debating with you about the pros and cons of it," he said. "You don't have to
convince me. Convince yourself. Do you really not want to go? Or are you just too lazy to work for it so
you're acting like you don't care?"

He really didn't have to be so brutally honest. Sometimes I just wanted to whine a little and hear him say
a few nice words so I could unwillingly go back to work, but he made it so easy to get mad at him.

"I'm not acting like I don't care," I said. "Do you know SAT scores are closely correlated with IQ and
studying for it doesn't really help?"

"You wanna know what I think? I think you're afraid to try," Sean said. "You're afraid to find out you still
can't make it even if you try."
If that wasn't asking for a fight, I don't know what was. "Don't pull a Janet and start psychoanalyzing
me!"

He sighed. "I didn't say that to be mean. I just want to wake up your competitive inner goddess."

My competitive inner goddess was ready for war. "SAT score isn't the only thing they're going to look
at," I said, crossing my arms. I almost sounded like I was accusing him. "Otherwise people with perfect
scores would just get accepted everywhere."

"Yes, but that's no reason to deliberately do lousy on it to test that theory." My defense was so weak I
just gave

him all angles of attack. "Besides, it's something you still have time to work on." The unspoken words
were that he couldn't save my G.P.A which was the result of me wasting away my 3.5 years of high
school life, and it was too late to sign up for volunteer work now.

I always got defensive and nasty, and he would get mad. The fights cut into our time together like ugly
molds on the white wall of the math classroom, but at some point the sensitive side of Sean would kick
in and he knew I was just frustrated and upset. It's amazing how I could always sense that moment
when he decided he had been too hard on me, and he would soften instantly. He leaned in closer and
kissed my hair.

"Let's not fight, baby. You know we want the same thing."

I sighed. "Yeah. We want sex."

He laughed. "True. But that comes later." He pulled the test in front of me. "Come on, this is one of the
few things in life that I actually know a little more than you. Let me help you," he said, his face all
earnest, like I was doing him a favor.

I forced a smile and nodded.

"If this really is correlated with IQ, you should do amazing. I know you can."

"The smartest part of me is my boyfriend," I grumbled. "I'm like a beautiful antique vase, great for
admiring, but nothing on the inside."

He rolled his eyes. "Enough with the self-pity. Surely you can put that witty brain of yours to better use
than coming up with analogies and...plotting revenge against me."

Still holding a grudge, are we? "Fine, fine."

"You need to concentrate now, okay?" He pressed his hands on both sides of

my face and directed it so I was staring at the test. "You have 70 minutes to complete the math section."

I groaned as he set the alarm. Everything about him had to be so precise.

He patted my head and moved in to whisper, "You can have sex with me if you get more than 650
points."
That was the weirdest sexual fantasy I'd ever heard. "Wow. I know money can buy sex, but I didn't know
SAT points can, too," I said. I glanced at his face and saw that his lips were curled up, looking cute.

"Yeah, what kind of guy do you take me for? I don't sleep with just anyone."

I laughed and dove into my mock test. Having a hot tutor had its advantages too.

***

After the SAT was underway, Sean started bugging me about college applications. "Are you serious
about becoming a fashion editor?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, do you know how to become one?"

I felt a lecture coming on. "Have amazing fashion sense?"

"Yes, but tweeting about what you wear everyday isn't enough," he said, which was quite unfair because
that was hardly what I tweeted about. I tweeted about him. "I did some research."

I pictured Sean googling about fashion and had to smile. It must've been an adorable sight. "Okay, let's
hear it."

"Well, it seems the most important thing is you need to intern at a magazine during college, and if you
have a degree in journalism or communications, it'd help too. I think you might want to go to one of the
schools in New York as there're more intern chances."

"I'd love to go to New York!" How exciting! And it wasn't too far from MIT! I mean,

not impossibly far. Not that I wanted to admit I'd still like to see him in college because it seemed so
uncool.

"NYU, FIT, Barnard College or Columbia," he rattled off. "I think you can get into all of them."

He had such blind faith in me it was endearing. "Hello, Columbia? I don't think so."

"It's not impossible. Have you decided on the photos you want to send in yet?"

I hit him and he laughed. He grabbed my hand and held it in his before he started talking again. "I hate
to inform you this, but going to runway shows should help too. So if you ever need to go see Lanvin's
new collection again, you can drag me with you."

I was silent for a second as my heart expanded like a balloon under hot air. It was just a simple offer, but
I was more touched by this offer than him actually giving me a Lanvin necklace. I knew Sean didn't care
about fashion at all and he thought I spent way too much money and that I fell right into the traps of
heartless merchants. He didn't like it when I wasted time picking out what to wear, and he couldn't tell
the difference between my shoes except from heels or flats, but he was willing to help because he knew
it was what I wanted.

"You're very sweet, you know that?" I said, my heart full. "You really care about my future."
"No, I care about runway models and free drinks, and I love those tiny snacks that left me hungrier than
before I started," he said with a deadpan expression and I chuckled.

He smiled. "Of course I care about your future." He gazed at me and after a second, he looked down and
said in a low voice, "It's sort

of my future too."

After he said it we were both caught in a moment of embarrassed silence. We were high school seniors
about to apply for college, and at this moment in life it seemed to be a point of considering what we
wanted as mid-term goals (our short-term goal was completed twenty minutes ago on my bed).

"Do you seriously think we can make it past graduation?" I whispered, ridiculously afraid that I'd jinx it if
I said it out loud.

"I can't think of any reason that would make me want to break up with you."

I could actually think of eight billion reasons to break up over college. "But it's going to be a humongous
change. I mean, high school love is hard to work, even though I really love you. Like really, really."

"I know the statistics, Flora, and you know me. I'm pretty rational. But I know this is what I want." His
eyes blazed, like a supernova blinking in the galaxy, and it made me feverish as always. "You have to
believe it yourself before it has a chance to work."

"I just never thought a person can be lucky enough to meet the love of their life in high school." I
exhaled. Not that I hadn't imagined kissing him for the rest of my life. It wasn't a bad thought. "What
color dress do you think I should wear on the wedding? White is classic, of course..."

"I really like you in red. By the way, I can do without the white chocolate fountain at the wedding
reception," he played along.

"I don't want kids."

"I don't either. Or any form of animal. Not even fish."

"You have to take out the trash and remember to put down the toilet seat."

"That's

not a problem," he said, "if you promise we spend Christmas with my side of the family in Miami."

I laughed. "We'll take turns."

"And I want to have sex at least five times a week."

"This part I can actually promise you right now," I agreed, although we were failing as a starry-eyed,
newly-in-love couple. Sex had given way to studying, of course.

Fantasizing about married life was weirdly stimulating for me. I imagined coming home to him every day
and looking into his beautiful eyes, and I let out a wistful sigh. It seemed more farfetched than becoming
a fashion editor.
"I don't really think about if we'll get married," he started talking again. "It's just that we can take it one
day at a time. Maybe we'll get lucky. A day turns into a month into a year into...forever." He stopped.

I stared at him in stunned silence. Forever?

He smiled shyly. "I apologize for the sappiness. Sorry for mentioning the f word."

With guys, it's the thought that counts, right? I gave him a thorough once-over, my perfect boyfriend,
and at that moment I honestly believed I could never find anyone better than he was.

I smiled. "You know what? Forever sounds kind of hot."

=================

Chapter 54 The little black book

Sean

I knew I was asking for it, but since I offered to help with the SAT, Flora picked a fight with me every day.
It could be about anything, from grades, college, her parents, to the fact that she had no guy friends
anymore, or that I wasn't as into her as I used to be. She even complained that I kissed wrong, like I was
just doing it as a chore instead of it coming from my heart.

Seriously? I rolled my eyes and it only made her madder.

"I can feel it! And when we do that, you're not as...thorough as before," she said. We were walking away
from the cafeteria as we relished the rest of the lunch break. Since we were still at school, Flora was
trying to be subtle. Well, subtle by her standards. "You go straight in for the kill like you just want to get
it over with."

"What?"

"It's like...you used to be like a mechanic who checks every part of the plane, but now you're like the
pilot who jumps in the seat, sticks the key in and takes off right away."

"Can you not compare it to a key?" I laughed which was a big mistake. Flora stared at me silently, her
cheeks flushed with anger.

"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry. It's not that I want to get it over with, but sometimes I just can't wait
because...you have to know you're very sexy." And also because we don't have an hour to spend on
foreplay with your test fast approaching.

I admit I had been acting more like a tutor than a boyfriend, but she really was running out of time. The
SAT was just around the corner. She jokingly told our friends that our dating

agenda mostly consisted of a three-letter word that began with S, but I knew she didn't find it funny
anymore.

"Sometimes when you turn me down it really hurts my feelings," she said when we reached the side of
the building. There was no one else in sight and we were alone finally.
"Baby, I'm as into you as ever. Maybe even more so. But I want to be responsible. I don't want you to
look back on senior year and see all we ever do is have sex and you failed everything else." As soon as I
said it I wanted to go back and try again. Telling her she failed everything else was really tactful.

She wouldn't miss it, of course. "So now you think I'm a failure?"

"No...I mean if I were one of your regular guy friends I'd just think of ways to get into your pants, but
now I can't be like that. I want to do what's right for you."

"I want to do things that make me happy and they aren't necessarily the right things." She gave me a
typical Flora-style answer. "I don't need another parent."

Right. Another parent? She barely had one. "You're lucky I'm not your parent. I'd cut down on half of my
business trips and guard you like a hawk over your homework. I'd cut your allowance and set a curfew,
too."

She was instantly enraged. "You don't get to insult my parents. My parents are nice to you. Don't you
dare imply they aren't doing their job."

I sucked at negotiation today. "I'm not. I really like your parents. I want to personally thank them for
bringing you into this world and bringing you up into such a delight. No sarcasm intended." I was
honestly amazed Flora turned out the way she did instead of

becoming a drug dealer or owner of a gambling joint, or whatever it is that rich, bored people without
parental supervision do. "I just think they should stay with you more. You miss them a lot, right?"

"Yeah, but now I have a boyfriend." She sighed in a dramatically sad way. "Who doesn't even want to
touch me anymore."

"Flora, you know that's not true." It hurt to hear her talk like that. Of course I wanted to touch her, and
sometimes I wondered why I didn't just follow my desires and to hell with her future.

She looked away. "And you don't do anything cute anymore."

"Like what? When have I ever done anything cute?"

"You know. Like writing me those chemistry pickup lines and flying paper airplanes."

"You miss that?" I chuckled. "You really are a dork, Flora. I thought you said it's cheesy."

"It's cheesy cute," she said, even though she never told me she liked it before. "I feel like once we're a
couple, you stop trying altogether. We don't do anything exciting and go to fun places. Remember when
you took me to The Cape to see the city lights? That was spectacular."

"We can go again if you want."

"No, I mean a secret place only you know and you can surprise me."

"Do I look like a guy with a dozen romantic hideaways up my sleeve?" I shook my head. "That's the only
place I know." At the time I brought it up as a casual suggestion, but I totally planned it to impress her.
She let out a whoosh of breath, disappointment raining down on her face. "I just really want to do
something fun. Like going to a bar. We're so busy preparing for the future, we

forget to live in the moment."

"Flora, we are living in the moment. Preparing for college is exactly what high school seniors should be
doing. Someday when you own your fashion magazine, you'll be sitting in a bar in Manhattan sipping
your Cosmopolitan, and I bet you'll miss studying with your high school sweetheart."

She smiled a little at that. "You mean my high-school-sweetheart-turned-husband?"

"If I'm lucky."

"Well you better start kissing me like you mean it."

I put my arms around her and asked for a make-up test, to prove I really knew how to kiss properly. This
time I was so busy with thoughts, even I knew I wasn't as into it as I should be.

Our relationship was everything I wanted. How could she still not be satisfied? What's so wrong about
feeling comfortable in a relationship and did I really have to try all the time?

At basketball practice I stupidly decided to ask Dylan if he and Sydney still fought a lot.

Jake laughed before he could answer. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"I'm just wondering how you deal with it."

Dylan looked at me with a scowl. "Are you sincerely asking for advice or are you going to brag about
how perfect you and Flora are?"

"What? We're not perfect. Getting mad at me is her daily routine."

"Really? What about?" Jake asked. In front of them Flora was always super supportive and never
disagreed with anything I said. She thought it was important for my male ego.

"About...anything. Mostly because I'm bugging her a lot about the SAT and college applications," I said.
"I thought I was helping her."

"Man,

that's easy. Stop bugging her," Dylan said.

"She's not dating you for your help on math," Jake agreed. "Biology, maybe, but not math. I'd appreciate
it if someone checks application deadlines for me, though."

"But Target is hiring all year round," I said and he laughed easily. Jake was good enough to play
professional and was wanted by scouts everywhere. He was one of the lucky few who didn't need to
worry about college at all.

"I know why you're doing it," Dylan said, sounding serious all of a sudden, "but the sad truth is, you're
not going to be around when she goes to college. I don't think Sydney and I will even make it to prom.
Why bother worrying about where she goes?"
"That's depressing. What happened?" I asked out of obligation.

At first I thought he wasn't going to answer, then after a while he said, to my utter astonishment, "I
think she doesn't love me." The shocking thing was that he would even tell us.

"So? I thought you didn't love her either," Jake said. I wondered if he was making a special effort of
being stupid today.

"I'm just saying, what's the point?" Dylan grunted, his mood dropping quicker than the ball through the
net. "High school relationships are a waste of time."

"You know what your problem is?" Jake started launching into one of his grand theories. "You both
choose to date really hot girls, and really hot girls expect to be treated like prima donnas. If you don't
serve her well there are a dozen others in line to replace you. They're fine as casual hook-ups, but if I'm
ever going to get serious with a girl, I'd probably just choose

a six. She'll be so grateful, she'll worship the ground I walk on and she won't give me any attitude."

Jake's logic baffled me as usual. "Why would you date a six if you can have no-strings-attached sex with
a ten?"

"Exactly." Jake grinned. He was about as profound as a wet puddle on a rainy day. Then he said
something that was so out-of-place I wasn't sure I heard correctly. "But I sometimes get it for a second
when I look at you two. You just seem really...good together. Whatever it is that you do, you're probably
doing it right. And I don't mean sexually."

"Fighting a lot really isn't the worst thing," Dylan muttered. It had quickly become a contest to come up
with deep lines. "The worst thing is you don't even care enough to fight anymore."

"That can't possibly be the worst thing, either," Jake said. "I'm not even in a relationship but I can think
of so many..." He stopped whatever perverted thing he was about to say when he realized Dylan wasn't
responding the way he wanted him to.

"You want to talk about it? We're not going to say anything nice, but if it helps..." I offered, even though
I knew he wouldn't say anymore.

"We'll be fine. I guess," Dylan said, and I was relieved because if he started going into details I really
wouldn't know what to say. That was always Janet's job, to offer expert consultation. We offered beer
and that was about it.

"You and Syd always pull through," Jake said. That was the extent of niceness we were allowed to show
for each other even though we really were buddies.

"Yeah, come on," I said. "Who doesn't love...hot

chocolate?"

Jake burst into laughter the same time I did. Dylan glared at us for a second before he joined in.

I left thinking about all the worst things in a relationship which were left unsaid that afternoon, and I
wondered if incompatibility was one of them. I thought of Flora, her putting fun before responsibility,
her tendency to look for excitement and I for comfort, and I thought I'd worry, but miraculously the
confusion stayed only for a second. It vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

We were in love with each other. That was the hard part. If even my friends could see it, certainly we
had enough of it to make up for everything else.

***

I waited with impatience, watching my friends flirt with the cheerleaders in West Brighton. They weren't
even that hot. We just played against their basketball team and won, and I was very eager to get back.

I should have taken the school bus with the rest of the team. Ever since Jake got his Jeep a while back he
was interested in driving everywhere, and Dylan and I hitched with him so we could trash talk, but
consequently I was stuck waiting for my ride.

It was one of Jake's routines, hitting on the cheerleaders of the opposite team. He was quite good with
them and they were privately cheering for us by halftime. He called it networking. Over a year ago he
had the misfortune of messing with the wrong girl who slashed his tires and broke his car window, and it
taught him a valuable life lesson: honesty is the best policy. Since then he always told the girls straight
up about not wanting to get tied

down, and ironically it only made him more popular. It's the same way a finger itches to touch a button
with a warning sign don't press beside it.

They fantasized about being able to fix him, when really there was nothing to fix. Jake was very proud of
the way he was.

I got why Dylan liked it, too. Since senior year he had become our new captain, and when they gushed
about how great he was he got this glow on his face. Maybe he didn't get this kind of admiration from
Sydney often. She knew too much about him; the weakness, the insecurity, the tantrums, but in front of
West Brighton's fresh-faced cheerleaders he was the badass captain of the winning team. I knew Sydney
meant a lot to him, but all the fighting and breakups had got to wear him down.

The new girls offered an exit. He could flirt and tease all he liked without any real danger and he could
get his ego back.

I wasn't running a business like Jake did and I didn't need any exit. I just wanted to get back to my
girlfriend. I wished they'd hurry up and get the numbers they want, exchange social media accounts,
take a photo or something. We had reached the entrance of the school, and they were all lingering.

I glanced down at my watch. It was a little over six on a Saturday night; if we rushed back I could have
dinner with Flora.

"You're very quiet." I was hanging back several steps and spacing out when one of the girls walked up to
me. She had curly blonde hair falling in tendrils around her face.

"I'm just..." not at all interested "...a little tired."

"Okay. I'll give you my number

right now and save you fifteen minutes of flirting."

I forced out a smile to avoid being antisocial. "Thanks. But I have a girlfriend."

She shrugged. "We'll just talk then. Or are you not allowed to talk to strangers?"

My girlfriend is the spokesperson of talktostrangers.com, I thought. She didn't care at all. "No, but I'm
not very interesting to talk to." I was just being honest, but this line seemed to give her the wrong
impression of me challenging her.

"I'll see what I can do about that." She tilted her head slightly and studied my face. "I'm not really a
stranger though. Haven't we met before?"

"Have we?" She did look vaguely familiar. "Maybe during one of the games?"

"No, privately. I think you were half-naked and passed out on a pool table. They were there too." She
pointed at my friends with her chin, and a distant night of us chugging down tequila shots came back to
me. I cringed inwardly.

Jake walked over, a group of people following him like his backup dancers. "Hey, we're talking about
getting something to eat," he said, grinning. "They promise to show us the best burritos in town."

"It won't be like anything you've tried before," the brunette beside him said.

Jake and Dylan both looked at me, conveying a silent message that they really wanted this.

This is not the time to be lame, Jake telepathized.

Don't ruin this for me, Dylan telepathized. I need three new sevens to distract me from the old ten.

"Sure." I ignored the queasy feeling in my stomach. I quickly justified my action. 1. This wasn't a

one-on-one date. 2. I was only doing this for my buddies. And burritos. 3. Flora was cool and she
wouldn't mind at all.

I'll just quickly text her and tell her about this.

"I'm glad you decide to join us," the cheerleader with the curly blonde hair fell into steps with me. "It'll
be fun."

I'll make sure I sit next to someone else during dinner, I was thinking, when a car horn blasted shrilly a
few feet away. Everybody jumped. If the horn could talk it would be cursing. I turned to the sound and
what should I find but Flora's silver Mercedes.

I blinked. "Is that my conscience or is that really Flora sitting behind the wheel?" I asked Jake.

"It's Flora and she's looking majorly pissed," he confirmed.

She honked again.

"You should probably go," Dylan said. There was alarm in his voice. Flora had always been the perfect
girlfriend, and cutting off our conversation this way wasn't her style.

Was this even possible? I got caught red-handed the first time I attempted to do anything remotely
disloyal. I slid in the passenger seat and she glared at me with narrowed eyes. "What was that about?"
Flora was seldom this mad at me. She didn't even know my evening plans yet and already she looked
ready to kill.

"We're going to grab a bite together, I mean, everybody," I said. "I was just about to text you."

"You didn't look like you were about to text me."

"I was...I swear."

"You were planning on letting me eat dinner alone?" Her eyes were wide with indignation. "I was
waiting for you to get back but here you are, busy flirting with

cheerleaders."

"I'm sorry. That was a poor decision, but I wasn't flirting."

"I recognize flirting when I see it. I invented flirting. You were staring intently at her face like you just
reunited with your lover from a past life."

"I was trying to remember where I've seen her before."

"Oh, the famous where-have-I-seen-you-before line." Her eyes flashed. "She's Claire, by the way. You
met her a year ago when I brought her to that party at Dylan's house."

I nodded. "Yeah-"

"Claire is the biggest flirt I've ever seen," she went on. "If I'm at level Persian cat, she's probably at level
black panther."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Even when she was mad at me, Flora was incredibly
cute. "She's not important. It's just about getting food to me. Besides, I need a ride from Jake and I don't
want to be a buzzkill."

"You mean with your IQ you can't figure out a way to get back without him? It's only a 30 minute ride."

"But they were all expecting me. I was under peer pressure."

"Since when do you care about peer pressure?"

"Oh, come on, I thought you wouldn't mind," I pleaded. "You know me. I told her right away I have a
girlfriend."

She looked out of her car window, distraught, and with an exhale she flicked her gaze back to me. Her
eyes reminded me of Marlon Brando in Godfather, and I could read she wanted to tie bricks on me and
throw me in a river. "The more aloof you are the more turned-on they'd be."

"But what was I supposed to say?"

"How about 'sorry, but you're just not hot enough'?"

she snapped. I waited, and sure enough, a second later the edge of her eyes crinkled up and she smiled
despite herself. Flora was always adorable like that, amusing herself in the middle of a fight.
"Yeah, that's a really good line," I said. "Hey, do you think I should have it tattooed to my palm? If
anything like this happens again, I can hold up my hand and I don't even have to open my mouth." I
practiced holding up my hand and she laughed.

"Come on, forgive me," I said, deciding to strike while the iron was hot. "I really wasn't flirting and I just
wanted to get something to eat. That's all."

Flora sighed. "I hate seeing other girls come on to you."

That wasn't the Flora I knew. She'd just laugh it off and tease me and tell me how lucky she was. "Why?
You used to be proud of it," I said carefully. I didn't really get why she was so mad in the first place. She
always encouraged me to be nicer and she was exactly the kind of friendly cheerleader to chat up the
other team.

She chewed on her bottom lip and her eyes softened. "Yeah, you know what bugs me the most? It's how
mad I'm about the whole thing even though I know it's nothing. This is probably some male-bonding
thing for you and I know you're just hungry."

"I am! I'm honestly just going along with Jake and Dylan, and they were going to take us out for
burritos." I nudged her, taking my chance. She looked more forgiving now. "Burritos, Flora. I can't say no
to cheap salty food, you know that."

She took a huge breath. "I'm mad at myself for being mad. I think I'm jealous." She whispered jealous
softly, like

the word would bite her tongue. "Me, Flora Morgan, jealous. I was never jealous. I honestly didn't know
what jealousy is. I mean, I was appalled when you dated Leslie, but at least I was civilized to her until she
started being mean to me, but just now I really wanted to run my car over Claire."

"Welcome to my world," I said. "I have a little black book where I put down every guy you've ever dated
so I can remember to murder them."

"What, like Death Note?" Flora asked. By then I had started to grin and I couldn't stop. She crossed her
arms and scowled. "You think this is funny?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just...really flattered. It's nice to know you care about me like that."

"Well, I'm not glad. Jealousy sucks. You're far too cute to be let out wandering on your own," she said.
"By the way, you're apparently a masochist because I just threw a hissy fit and bit your head off, yet
you're smiling like a Cheshire cat."

"You're really cute when you're jealous, baby."

She sighed. "I'm sorry I overreacted. That was so uncool of me, honking the horn like a lunatic. I
probably embarrassed you in front of your friends."

"No, it was my fault. I'm glad you showed up, actually. You gave me the perfect excuse to escape. Unless
you want to join them?"

"I might kill Claire. I'm serious," she said with a deadpan expression before breaking into a smile. "Yeah,
why not? As long as we arrange the seating carefully."
"Great." Flora and I may have heated discussions a lot, but we always made up before causing any real
damage. She was hilarious even when she was angry and neither

of us was afraid to apologize. We really should publish a book on how to fight properly. I ran my fingers
through her hair, genuinely happy to see her. "Why are you here anyway?"

"I had a sudden urge to see you...and..." She looked away. Her lips were tight and she looked less than
pleased. "I just got my SAT result back and I want to tell you right away, in person."

That almost sounded like an accusation. My heart raced. This was the moment we had been working for,
and although I was eighty percent sure she'd nail it, there was still the nagging worry that something
unexpected might slap me in the face.

"Well, how did you do?" I was practically holding my breath.

She shrugged, not answering. I could feel dread spreading and wrapping around me like dark vines. All
the signs were there. Why Flora was so irrationally upset. Why she wasn't giddy and tweeting about it.
Why she didn't bring it up herself right away-

"Not as high as you, obviously," Flora said. "I got 2110."

"2110?" I repeated.

She couldn't hold back her grin anymore. "Not too shabby, right?"

"That's amazing! I know you can do it!" I leaned in to give her a suffocating hug, and she giggled and told
me not to mess up her hair. She needed to look her best to win in the battle later against Claire.

"You really are the smartest and the most beautiful girl I ever know," I said. She could do anything she
set her mind on, and considering the time she put into it, it was undoubtedly the most cost-effective
investment ever. I loved that she never made a big deal out of her intelligence. She almost seemed
embarrassed by it. She'd rather talk about her hair, but I saw the person underneath and I adored her all
the more for it.

She tossed her head back and laughed, the way that always made me smitten. "It's no big deal. I have a
great tutor, and I really just want to remind you that you're in debt to me. 2110 divided by 650...you
owe me 3.25 times of hot sex, mister."

=================

Chapter 55 The cake and the carnival

Flora

Tea time with my BFFs usually took place on Sunday afternoons, but with Sean's basketball games
interfering, I had to move the schedule around a little. I wasn't placing him before them; it's only
because he was busier and I wanted to be available whenever he was free. It made total sense, right?

The girls weren't very impressed with my priorities, however, especially when I suggested baking a cake
for our respective boyfriends (and Carmen's scandal which she refused to talk about). They said I was
turning boring.
"Do I look like a Stepford wife to you?" Sandra asked.

"You look more like the kind of wife who poisons her husband's tea," I replied truthfully.

Janet informed me that Brian was lactose intolerant and Carmen claimed she didn't have anyone to
bake a cake for, but as the sweetheart of this group she didn't mind helping me. In the end they all
came, and as Carmen and I tried mixing the butter with sugar, Sandra and Janet watched TV.

It was harder than it looked, creaming the butter, and Sandra wasn't helping by offering snide
comments here and there like she was Gordan Ramsay. It started from my lack of ability in the kitchen,
to celebrity affairs, and gradually she waded her way through our senior class.

"Sandy," I interrupted when she was in the middle of tearing apart Jenny's new hairstyle. "Do you think
we're being mean by secretly making fun of people?"

"Secretly?" Sandra raised an eyebrow. "If Jenny asks me my opinion, I'd say the exact same thing."

"I don't make fun of people," Janet said. "I make observations. I can't promise

it's always going to be positive."

"What's with this newly-discovered conscience?" Sandra asked. "You used to blog about how some
actresses should openly apologize for the hideous dresses they wore to the Met Gala."

"Well, Sean says..." I trailed off when she rolled her eyes at me. I coughed. "Sean says it's not nice when
I laugh at other people, even if I do it behind their backs."

Carmen smiled. It wasn't easy finding someone who shared her opinion, but St Sean never disappointed.
"Amen! I've said so many times that if you don't want to be talked about, you shouldn't do that to
others either."

"I'm scared when people don't talk about me," Sandra said, running a hand through her hair lazily.

"I got to think the other day if we're a little like Regina George," I said. She was the antagonist in Mean
Girls who made a scrapbook out of bitchy comments about everyone. When the book got out and
secrets were revealed, a lot of feelings were hurt.

"Of course we're better than Regina George!" Sandra sat up straight, offended. "We know better than to
leave behind physical evidence. Besides, we don't lie and stab people in the back."

Carmen nodded. "As Oscar Wilde said, true friends stab you in the front."

"Sandra is the epitome of a true friend," Janet agreed, walking over to check out my progress. She took
the whisk from my hand and helped stir in the eggs. As the mixture turned slowly from the color of
custard to canary yellow, she said, "Sean really doesn't like to bad-mouth people. Not even about his
exes, which is so boring."

"That's not boring,"

Carmen said, looking at me. "He's kind, and I think he brings out a very good side of you."
I really wasn't sure about that. I knew Sean was genuinely tolerant of people, but I was just keeping my
mouth shut. Are you a better person for thinking mean thoughts but not saying it? Or does that make
you fake?

I pondered over this as I waited for Sean to show up for dinner. I made a reservation at a very elegant
French restaurant, and as minutes crept by, I realized he was late and not picking up his phone.

Sean was never late. His game should be over half an hour ago, and this was just like one of those
movies in which the waiter kept coming over to refill water and ask if the girl wanted to order anything
else, and as she glanced at her watch, you just knew she'd been stood up and the boyfriend was
cheating on her.

Not that Sean would ever cheat on me, but maybe some cheerleader was hitting on him again. When he
finally showed up, later than late, I was already standing outside the restaurant, ready to stab him in the
front like a real friend.

"Where were you?"

"I'm really sorry," he said, out of breath, and of course he had a legitimate reason. They lost their game
and the coach gave them an outrageously long pep talk, during which no one dared to walk away to
touch their phones.

He wanted to touch me but I moved away out of reflex. I knew I had no reason to be angry, but I was
already angry before he appeared, and the thing with anger is that you can't just tell the brain to snap
out of it instantly. Moods can't be switched from

heat to cool like air conditioner modes.

"Come on, I'm sorry," he said, a little more tired this time. He glanced at the door. "Can we still eat in
there?"

"No, because you're too late and I had to give up our seats," I said through gritted teeth.

He exhaled. "Okay then, let's eat somewhere else. It's just a restaurant."

"It's not just a restaurant. It's really hard to make this reservation." I just spent the entire afternoon
baking a banana pound cake for him, and I'd been looking forward to eating somewhere nice for an
eternity. We ate at his place all the time and I saw more of his parents than my own. The way Sean
didn't care about anything I planned suddenly reminded me of how we fought over his physics test and
the beach house a year ago.

And just like that fight, I knew he wasn't wrong. I knew his test was important and so were his basketball
games, but it was never about those things.

"Flora, I said I'm sorry. Was I supposed to tell the coach I have to run because my girlfriend will get mad
at me?"

He was getting less apologetic and more impatient. I got burned really badly from that fight, but like a
phoenix emerging from flames-or Daenerys Targaryen, if you watch Game of Thrones-I had become a
wiser, stronger person who was able to see the bigger picture. On the brink of an all-out war, I knew
how to make the right choice, and it wasn't slamming the cake on his head like my impulse was telling
me to.

"Sean. I know you couldn't call me. I'm not arguing about what you should've done. It's about what you
can do right now." I sighed

and reached over to hold onto his forearm. "Sometimes I just want you to acknowledge my feelings and
say something nice. Be more patient with my pesky teen hormones-"

He didn't let me finish and he was already pulling me in his arms. "You're right. I'm sorry. You're always
very patient with me whenever I'm upset," he said, and it was so totally true. I'd always make sure I
cheered him up properly, and at that moment I really wanted to award myself with a medal. I was so
mature I astonished myself.

As usual we forgave each other and made up right on the spot. I was about to suggest going to some
other expensive place when he said, "Can we just go back to my house? I really want to eat my mom's
mac and cheese right now."

I wouldn't want to eat my mom's mac and cheese even if she felt like making it. What I really wanted
was duck confit, preferably served with pommes sarladaises, but I couldn't say no to Sean when he had
that little boy look. We headed back and heated up the leftover from last night, chatted with his family,
and when we got to his room he went straight to bed and pulled me in next to him.

"I'm sorry for almost fighting with you earlier," he said.

"Stop apologizing," I said. He looked exhausted, and my heart grew softer than it already was.

"I know I should be more sensitive to your feelings. I want to tell you something though." His eyes
turned to me, and they were tender and a little sad. "Sometimes...I need you to say something nice to
me too. You're the only one I can turn to for comfort."

This vulnerability. How could I not love him?

"I

was in a bad mood too when I met you," he said. "We lost the game today and it's because of me. The
coach snapped at everyone but he meant to target me."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"No, it's true. Sometimes I'm off my game, like today, and I don't know why." He sighed. I let him ramble
on because I could sense it when he was in a talking mood. "The harder I study, the better grades I get,
but playing basketball isn't like that. It seems completely out of my control and I hate that."

"No one can control everything in their life."

He was silent for a second. "Ever since I tore my ACL, I haven't been as good as before. Some days I'm
okay, but some days when I'm running, I'd get this sudden fear that my knee would fail me. My doctor
suggested reconstruction surgery but I didn't want to go through with it, because if I did I'd have to sit
out on senior year. It's very important to me to play this year."
"You want to play with Jake and Dylan."

His eyes widened at my intelligence. "Yes. I can probably play in college...I don't know...but it won't be
the same. I feel like I'm dragging them down sometimes though."

"Hey, you're not dragging them down. They want you on the team too."

He nodded.

"Besides, without you, no one would ever want to go watch any of the games." I stroked his face fondly
and he smiled. "Even when you don't score, you're still very pretty to look at."

"Thank you, baby."

He closed his eyes, and I watched him with love. I didn't know how I managed to find the last innocent
boy on the continent, whose deep

dark secret was he liked mommy's comfort food and he wanted to play ball with his buddies. The more I
knew Sean the less cool he seemed, which ironically just made him all the more cool. He wasn't the hot
king I imagined and he was just Sean, and I couldn't have hoped for a better boyfriend.

Sean used to tuck me into bed, and I liked that the roles were reversed this time. It was only ten p.m.,
however, and I was disappointed that he was ready to call it a night. Ten p.m. on a weekend night was
just a start for my crazy agenda, and I scrolled my phone to look at all the texts and invitations.

There was an especially interesting one from Sarah. She sent me a photo of her and Jess caught in
flashlight, at some strange party with balloons and foams floating off in the background. Both their
shirts were soaked with what looked like soap water.

Come join us, the text read with a dozen exclamation points behind it.

I glanced over at my adorable boyfriend who was about to fall asleep any second. I leaned down to plant
a kiss on his plush lips. "I'll let you rest. I should get going now."

He smiled at me groggily. "Text me when you get home?"

"Sure."

As I stepped into the night, I wanted to step on my gas pedal really hard. The breeze was welcoming,
alluring me with a sense of danger, and there were bizarre adventures, unfathomable wonders,
fascinating strangers...

...which I would now steer away from. I knew I was going to drive straight home because I didn't want
Sean to worry, and I probably partied too hard before him anyway.

But for some reason, as I cruised through

the darkness--

I felt really lost.

***
It was a beautiful weekend afternoon and I was having lunch near school with Sandra, who just got out
of her meeting with the Prom Committee. I hung out with her because I missed her and I refused to be
the kind of girl who forgot her friends once in a relationship, not because Sean was away at a game.

Sandra wore her scowl the way I wore my favorite perfume: we never left home without it, therefore it
wasn't alarming to see. However, once she ordered a lasagna, I knew something was up.

"I think our sparks have died," she said, stabbing her fork into the food as if it'd disintegrate the calories.
"Me and Daniel."

"How so?"

"Lately he's become really unpredictable. One minute he's full of passion, the next minute he's all
distant."

"Are you sure he's not just being an artist?"

She shook her head. "He said he'd call yesterday, and I waited until I fell asleep."

"Why didn't you just call him and ask him what his deal is?"

"I can't. I don't call guys and demand these kinds of things. Once I do that, I lose," she said.

Sandra abided by The Rules religiously, even though that book was published 20 years ago and every
copy should be gathered and burned. She never initiated anything and always ended everything first,
and her relationship style had always worked out for her before. Guys hung on to her like she was dear
life.

"I'm not turning into a nagging wife," she said. "They're supposed to call us all the time and we hang up
first. Once the table is turned and we

start ordering them to call, it's not the same anymore."

"I call Sean all the time and I don't feel like I'm losing anything."

"Doesn't it make him lazy and stop trying?"

"I think that's just how he is," I said.

She shrugged. "You guys match. You're aggressive like a crocodile and he's a hamster."

"It's amazing how I used to think I like guys who run hot and cold, but now I fully appreciate having a
dependable boyfriend who isn't the least bit mysterious. With Sean I just don't need to worry."

"You're the worst listener in the world," Sandra said. "Every time I want to talk to you about something,
we end up discussing Sean."

"Sorry." My cheeks flamed. I reminded myself to stop being so self-centered, I mean, Sean-centered,
although to be fair Sandra brought up the whole animal thing herself. "So, back to Daniel..."

The door to the restaurant opened and in came Raymond. It was logical he'd stop by here because this
place was right next to school. As the Prom King I knew he was just at the meeting too.
I waved at him enthusiastically after he ordered his drink and beckoned for him to join us. Despite the
previous Instagram incident, it didn't take very long for Raymond and I to bounce right back. Years of
drinking and badmouthing people together made our bond disturbingly hard to break.

"Can you go away, Raymond? I'm too busy to ignore you right now," Sandra's mouth was saying, but her
body scooted over slightly so he could sit down next to her.

I was very glad to see him. We weren't hanging out one-on-one, this was a public place

instead of my bedroom, and we were neither drinking nor getting high. Check, check, and check. Seeing
Ray felt a little like he was my kid who was placed under supervised visitation, but if the Supreme
Court/Sean ruled this way then so be it.

"Hail to the queen," Raymond said, glancing at Sandra. "And lo and behold, is that a lasagna? You almost
resemble human today."

"Does that bother you?" she snapped.

"I like that you're eating," Raymond said. "No one likes a girl who's on a diet all the time."

"Guys are the most hypocritical thing in the world," Sandra said. "They say they like a girl who eats a
burger and wears no makeup, but if you show them a fat and ugly one, they'd beg you to cover up your
face and barf up your lunch."

"You're not fat and ugly, Sandra," Raymond said almost fondly. "You're just not very likable."

"I guess I learned it from you."

Raymond grinned like it was a compliment and turned to me. "Congrats on the SAT."

"Thank you," I said modestly. "I worked very hard for it."

"Flora's been very busy studying and turning into Sean," Sandra added.

See? She brought him up herself.

Raymond sucked on his drink, making noises with the straw and looking at me. "Yeah. It's funny. You
have a fierce personality and Sean's milder, yet he's putting out your fire."

"No, he isn't! You just don't like him because you think I've been neglecting you."

"No, despite what you may think, I don't have a problem with Sean. I think he needs someone to
surgically remove that stick from his ass, but I respect him for helping you with

the SAT when I'm sure he had better things to do."

"Sean is tolerable," Sandra said.

Isn't this amazing? Two of my hardest-to-please friends actually approved of him, although they didn't
express like normal people did and a bit of translating was always required.

"What I mean is, I think you're changing," Raymond said, "and you were pretty cool the way you were
before."
"Come on, I'm still the same person. I'm just Flora version 2.0, with some bugs fixed and a few new
functions added. Sean makes me change for the better."

"Isn't he supposed to love you for all the good and bad?" Raymond finished his drink with a burp.
Attractive. "Anyway, I have to go. Catch you later."

Sandra's eyes followed him out of the restaurant, then she turned to me. "There's something I want to
tell you." She cleared her throat and nodded toward the entrance. "He called me last night. He spent
half the time insulting me, then he asked me to the prom."

"Ray? Wow." I raised my eyebrows. "Did you say yes?"

"Of course I didn't! Do you believe his nerves? I still have a boyfriend!"

Interesting choice of words, I thought. Still have a boyfriend.

"Why do you think he asked me? Prom is months away," Sandra said. "I think he just wants to laugh at
me once I agree, then he'd say it's a joke and that I'm into him or something."

"Why would you agree? You don't even like him."

"That's right. Of course I don't like him." I could've sworn Sandra just blushed. "Do you remember how
he lied and asked me to stop chasing him in front of everyone just to embarrass

me? What a jerk. I'd rather go to the prom with the janitor than Raymond Corbett," Sandra said, when
the obvious choice was to just go with Daniel, her boyfriend.

"Of course." I nodded wisely.

Sandra shrugged. "Never mind. Do you want to go to the mall later?"

I did, actually. I was in dire need of some new purchases, but I wished to go with Sean. I checked my
watch and saw that his game would be over soon. He'd call as soon as he was ready and I'd fly into his
arms.

"I...um...I have to see the man you don't want me to mention later," I said.

Sandra rolled her eyes and stabbed harder into her lasagna.

***

"I really feel like spending some money today," I told Sean, wrapping an arm around his waist as we
strolled through the mall. "Sometimes it's not even about what I buy. I have these sudden urges and I
need to swipe my card for release."

"I can't imagine the pain you poor rich people must go through."

"I know, but we try." I smiled up at him. "I want to buy you something. Please, please, please let me buy
you something!"

"I don't want anything."

"How about a leather jacket? You'd look hotter than a thermonuclear fusion reaction!"
He grinned. "I seriously can't keep up with your knowledge in science now."

After a lot of refusing and persuading, of all the things he could've chosen, he picked a bath towel just so
I'd stop bugging him. He said it was an intimate gift, and my dirty mind immediately thought of him
coming out of the shower. I had to agree it served as a great surrogate when I wasn't around to wrap
around him

myself.

After he was taken care of, I started picking out my own things. I laid down a bright yellow sundress
gingerly, setting it apart from the rest of the clothes I threw over the counter.

"I don't think yellow is my color," I told the very helpful saleslady, "but I'll take all the rest."

Beside me Sean let out a small gasp of disapproval, but I ignored him. He wasn't able to offer me any
valuable opinion, but as he'd put it, frogs lay thousands of eggs at once so that it'd enhance the chance
of survival, therefore when in doubt, I bought everything just so I might end up actually liking one of
them. It wasn't when Sean reached over to carry my bags for me that I noticed he was extremely bored.

Not only bored, he was even a little daunted.

"Do you really need to buy all the clones of the same dress?" he asked.

"Do you really need to lecture me on spending my own money?"

He cleared his throat. "Your parents' money."

I turned to glare at him. "Well it is my allowance," I said, and on the way to my Mercedes Sean didn't
make any more annoying comments about my spending spree. He dumped my shopping bags in the
backseat and I saw pressure marks on his fingers in between the knuckles. They were the result of the
handles of the bags pressing in and I bit back a silent gasp. Did I really buy that much?

On the way back home I drove the only way a Mercedes should be driven, which was cutting in front of
other cars and rushing forward the minute the light changed. When the car in front of me was too
hesitant to make a turn, I wasn't too hesitant to blast

my horn.

"Why did you have to do that?" Sean asked beside me. "We aren't in a hurry."

"I don't like it when other cars stall in front of me. What has this world come to? I can't believe a
Mercedes has to breathe in all that exhaust fumes from a Honda." I was only kidding and I swear I had
nothing against Hondas and their owners, but Sean clearly didn't find it funny.

"How inconsiderate of the government," he said. "We should build an expressway especially for
Mercedes and no other cheap cars are allowed."

I glanced at him briefly to show him his sarcasm wasn't appreciated, but that didn't stop Sean from
offering more directions on how to drive.

"You didn't signal when you switched lanes," he stated like I just committed a colossal sin, and I
remembered he told me before it was one of his pet peeves.
"I forgot," I lied. I never intended to because honestly I was too swift for turn signals.

Didn't Sean used to find my recklessness cute? He used to smile when I thrust forward and braked at the
last second, but this afternoon he felt entitled to excessive side-seat driving. It went on until I pulled
over to the side of the road.

"Why don't you drive, my sweet darling angel?" I asked. "Apparently you're a much better driver than I
am." I got out and stopped myself from slamming the door. Not because I was feeling mature, but
because this was my car.

"I really can't object to that," he said, getting out. "I am a better driver than you are."

"You're not just a better driver," I said, my temper rising all of a sudden. "You're

a better person."

We stood next to each other, and I looked at him, all righteous and superior, and a fiber snapped in me.
I was shocked at how I could be so mad but simultaneously so in love with him.

You talk about him more than a religious fanatic talk about God.

You worship Sean like a cult, and you're really starting to annoy me with the way you keep quoting him.

I think he brings out a very good side of you.

Flora's been very busy studying and turning into Sean.

I think you're changing, and Sean's putting out your fire.

I thought of what everyone had been saying, and I thought of Daniel taking that picture of us together.
Back then Sean had looked at me like he wanted me to stay exactly the same.

"You said you love the way I am. Look, this is me." I gestured to myself, my hands shaking as well as my
voice. "I love hanging out with my guy friends, partying at night, spending money, and driving fast. I hate
studying. I make fun of people sometimes but I don't mean any harm. Why are you trying to change
me?"

"I'm not-"

"When have I ever complained about anything you do? I really love you for you. Everything you do is
awesome to me. I even enjoyed going to the science museum with you and I downloaded all these apps
about scientific fun facts so we can speak the same language, but you spend one afternoon at the mall
with me and you can't stop bitching."

He sighed, then he was silent, and I could see him organizing his lines and coming up with a speech to
render me speechless. "I love the way you

are too, but there're things-"

"You don't love me for who I am. You love me for who you can turn me into." I was momentarily
stunned by how profound I could be sometimes.
"I'm not asking you to change for my benefit. It's not like I'm asking you to get a boob job or change the
way you dress-"

"What you think I need a boob job?" I was horrified.

"No, Flora, of course not." He smiled. "Listen. I like that we're different people. I'm attracted to
everything you just mentioned, but that doesn't mean we can't change at all."

You're supposed to love me for all the good and bad, I read out the line in my head in a whiny voice.

"I want you to drive slower because I need you to be safe," he said. "I push you about studying because I
don't want you to regret not living up to your full potential. And I admit partly it's because of my
jealousy, but if you party like you did before, late into the night and drunk with other guys, it'd really
worry me. When you're criticizing people less fortunate than you are, I know you don't mean anything,
but you have to know that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had."

"That's deep, Sean," I said, blown-away.

"That's from The Great Gatsby. First page."

"I've only seen the movie, and I only remember the Tiffany jewelry and Lana Del Rey's song." I sighed.
"See how vain I am?"

He rubbed his palms over my upper arms softly. "You're not. You act like you don't take things seriously
but I know you're much more than that. I love that about you."

I placed my head against his chest

and he hugged me. Why was Sean so good at convincing me? How could he always be right? He should
be captain of the debate team and later step into politics.

"What's wrong with becoming better people?" he asked. "Isn't being in love about adapting for each
other? We aren't a perfect fit in the beginning but we can be."

I nodded. "Of course."

I was about 90 percent persuaded, but the remaining ten percent nagged at me and I had to ask myself,

Why am I the only one adapting?

"Hey, so can I still drive your car?" Sean asked. He held his hands together, looking as expectant as a
puppy. He was so cute I immediately forgot about the nagging ten percent. Heck, I'd even get a boob job
for him if he asked.

Kidding, of course.

I watched him drive and I leaned back in my seat, so engrossed in absorbing every detail of his face that I
didn't realize we weren't on the way back to his house as planned.

"I thought you're going to have dinner with your grandparents later?" I asked. He had stopped near the
entrance of a carnival.
"Yes, but just a quick stop." He tugged at my hand gently. "I want to make it up to you for not being
supportive enough when we were shopping. By the way, you're right. It's your money. I'm never going
to say a word about how you contribute to the economy again."

I checked his expression and decided he meant it. He led the way and we stopped before a shooting
gallery. He pointed at the row of stuffed animals and announced, "I'm going to hunt you a bear."

I laughed. I'd like it better if the teddy bear came with a designer

logo on its paw, but this was good enough. This was as close as he'd ever get to surprising me, and even
though it was as cheesy as expected, I saw that he was adapting too. He was a good kid who'd never be
late for a family dinner, but he was at the moment busy shooting and missing all the targets.

"Sean...has anyone ever told you you're awfully bad at this?" I snaked a hand up his back and teased.

He flicked his gaze to my face. "Yeah, all my ex-girlfriends."

I chuckled and pinched his face.

"I've never done this for a girl before," he said, and I found it strangely comforting that he wasn't perfect
at everything he did. It just made him more perfect, although that could be my obsessive alter ego
talking. I watched as Sean bargained and bribed, trying to get me the giant teddy bear, but in the end all
we got was a small T-Rex.

"This suits you better anyway," he said, tossing it over. He claimed it was because it was one of the
smartest dinosaurs with the head so large in proportion, but I suspected it was because he found me
feral and I pounced on him all the time.

We left happy with our prize, and after getting two cups of blue slushies with toxic food dyes and a
rainbow-colored cotton candy, we sat down on one of the benches. He hugged me from behind with
one arm briefly. I could feel his cheek against my hair and it reminded me of a day a while ago, when we
were by the skating rink and he thanked me for being me and being with him.

But this was better, because we were together now (with a T-Rex between us). I tore off a chunk of the
cotton candy and fed him. I could do

this now, and I could pull his face down and taste all the sweetness on his lips. We kissed slowly for a
while until he broke away. There were kids around us, and he was always cautious about the sexual
content they were exposed to so that they could grow up to be normal people. Sean was very
considerate like that.

I lifted my head and looked up at him. "If you could wish for anything right now, what would it be?"

"World peace," he said without hesitation.

Not an exciting answer, but fine, he read CNN breaking news all the time. "What else?"

He thought for a while before answering. "My granddad has three clogged coronary arteries and he just
underwent another stent replacement. I know his condition is irreversible, but I really wish he could get
better and...stay with us for a long time."
I slid my hand into his and squeezed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He squeezed back.

"Do you have any happy wish?" Like the one I'm thinking of right now?

His gaze fell on my face and he smiled faintly. "Well..." There was a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes,
one which would be lost to an outsider, but I'd learned to read Sean well. It was the look he had right
before he said something he thought sappy and uncool.

"Well, I wish for us to always love each other the way we do now."

I sighed in satisfaction because we had something in common after all. "Hey, that's my wish too."

He smiled and didn't say anything, but our fingers tightened around each other's.

Of all three of Sean's unattainable wishes, guess which one came true?

=================

Chapter 56 The massage

Sean

Flora started coming to a lot of my away games. It annoyed her when Jake called her my bodyguard, but
clearly not enough to be dissuaded. She sat in the audience seat watching me like a proud mom, her
face breaking into a broad grin every time our eyes met.

Scratch that. Not even my mom had that much interest in me.

"Baby, you know you don't have to come, right?" I asked when I got in her car one evening after the
game. "If you have other things to do, it's totally fine."

She reached out a hand to stroke my face. "This is what I want to do. It's a school night and I don't have
anyone to hang around with anyway."

Aside from guys with questionable motives like Raymond Corbett. For the eighteen thousandth time I
wondered if I was being too hard on their friendship, but for the eighteen thousandth time I decided
that while Flora had a point, relationships are fragile and I didn't want to test ours by placing her in an
unfavorable position.

There was another selfish reason and it was the fact that I liked her here. I liked how she was my
personal cheerleader, the way her face lit up like an automatic porch light when I neared her, and there
was something about getting picked up by my stunning girlfriend in her silver Mercedes that made me
feel very special and pampered.

This evening she let me choose what to eat, and I picked the same restaurant as usual, a cheap diner
near school where the food was served fast and hot. I just wanted to get dinner out of the way and go
home ASAP. Flora was attentive, cooperative, and full of smiles.

Said she just wanted to make me happy.

On a good day like this I felt like I had the best girlfriend in the world. This was a girl who was used to
eating foie gras in her designer dress and dating anyone she wanted, yet she was right next to me,
gazing at me with affection like there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

On one of the worse days I still thought she was the best girlfriend, but one who was irritable, impatient,
and ready to fight, and I would be walking on eggshells trying not to get on her nerves. She said she was
fine with my routines, but I knew she craved more excitement.

She needed something bad. Something loud. Something with the possibility of getting out of hand.

Not this evening, though. This evening was one of the good days, and we laughed all the way home. I
was lying face down on my bed when I felt her soft hand slide onto my back.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

I grunted to indicate that I was. I was starting to feel really comfortable around her, and I liked the idea
of us more and more each day. It felt so right and easy.

Her hands moved to my shoulders and because I wasn't expecting it, it took me a full second to realize
that she was giving me a massage. Her fingers slid under my shirt and I pushed myself off the bed
momentarily so she could remove it, then she kneaded down my back.

I almost choked on gratification. I never knew an impromptu backrub could feel this heavenly. She
started back up again when she reached the small of my back, her hands running along my spine up to
my neck. She had strong fingers despite being so slender,

and this had immediately topped my list of favorite things Flora could do to me.

"Does it feel good?"

"It's better than good. Where did you learn these things?" Please don't stop.

"I know a lot about spa treatments," she said.

Praise the lord for the beauty centers she went to; I never thought I'd benefit from them. I asked to
return the favor but Flora insisted she just wanted to give, so I allowed myself to be indulged.

"What have I ever done to deserve you?" I murmured. Flora used to bring out the insecurities in me, but
now she made me feel safe, in the best way possible. Not because I knew I couldn't get hurt, but
because I knew she'd have my back. She was always ready to support me emotionally, and financially, if
I let her.

"I wonder the same thing everyday." She laughed lightly and bent down to kiss my neck. She took care
of me when I was supposed to be taking care of her. I vowed to always cherish her and never took
anything for granted.

Flora's kisses trailed from my neck to my shoulder. Just when I was getting incredibly turned on, she
sighed and stopped. I wanted to sigh too.

"I love you so much," she said, "but I'm worried about something."

I sat up. I prayed she wasn't in one of her we-are-incompatible moods again. "Tell me."
She narrowed her eyes ominously like she was about to deliver a horror story by the campfire. "Jeremy
said none of his friends who were in a relationship made it past the first year of college. Most of them
broke up very quickly over Thanksgiving break freshman year."

"Are Jeremy's friends like him?" I asked.

"You know...hunters?"

"I don't know." She sighed again. "Not all of them, I guess. Jeremy had a girlfriend in high school too, but
he decided it's stupid to string one along to university. He said it's too easy to get laid after a frat party.
His bedroom is right upstairs, as you can imagine."

"I'm not like Jeremy."

"I know, but it's not just that. A possessive boyfriend plus an obsessive girlfriend times the distance
equals disaster. There are too many issues to consider..." she trailed off, and a warning bell went off in
my head. I couldn't be surer of us, but Flora tended to overthink from time to time. I wasn't sure she
was fully convinced whenever I tried to reassure her. She did things impulsively then worried and
backtracked later, and I hoped she didn't think of me as one of the bags she bought and never used
again. "...which is why I want to ask you to consider applying to Columbia," she finished.

"To Columbia?" I repeated.

"Yes." A familiar crazy glint sprang into her eyes, and I realized what attracted me to her could also be
the exact same thing that scared me. "I know you can get in anywhere you apply to! If I make it into
NYU, we'd be so close! We can rent an apartment together and wake up in each other's arms everyday. I
can give you massages all the time."

She looked so expectant and hopeful I almost gave in, not to mention she used massages as bait which
was very unfair, but I didn't want to make promises I couldn't keep. "Baby, that does sound great, but
you know I've wanted to go to MIT my whole life."

She nodded wildly. "Of course! I'd never

ask you to give up on that. I know your granddad is an alumnus and everything. I'm just asking you to
apply to Columbia as a backup."

"I already have several backup schools," I said, stalling for time, dreading the questions that were to
follow.

"Really? I know you mentioned some to my parents, but I forgot. What are they? Are any of them in
New York?"

"Stanford...Caltech...UC Berkeley..." My heart hammered as if I was confessing to adultery.

Flora gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. A few seconds passed before she dared to speak again.
"But those are in California. As in West Coast." She made West Coast sounded like the Amazon Jungle,
as if I'd never return home again. "California is miles and miles and miles away from New York."

"I know where California is, but-"

She held out a hand to silent me, and another hand rested on her forehead in the most exaggerated way
possible. She lay back down on the bed with a thud and stared at the ceiling. "I can't believe you getting
into MIT is actually the best I can hope for. Boston and New York are supposedly four hours apart by
bus, but Jeremy said they once got stuck for six hours and it took seventy minutes just to get from 54th
to 42nd street in Manhattan." She took a moment to catch her breath before a fresh surge of energy
poured in again. "I loathe long distance relationships! Long distance relationships aren't relationships at
all, it's just the hope of having one in the future. I will die. I will die."

Sometimes Flora was so melodramatic I couldn't tell if she was serious. "Boston

and New York are right next to each other," I said.

Flora shook her head. "University should be the time of our lives, but we're going to sit in front of the
webcam every night trying to have awkward Skype sex. The weekends will be spent on coaches with
lousy WiFi signal and my classmates are going to think I'm a weirdo for never joining any of the social
activities..." She sat up again. "I'm going to apply to every school in Boston."

"No! The whole point of studying hard is so that you can get an intern job in New York. What are you
going to do in Boston?"

"To stay with you?"

I exhaled. "Flora, I love you. I hope to live together someday too, but not at the expense of you throwing
away your chances. What if we-"

"Don't say it!" She gasped, pressing her fingers against my lips. "We're going to stay together no matter
what! We'll stay together even if you decide to work at NASA after graduating from MIT, and I'll wait for
you faithfully when you go on your expedition to Mars."

"You can endure the distance between Earth and Mars but not a four-hour bus trip?"

"Six if the traffic is bad," she corrected.

"Flora, it's just four years of our lives, and we're going to see each other all the time. If we have our
whole lives together, what does it matter to spend four years apart?"

"It's four more years spent preparing for the future instead of living in the moment." A shadow fell over
her face, only to be chased away a second later by a bright smile, like a sliver of sun breaking through
the clouds. I knew something insane was coming out of her mouth,

by it still surprised me to hear her say, "I've got it. Let's take a year off school."

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it, Sean, Gap Year!" Her eyes widened with exhilaration and sparkled with lights, almost as
if fireworks were on display. "Lots of bright young people in Europe and Australia are doing it, and we
get to spend a year figuring out ourselves and our future."

"But I already have everything figured out. It'd just be spending my parents' money and putting off my
responsibility while I escape to do...what are you planning on doing?"
"I don't know...maybe we can walk across China on foot? Wouldn't that be amazing?" I loved her
creativity but I had to shake my head at the impracticability. "Or we can buy a camel and travel the Gobi
desert...or go on a motorbike trip through South America like Che Guevara...The possibilities are
endless!"

Or we can make a spear with our bare hands and hunt down boars. I opened my mouth and shut it
again. Usually I'd play along whenever Flora floated off the ground and stuck her head up in the clouds,
but this time she was actually serious. Where did I begin to talk some sense into her?

She leaned forward excitedly and patted my arm. "It's going to be one hell of an adventure and it's so
going to build character!"

"I think you're already quite a character, Flora."

"I've always wanted to drift down Yukon River and feed ourselves on fresh salmon." Apparently she
wasn't done yet. "Have you seen the movie Into the Wild? It's so inspiring! This rich kid gave all his
money to charity and hitchhiked

to Alaska, then he met all those interesting people that shaped his life-"

"His very short life. Didn't Alexander Supertramp starve to death in the end?"

She scoffed like it was an insignificant detail. "That's not the point. Besides, we're going to stay at a hotel
and order room service, so there's no chance of that happening. I think my parents are totally going to
say yes! So don't worry for a minute about financial aid."

So much for building character.

Flora grinned and flashed her pearly teeth as she delivered the tagline of this ridiculous commercial.
"Take a chance, Sean. Carpe Diem."

Carpe Fucking Diem, I thought. That and YOLO were two phrases people abused all the time for doing
irresponsible, reckless things without thinking of the consequences, but I didn't want to hurt Flora's
feelings. I knew delaying her education wasn't her point. She just didn't want to be separated from me.

I was flattered at the thought, but there was no way I could go along with it. "Flora, come on." I reached
out my hand to rub on her forearm. "We can survive college."

"Yeah, we can survive." She gave me a mournful look, like a victim who just went through a catastrophe.
"But I want to live, not survive."

That was one of the things she was really good at: twisting my words. "You know what I mean."

She scooted closer and put her arms around me. "Sean. I just...I'm so mad about you. I want to be with
you all the time. The reason I go to your games and pick you up afterwards is because we can spend
more time together, even if you're just sleeping in the car." Her face was buried in the nook of my neck
and I circled her waist to close the distance between us. Her body was so soft against me. I would've
melted at her sweet words if she didn't sound so sad.
"I want to be with you all the time too," I said, pressing my cheek against her and breathing in the
flowery scent of her hair. Flora hugged me tighter like she was afraid I'd be shipped off to Mars any
second.

But I don't need to be with you all the time. I don't need to wake up next to you everyday to remind
myself that I'm crazy in love with you. I don't need to rent an apartment or ride camels together, and
even if we end up on opposite ends of the country, every time I see you it'd be worth it and I'd be
coming alive all over again.

Do you understand that, dear Flora?

I didn't say all of it because I knew Flora didn't think the way I did, so I just kept asking her to have faith.
I told her the time apart would only make it better when we did see each other, but I could tell she
didn't buy this logic. Her idea of a relationship was living together having fun instead of keeping it tucked
away safely at heart, thinking of and believing in each other like a religion.

We weren't even off to college yet but she was already having doubts. I noticed with alarm that Flora
didn't sound very much like Flora. This was a new side I rarely saw before; a doubtful, emotional, and--
dare I say it?--clingy side which scared me.

Scared not because I wanted to run away, but because I was afraid she would.

=================

Chapter 57 The microwave popcorn

Flora

Since Sean mentioned the f word, I didn't know how it was possible but I loved him even more. This
wasn't only the most responsible and devoted boyfriend, but he was also the guy that I thought of a
future with...despite the fact that future wasn't looking very exciting at the moment.

It was a shame that in order to achieve forever, we didn't have many fun dates anymore. Sean thought
we had a lifetime to try new things and at this moment in life he was too busy to start, or maybe he was
just lazy and it was easy to settle into a routine. His idea of a perfect date was one that included me, but
didn't involve dressing up and staying out too late, and one that was comfortable.

Translation: stay home, talk and have sex (optional).

Speaking of sex, Sean thought of it the way he thought of food. He just wanted to get it out of the way.
He wanted that last few seconds of ecstasy just like he wanted to battle his hunger in the most efficient
way possible, with ready-to-go fast food. He had no patience to sit at a French restaurant for three
hours, just like he didn't want to explore my body anymore, the way he did in the beginning like a new
computer program he got his hands on.

I mostly went along with whatever he wanted to do (which was nothing, by the way) because I knew he
really was tired from all his basketball games and studying, and I wanted to be supportive. I agreed that
as long as we were together it didn't matter where we went, but deep down I still felt (a little) like I was
making sacrifices, therefore I would fight with him about all
kinds of irrelevant things. I was constantly facing an internal conflict where I chose to put his needs
before mine then got mad later, thinking he should make more of an effort to do my things, then I'd
recover knowing that I overreacted, and I'd try harder to be a better girlfriend and cut him some slack. In
the end we were always more in love than ever, but life had become a grinding wheel of doing the right
thing.

To be perfectly honest, the idea of forever was hot, but practicing towards this concept wasn't that hot,
at all.

I was in my room watching a silly drama TV series one night. I knew it wasn't a masterpiece, on top of
being corny and predictable, but sometimes I watched it not in spite of but more like because of its
cheesiness. Cheesy dramas and reality TV are like potato chips: poorly-made, hazardous to health, but
having them once in a while can make a person very happy.

Sean was sitting next to me furiously clicking away on his laptop as he worked on his college application
essay. I peered at his screen and saw he was writing about the person he admired the most, and it was
his grandfather.

While most kids fished with their gramps, Sean probably built a dam with his. He was describing how
they put together a toy boat and won a contest later, during which all the kids had to float their boats
down a river and his made it the farthest downstream.

I wished I had a charming experience like that to report too. My grandparents lived in London, and every
time I visited we'd have tea in one of those extravagant hotels like The Ritz or Claridge's and have

freshly baked scones with clotted cream from Devonshire, and we always finished off afterwards with a
trip to Harvey Nichols. I doubted the college administration offices would be impressed with that.

"That's totally cheating," I said out of envy. "You had a physics professor helping you while those other
poor kids had to fold their boats out of paper and color them with crayons just so they wouldn't sink.
Yours probably had a motor."

He chuckled. "Yes, it had a motor and it was remote-controlled. I could've floated it upstream if I
wanted."

How clever to weave that little detail into his essay so he could underhandedly brag about his
engineering potentials. It was clear Sean had his life planned out--the science projects at school,
interning at labs during summer, AP classes, his perfect SAT scores and the stupid USAPhO that we
almost lost each other over--while I had been very liberal about my own choices.

I said I wanted to be a fashion editor but it was only because I liked reading Vogue and I wanted to dip
my hands into a new line before anyone else, and perhaps one day someone could make a movie about
me titled "The Devil Wears Alexander McQueen/Marc Jacobs/Chanel/Rag and Bone", but since meeting
Sean I knew it wasn't really my dream.

My dream was Sean. Ironically, however, I knew he'd respect me less if I told him that. He'd be horrified
if I threw away my dream following him to Boston, although that would actually be chasing my dream.

Why does everyone have to become doctors and lawyers and engineers? Why couldn't my ambition be
staying perpetually
in love with this gorgeous, perfect boy and possibly marry him when I turned 28? He was harder to
come across than an ideal job.

I was only seventeen; did I really have to figure out what I wanted to do with life right now? I knew Sean
didn't want to feel responsible for stranding me in his city in case we, God forbid, broke up, but I could
very well find out that I didn't like interning at a fashion magazine either, and I'd be stranded in NYC with
an agonizing long distance relationship-which was why I'd do anything in my power to prevent that from
happening.

I went ahead and applied to Boston University. While I was at it, I also tried a few schools in California. I
figured I could explore acting as well, or I could at least become a waitress who dreamed of acting; I bet
California was packed with those.

I didn't let Sean know and I did this willingly, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little hurt he wouldn't
even consider Columbia. I dismissed the thought quickly. It was a dangerous path to go down on, and I
refused to compare everything we had to sacrifice for each other because it'd just make me angry.

"Is it weird I feel closer to my granddad than to my parents?" Sean's velvety voice cut into my thoughts.
"He's the guy who taught me about the philosophy of life."

"Oh. So he's the reason you're so unbearably good," I teased.

"Well, he has a lot more morals than the show you're watching, that's for certain," he glanced at the TV
screen and said, in an equally good-natured tone. It was typical of him to criticize the things I watched,

and if I was in a good mood I sometimes found it cute.

But not always.

"Why's that? This is a show about love and courage."

"Every time two people are left in private for five seconds, they start making out. Even if they're
supposed to be unavailable. Is that even possible?"

"That's because they don't want to show them staring at each other for two hours before making out.
I'm not watching a documentary here."

"I think these people are easier to maneuver than E.Coli in a bio lab."

Only Sean could talk about E.Coli during a kiss scene. "Maybe you can watch one full episode with me,
and you'll understand. You can tell me which character you like the most!" That could be sort of fun, I
decided. I was sure he would come up with some very interesting input.

"These characters are two-dimensional and they're all the same besides hair color." He combed his
fingers through my hair, and he smiled his sexy smile at me. "I like brunettes, by the way."

I chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Fine, you're off the hook."

I watched for a while, then I was suddenly bored. "There's an ABC party tonight. Do you want to go? ABC
means Anything But Clothes. Basically people need to find other materials to cover up their bodies, you
know, such as duct tape."
Sean looked up briefly from his laptop. "Is this a trick question or do I really get to decide if I want to
go?"

"We'll go only if you really want to go." I never forced Sean into anything he wasn't comfortable with. He
was an ABC party virgin, after all.

"Okay, then, not really." Surprise, surprise. "Why would

I want to go to an ABC party when I can be ABC in your room? And I want to finish my essay tonight."
There. The real reason.

"Fine." I sighed.

"Do you want popcorn? I can make you popcorn," he offered. He meant the microwave package he
brought over, which was cheap and really awful, a poor substitution for an ABC party indeed. I liked
caramel flavor, but usually only about one-fifth of the popcorn had caramel on, and all the rest were
nightmarishly bland and soft.

"Yeah, okay," I agreed listlessly. "You can have the most of it, though. I just want an occasional one to
chew on."

He left for the kitchen while I watched on. It was Friday night and I was stuck home eating soggy
popcorn with my very sexy but very cynical, essay-writing, party-hating boyfriend, and I could think of a
million better things to do.

When he came back he snuggled next to me and started feeding me. I smiled in appreciation. Amazingly
the popcorn wasn't as bad as I feared. I had eaten maybe eight in a row, and all of them were caramel-
glazed and quite crunchy.

I told him about my finding. "I'm pleasantly surprised!"

"Is that so?" he asked in a nonchalant tone as he proceeded to feed me, and that was when I noticed the
reason I got good popcorn was because it was the premium selection.

I could feel my eyes widen with delight. "Did you pick out the especially good ones to feed me?"

"You're so cute like that." He smiled. "I know you like caramel."

So suddenly it had become the best date-night ever. Sean and his cute little maneuvers never ceased to
melt me like butter in a microwave

oven. When he attempted to feed me again, I grabbed his wrist and obnoxiously nibbled on his index
finger to annoy him, and he laughed as he pulled his hand away.

"Gross. Watch your show."

I lay my head on his shoulder, and we watched together for ten sweet minutes before he decided to ruin
everything.

"They seem to promote a corruption of virtue," Sean said, popping a popcorn into his mouth. "They
make it okay to go behind the best friend's back and cheat with the boyfriend just because you can't
fight love."
Who else were they supposed to fall in love with? There were only six characters in total. Every female
character needed to have a go at all the male characters before the season ended. "Well, it's kind of
logical. She sees the boyfriend a lot because they all hang out together."

"Really? I wouldn't develop a crush on Sandy or Carmen even if you throw us in an incubator together."
He started typing on his computer again.

"That's good to know." Okay, maybe I was the one who ruined it. "So how come you're convinced I'll
cheat on you if I hang out with any one of my guy friends?"

He froze for a second then he let out an exasperated sigh. "This again? You really want to fight about
this now?"

His impatience summoned the rebel inside me instantly. "Maybe, because then this would be a real
date. Sitting at home, you judging me on the shows I like to watch, and fighting about my commitment
issues sound like the perfect combo."

"You seemed to have fun when you were sucking on my finger twenty minutes ago."

"It's just..." I exhaled, blowing

a strand of hair off my face. "This is really boring."

When he turned sarcastic, it was when he really started to get mad. "Let's go spray paint under a bridge
right now."

"I told you about those things but it's not for you to use against me!"

"I'm not..." He shook his head and pushed a hand through his hair. "Flora, what's this really about? Why
are we fighting all the time?"

I wish I know, I thought as I looked down and concentrated on the contour of the popcorn. All the rest
left in the paper bag were pale and stripped of caramel, completely unattractive.

I used to imagine a relationship as oysters and pearls, this hallmark dish of Thomas Keller's Michelin
restaurant. The exquisite, buttery taste of the oysters and the Sterling white sturgeon caviar went
together in harmony, like they were holding hands and singing a duet, and every bite tasted better than
the last. But now, as I gazed absently at the white, fluffy popcorn, I realized that this was more like a real
relationship. One had to eat through maybe a hundred of those to get to a few good ones.

"I feel like we're eighty and living at a retirement house," I said. "I want to do stuff I used to do with
other guys, things that make me feel young and carefree and crazy. All you do is lecture me."

Sean snapped his laptop shut before he turned to me. He made sure he saved his draft first, of course.

"Flora, your guy friends call you up for fun when they feel like it, because they don't care about what
kind of trouble you get yourself into. I can't be just about fun and going along

with whatever you say. I have more things to consider." He rubbed his temples. "If you really want to go
to a party we'll go, but don't pretend you're fine with it at first then pick a fight with me later."
I bit on my lip and said nothing at first. I felt so immature. "I don't want to drag you to a party against
your will, and now you've ruined my mood to go completely," I mumbled, and deep down I knew it
wasn't even about the party. I didn't know what we were fighting about anymore. "Sometimes you
really get on my nerves."

He didn't reply right away and I knew I had gone too far. I wanted to say something to undo it, but as
usual Sean's silence scared me. I watched him, his eyes darkening as he contemplated his next move.

"Well...would you feel better if I left?" he said finally, his tone more defeated than angry. "I can see
myself out."

He had never walked out on me before. By the end of every date we were always reluctant to let go,
hoping to squeeze in one more kiss before the final goodbye. I burst into tears out of shock. "I don't
want you to go. I want you here with me!"

As the tears ran down my face, falling and tripping into my silk top, I wanted to slap myself. I would
never deliberately cry to win a fight, I mean, that seemed so out of the point. I wasn't fighting to win.
Heck, most of the time I wasn't even sure why I picked a fight with him.

I could've come right out and asked him to go to the party with me, and Sean would've said yes. I
could've called Jessica and Sarah and asked them to come with me, since an ABC party was something

right up their alley. I could've gone myself. I could do all these things, yet I chose to stay in with Sean and
got mad at him because he didn't jump at the chance of going out, even though I knew in the first place
that was the kind of person he was.

Perhaps I was the kind of difficult person that was initially easy to get along with, and in the middle of it
I'd reach a phase where I tested him all the time, and after that I would be back to normal and we would
be solid and permanent.

Even something as dull as water has three states; surely we as humans are more complex than that?

I decided that's what it was. I was going through a phase, a mid-relationship crisis where I became teary
and difficult, even though I had every intention to remain poised, understanding and likable so Sean
wouldn't stop loving me.

As soon as he saw me cry, he backed down instantly as always. His urge to comfort me kicked in, but for
the first time I wondered if he'd develop a resistance to these urges over time.

"Okay, okay, then I'll stay," he stammered, brushing at my face clumsily. "Don't cry, please? I'm sorry I
said that."

I nodded, telling myself to stop acting like a psycho bitch and pull myself together. When I finally calmed
down, Sean looked at me tentatively, like he was about to ask me for a big loan. "Flora, I think...are you
unhappy with me?"

"No!" My eyes widened with horror. "I don't want to break up!"

"That's not what I'm suggesting. I just think...you seem dissatisfied, and I know I'm too boring for you.
You want a more spontaneous and fun partner," he
stated very calmly like it was a fact not up for dispute.

But he was The King. Who ever heard of a king who was spontaneous and fun? He needed to be noble,
honest, wise, and had integrity, which was Sean all the way. "The King does not need to change," I said.

"I don't feel like the king very much these days with you biting my head off all the time. I feel more like a
mantis," he said, and after seeing the blank look on my face, he explained, "You know the female mantis
always bites off the head of the male after mating."

I laughed despite myself. That was so him. Telling me biology trivia in the middle of a fight. "You really
are an adorable nerd."

"Flora, I've always been a nerd. I told you the first time you said you liked me. I told you I'm boring and I
study a lot, and that I'm not romantic and exciting, remember? You said you didn't believe me."

I nodded. "I remember, and I remember thinking just sitting with you alone in a room feels very
romantic and exciting already."

He exhaled. "So what has changed? Do I turn out to be below expectation?" He looked hurt. "You can be
honest with me. Do you like me more as a crush than a boyfriend?"

"Of course not! I like you much more now...you're stricter as a boyfriend, but you're also sweeter and
more caring than I ever imagined. You're an exceptional boyfriend. You actually far exceed my
expectation." And of course there were certain things he would only do as a boyfriend.

He smiled tightly. "Then what's the matter? I don't really mind that you get mad at me a lot. I'm just
worried you're not

happy."

"I think...I've become greedier." That's it, I realized suddenly. "Before we got together, whenever you so
much as looked in my direction I got such a thrill. I'd be happy just getting your call or discussing history
with you. I had the most amazing time when I was drying dishes with you and you kissed me on the
cheek. Sandy said you had no balls, by the way, but I thought it was such a cute thing to do."

"It's got nothing to do with balls. It's called self-restraint," he corrected.

"Yeah, I know, but since we got back together I want more of you, like, all the time. I want to do
everything with you, and it's never enough. I miss you so much when you're not here, and when you're
with me I want everything to be superb. I mean, if you were just a random guy I wouldn't care if every
date is the best in history, but I guess I just expect more from you. Do I make any sense?"

"I get it." He nodded. "You're saying you give me a hard time because you love me. I can live with that.
Being angry is better than disappointed. At least you care enough to fight with me, right?"

Was it my imagination or did Sean actually seem quite pleased? He was all optimistic, like fighting a lot
was a good indicator of proper communication.

"Yeah, it's because I love you," I said, which was the truth, "and I didn't know that being in love would
make me so out of control. So needy and insane. You're like some sort of hard drugs that don't sit well
with me."
He laughed. "Hey, you are the drug and I'm addicted." After he delivered this lame line which he stole
from the drama we just watched, I could tell Sean was blissfully unaware again, convinced that all we
needed was love. Perhaps he was right, because after all he was always right.

He brushed at my hair and played around with a strand, then he turned his gaze back to my face, all
indulgent and earnest, and I was once again sucked into those gentle pools of blue, completely
defenseless. "Baby, this is me at the most," he said. "I know it's not much, but I love you and I'll never
betray you. I hope that's enough."

I nodded and pulled my lips into a smile. "That's enough," I echoed, and I kept telling myself that.

That's enough.

That's enough.

He really was a wonderful guy and we loved each other. How could that not be enough?

=================

Chapter 58 The vampire party

Sean

My life with Flora stretched on blissfully. Days were just days, but with her in it, each day felt heavier
with importance. The significance of every small event seemed to expand. I wasn't just dating, but
dating Flora, and that made all the difference.

But while most of the time she made everything feel chocolate-dipped, there were, of course, some of
the not-so-good days. Despite becoming increasingly attached to each other, we couldn't seem to agree
on anything. From fundamental things like where to go to college and if we went to college, to the
simplest things like what to do, what to eat, and how often we texted each other.

At first she was fine with eating at my house. I had neither the money nor the time for fancy restaurants,
and Flora pleasantly agreed she loved my mom's cooking. Our hormones were enough to paint
everything pink, and flirting while loading the dishwasher was fun enough in the beginning.

As the initial infatuation wore off and reality set in, she started to get bored. One weekend I counted my
pathetic savings and agreed to try molecular gastronomy at an upscale restaurant she found on Zagat.
This innovative dining experience basically meant everything went through some brutal physics or
chemistry experiment, and nothing looked like how it was supposed to look like. The crab was made into
a salty orange sherbet while the chicken was minced and mixed with unknown ingredients and turned
into a marshmallow, with green basil foams sitting suspiciously at the edge.

Wouldn't it be nice to crack open a bright red crab or tear into

a piece of chicken breast, feeling the correct texture between my teeth, and spend a tenth of the price?

"It's not about the money," Flora said crossly. "I hate it when you make it about the money. I'm not
eating here because it costs more and it's classier. It's a brand new experience and you're just...you have
no interest in trying new things."
"I don't mind trying new things, but you can't expect me to like everything I try."

Her face hardened as she tried breaking off a piece of red jelly. It was made from mango and saffron,
and I strongly suspected she didn't like it either. "It's safer to keep ordering the same thing, of course, so
you never end up getting disappointed."

That's not true, I thought. The same thing is exactly what disappoints you.

Most of the time Flora let me decide everything, but I began to see it was making her cranky. I would
suggest going out even when I felt completely drained, but it wasn't enough, because Flora was sharp.
She could smell indifference on me just like predators could smell the fear on their prey, and she would
accuse me of putting up with her half-heartedly.

We went to an Indian restaurant the other day. Everything she ordered was awfully spicy to the point of
tear-jerking, and I couldn't understand why it was my fault again but somehow it was.

"Why can't you just go along with me for once and enjoy?" she asked, eyes flashing, angry and very
pretty at the same time.

"I can't even make a comment?"

"You make a comment about everything," she snapped. "When do you ever gasp in amazement when I
show you

something new? I get it you don't like molecular gastronomy, but this..." She picked up a piece of
chicken dripping in cream sauce. "Look, chicken in its original form, and you can see every muscle fiber."

"I know. I like it, Flora, I just said-"

"I thought you liked hot, aromatic food that came in large portions, but you're still complaining. It's not
even expensive."

"I'm not complaining," I said. "I just said it was spicy. Sorry."

Was I deluded or had her temper gotten worse? The old Flora would probably just laugh at the way I
gulped down water and said I was adorable, but now she didn't find me cute anymore. It used to be easy
to get her to forgive me, but now it took more and more effort and I was running out of cute lines.

She said it was just a phase, but it didn't look as if it was slowing down and reaching a plateau. I feared
that one of these days it would reach a point of no return and nothing I said would work again.

We ate in silence for a while then I opened my mouth. "Can you give me a smile? I had a terrible day. I
was traumatized on the basketball court and now my girlfriend hates me."

"You must be doing something wrong if your girlfriend hates you."

"She thinks I'm predictable and I make too many snarky comments." I suddenly felt a little wounded. I
took a moment to gather my thoughts, then I said in a low voice, "But she used to like these things
about me."

Flora looked at me and I saw the light shifting in her hazel eyes. She looked down and sighed. Sighing
and crying were two things she did a lot these days. "I'm sorry. I still like that about
you. I'm just really looking forward to a date with you and I want everything to be perfect."

"I know, but this is perfect. Being with you is perfect. Even though I'm drinking a lot of water." I relaxed
a little seeing her soften.

"Yeah, where is she? I don't see her anywhere."

"Who?"

"The waitress in the purple bra. The way you're downing water is as if you're summoning the purple bra
goddess." She smiled slyly, referring to the time we went on that double-date with Dylan and how he
kept making her refill his cup.

Her eyes warmed as she reached over the table to pinch my cheek, and just like that we were fine again.
We ended the day pleasantly enough, and she kissed me so fervently I got feelings back in my lips again,
even though it was at first swollen and numb due to the spicy food.

I kissed her back in an equally fervent manner just to calm my nerves. She told me repeatedly about
how much she loved me, and she said it really hard.

It was as if she needed to convince herself.

***

"What do you want to do tonight?" Flora's silky voice came through the phone.

Stay at home. "Let's go to a party," I said. I watched the sunlight filtering through the blinds, falling on
my bed in shreds of light. It had been another hectic week, and the prospect of going to a party made
my head throb.

But I knew better. After our failed attempts of trying new cuisines, Flora and I went back to our routines
of eating familiar food. She said it was less pressure on her part because I was too hard to please. She
was getting restless, however,

and if I suggested staying in tonight it would set her mood on fire immediately.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Come again?"

"I said I want to party. Do you know any good ones?"

"You don't have to humor me, you know." She sighed. "We can stay home if you want to."

I could sense a trap when I saw one, and I stood my ground. Our dispute went on for a little while, both
of us insisting on the exact opposite of what we wanted to do. Finally Flora said, "Okay, let me check. I
don't get invited a lot these days because people just assume I'd say no."

For someone who didn't get invited a lot, she had more options than a regular person got in a whole
semester. Two formal dinner parties, a birthday bash, and some weirdly suggestive theme parties that
would make any parent sweat.

"Cops and Robbers?" I asked. "That sounds dirty, Officer Morgan."

She laughed. "How about this? Weekend at the Playboy Mansion. You know, bunny costumes, silk
robes..."

"I'm really concerned about the people you used to hang out with, Flora."

There was a soft chuckle, and I realized Flora was happy. She sounded lighter, bouncier, like an
intensified version of her. We went to her friend Jessica's mansion, and neither of us dressed up as a
vampire as instructed. She was clad in a vintage-looking dark green gown, and I could see she curled her
hair. She told me she was supposed to be Kirsten Dunst from Interview with the Vampire, and I argued I
was one from the modern era, where vampires all looked like high school students.

Flora rolled her eyes, but they were full of light. I decided if

this was what she wanted, then I could put up with a few hours of mingling with strangers.

"You're not allowed to talk to girls, though." Flora wagged a warning finger in my face. I couldn't tell if
she was being serious.

"I won't. I'm here for the guys," I said. "Maybe if I flirt really hard, one of them will buy me a purse."

Flora laughed, and it was the highlight of the evening for me. I could never get tired of looking at her
laugh, especially when it came a lot less these days. Jessica was the only person I knew at the party, but
after she discovered I didn't bring my hot friend Jake, who was doing Claire from West Brighton this
evening, she lost interest in me. I let Flora do her socializing as I retreated to a corner.

I was fine being a wallflower as I watched Flora from across the room, until I noticed she was soaking up
the atmosphere like a sponge. I could almost see her energy recharging like the stamina bar under a
video game character.

It both amazed and alarmed me that Flora seemed happier talking to other guys. She was like a chained
dog set free in a park, and now she was running around barking after a Frisbee.

The fact that she couldn't be like this when she sat home with me made my chest tighten. It was a
feeling of cold metal pressing against my ribcage that made breathing hard. It wasn't jealousy-jealousy I
could handle, and I was used to it-but the dark fear that I couldn't satisfy Flora. It seemed that Flora was
at her finest form when she was like this, when she was circling the room, dazzling brighter than the
disco ball and

making new friends.

We got together the first time with the help of a party and the second time planning one. It made sense,
because I fell in love with a party girl. I loved the girl but not the party, and she was dragged out of her
natural habitat being with me.

I didn't react at all even when a couple of guys got too close, and I thought I was doing a good job of
being supportive, when Flora came back and sat down next to me. She was drinking some kind of
cocktail.

"Why aren't you drinking?" She nodded at me. "You used to drink at parties too."
"We can't both get drunk," I said. "I have to get you home in one piece." It was my responsibility to stay
sober and protect her, or at least her designer bag, but Flora seemed disappointed that we couldn't get
wasted together.

She took a sip of her drink. "Are you having a good time?"

Let's see...I couldn't talk to girls, I couldn't drink, I hated dancing, and my favorite pastime was watching
other guys come on to my girlfriend. "I'm having a great time," I said enthusiastically. Since practicing for
our history play, I'd like to believe I picked up some incredible acting skills.

Flora sighed and set her drink down on the table. "You're a horrible liar, Sean."

"Don't worry about me. I really don't mind being here."

"You know those salesgirls in clothing stores who eye you suspiciously every time you pick up
something?" Flora asked. "The kind that rush over to fold the shirt as soon as you put it down?"

I nodded uncertainly, wondering the relevance of this.

"Well, you sitting here as a chaperone

kind of reminds me of that. It's like partying with my dad...wait, my dad would probably be doing a keg
stand now if he were here." She blew a stream of air through her nose. "I can't fully enjoy myself
knowing you're tired and miserable...and probably counting how much alcohol I've had."

Three glasses and on to the fourth. "Flora, come on. You were enjoying yourself and that's good enough
for me."

She shook her head. "Not when I know you're ready to strangle yourself with boredom." She picked up
her drink again, taking slow sips, like she knew she wouldn't be drinking again in a really long time. She
put it down with a clank. "Let's just go."

She stood up with resolution and tugged on my hand. I followed her outside, unsure and confused,
wondering if we should stay for her sake or leave for mine. As soon as we went out the door, however, I
breathed better. The night was chilly but quiet and comforting, like slipping under a cool blanket.

There was a small garden in Jessica's backyard. Flora sat down on the swing set and I took the one next
to hers. She was silent at first, absently tracing patterns in the grass with her shoes.

"I used to party a lot," she started. "Sometimes I stayed till four or five in the morning and I'd do crazy
things with people I just met. I like it because of the possibilities...it's an escape from the repetition of
waking up, going to school and getting back home again."

Just the thought of doing crazy things with random people at dawn drained me. I relied on routines to
keep my sanity and I needed quiet times to recuperate, while Flora longed for

the exact opposite to blow off steam.

"My point is," Flora continued, "somehow it doesn't feel right with you even if you consents to it. I
thought I wanted you to do my things, but once you agree, I feel guilty about forcing you. Sometimes I
wish you genuinely share my interests, that you love parties and fancy restaurants the way I do...but I
guess then you wouldn't be you, and I probably wouldn't love you so much."

Her words were soft, but they wrapped around my throat and suffocated me. I took her hand and
stroked the back of it with my thumb. She said exactly what I thought, but it didn't solve anything at all.

She brushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. "I know a lot of guys who are exactly like me, yet I
have zero interest in them. I love you partly because of how sensible and good you are. You're like...a
destination, and you're a good influence on me. I probably partied too hard before I met you anyway."

"I can try harder to keep up with you," I said.

She grabbed my hand tighter. "No, I know you have a lot on your plate. You need to be well-rested for
your games, keep up your grades, and spend time with your family. I know you always feel bad when
you tell your mom you won't go home for dinner. You never let me pay for you so I know expensive
dates are out, too. I'm more flexible, and I can do your thing."

When Flora was being so understanding, she made me doubly scared of losing her. I didn't dare picture
living without her in my life, which was why it was so hard for me to point out the obvious. "Baby, I
know you're not happy doing my thing."

"I'm

happy if you're happy," she insisted.

We couldn't reach a conclusion this time, aside from the fact that we both wanted to please each other.
It was like pushing a plate of delicious food back and forth and urging the other person to have the last
bite. We could share food, however, but to find common grounds seemed to be much harder.

I was disciplinary and she was spontaneous. I was logical and she was emotional. I was cautious about
risks and she was reckless. I was a saver and she was a spender. I was often nostalgic, but she liked new
and flashy things.

We weren't just different; we were complete opposites.

She rocked gently on the swing as we watched people staggering in and out the front door. "We're so
different," she said suddenly. "We have nothing in common."

Yes, that was about the only thing we could agree on. "We both like superhero movies," I said, trying to
lighten the mood.

She smiled, the edge of her lips hitching up.

"And ice-cream," I added.

"Well, if that counts..." She tilted her head. "We both hate it when it melts too fast and starts dripping
through the bottom of the cone."

We talked about that during our first date, and a surge of fond memories rushed through my veins. I
nodded. "Yes...and we like the beach and beach volleyball...and bikinis."

"Indeed...indeed. We're both attracted to good-looking people. That's why we're dating each other."
"Yes. Oh, and we like each other's friends and family. That should count for something, right?" I asked. "I
mean, who can put up with Jake and Dylan but you?"

"And Sandra. Let's

not forget Sandra." Flora shook her head and laughed sarcastically. "We're made for each other."

After that we were silent for a while. We could keep up this light banter, but both of us were too afraid
to address the elephant in the room. Finally Flora, being the blunt one in this relationship, brought it up.

"Do you ever wonder if it'd be easier to date someone who's more compatible?" she asked softly.

Her words dropped lightly on my chest and crushed the wind out of me. I loved her too much to even
consider it. This girl was too good to pass up and worth fighting for with every cell of my body.

"It would be easier," I said, gazing at the face I wanted to look at forever. "But I don't want it to be easy.
I want it to be you."

Flora's eyes watered instantly and I fought back the choke that rose up from my throat. Please don't bail
on me, baby. Please don't doubt us. I can't do this alone. I need you to fight alongside me.

My mind was a jumble of panicked thoughts when she stood up and stopped before me. I was still
sitting on the swing, and she lifted my face and bent down to kiss me through her tears.

It was a fascinatingly displaced feeling. Strictly speaking we were still at the party, but we were by
ourselves. She was crying, but her fingers were brushing through my hair with affection. Her body
shivered slightly against me and I felt really close to her.

She pulled back gingerly. "I want it to be you too, Sean. I want it to always be you." She smiled at me and
tapped an index finger on my nose.

The moment on the swing was like holding

infinity in the palm of my hand, and we were looking into eternity as if we really were vampires. It
sounded insane but my emotions were intense and engulfing me, and I couldn't be more certain that I
wanted Flora.

That was when I knew we had something very precious in common that surpassed whether we liked
Michelin food or science museums. I could probably find a computer and type in my hobby, my favorite
subject, my life goals, and it could find my perfect match. Flora could walk back into the party and pick
anyone she wanted.

And yet, it wouldn't be the same. Flora and I were just two people who wanted each other to be happy,
who understood and appreciated each other, who made each other laugh out loud everyday. As
unimpressive as that sounded, it was the most important part of the relationship to me, and no one
could make me feel the way she did.

I gazed at her, hair flying alluringly, eyes twinkling softly, and I knew even though we could only bond
through the shallowest things, we chose each other for something profound and unexplainable.
We kissed for a long time outside Jessica's house. We couldn't decide if we should go back in, but
everything I felt that night, I knew Flora felt too.

And that was more than enough.

=================

Chapter 59 The Gucci perfume (1)

Flora

I had been feeling rather crazy lately, and by crazy I meant the bad kind. While Sean aced at being in
love as if it was a test, I struggled with balancing the role of a good girlfriend and a headstrong,
hormonal teenager, which resulted in a lot of mood swings. I snapped at Sean all the time and I knew it
was wrong. I wanted us to be two rare blue parrots soaring over the carnival in the sky of Rio, but really
he was more like the house cat that was happy to stay at home and eat the same food every day.
Getting angry at the cat for not being able to flap its wings was really unfair.

How miraculous is it to love someone and actually have that person love you back? I should be weeping
tears of gratitude instead of picking stupid fights with him around the clock. When I thought of how
ungrateful I was being I hated myself. I had been crushing on this guy all through my high school years,
and now he was finally mine I didn't treat him the way he deserved.

I decided to adapt the famous JFK quote "Don't ask what the king can do for you, ask what you can do
for your king" and make it my life motto. Here are a few things I (willingly) did for him:

1. I ate at his house and marveled over his mom's cooking when I really wanted to have a candlelight
dinner alone with him. Sean thought he was doing me a favor by bringing me home, but what seemed
like a warm gesture at first soon turned stressful. Yes, I did like his family, but in front of them I had to
be on my very best behavior, like I was hosting the Ellen DeGeneres show. They expected me to be
funny all the time and start conversations, when

sometimes I just wanted to pull out my phone and check my texts.

2. Did we go to three-courses candlelight dinner sometimes then? Of course not. Sean said he was all for
it, but he slipped once and said he found it exhausting. If that wasn't the most insensitive/ignorant thing
I had ever heard then I didn't know what was. The sous chef and line cook were back there sweating and
slaving away while all he had to do was pick up the fork. How could that be remotely exhausting?

3. We didn't try parties anymore. I convinced myself that couples didn't do parties anyway, since they
were just an excuse for drunken people to get close to one another. Now that I "graduated" from
singleton, I no longer needed dark, crowded, intoxicated places to meet guys (even though just hearing
the words dark, crowded, and intoxicated made my heart race in the very best way possible). Parties
sucked and I could live without them.

4. I had started working on his Christmas gift. At first I thought of buying him a Bottega Veneta wallet
since it was low-key and seemed to suit him, but then I thought why bother. He had no money and
credit cards to put in it anyway and I didn't want him to feel like I was mocking him. I ended up--don't
laugh--knitting a scarf for him. I couldn't believe I was stealing gift ideas from Linda, but perhaps that
was what the Foster family liked. Home-cooked meals and handmade gifts.
5. Whenever I didn't see him I was out with my friends and annoying them about how wonderful my
boyfriend was, or I'd be sitting home knitting and checking the time, waiting for him to come

back, like the obsessed fangirl I was. I deserved to have a bronze statue of me in the middle of the city
titled "Flora Morgan, devoted girlfriend and role model."

Sean was appreciative of everything I did for him even though he constantly worried if I was happy. I
assured him that I was, and in the process I assured myself as well. What was there not to be happy
about? After all, we had everything a solid relationship offered: the stability, the trust, the security, and
mutual understanding, even though it lacked everything else: freedom, possibilities, surprises, and
unlimited choices.

When Sean smiled at me I still thought he was the greatest guy ever and I was really lucky to have him,
and that was when I scolded myself, screw choices.

I had already chosen the best anyway.

***

Before lunch one day I saw Sean in the hallway. He was heading to the cafeteria, and when I called out
to him, he turned and waited. I knew every girl in the proximity envied me. I could feel the heat of their
gazes on me as we linked arms, like a scorching spotlight following our every step.

He may not be as cute as Jake to a lot of girls, especially if they preferred the sunny, grinning kind of
guys, but Sean had proved himself to be boyfriend material and that in itself was very attractive. He
smiled at me, and he only smiled at me. It was like fitting a key into a lock, or speaking more
scientifically, like binding a ligand with a receptor or adding a substrate onto an enzyme. I was the only
person that could melt the aloof front he put up and it made me swoon everytime.

"Hey,"

he said.

"Hey, handsome." I smiled up at him, and that was when I saw a few steps ahead, the janitor left the
storage room. The door wasn't closed completely.

The idea hit me like a meteor. It was a sudden surge of inspiration that flashed through my brain. Even
old married couple could create excitement among themselves, and I knew we could make this work.

All we needed was some spontaneity.

I pulled him in the storage room with me before he could protest. I wasn't even horny at all; it was the
prospect of doing something bad with him--but like, not completely, illegally bad--that exhilarated me.

It was pitch dark in there. I shoved him against the door and advanced on him. His body was warm and
solid, familiar yet somehow foreign at the same time. I could hear muffled noises outside and I knew
how close we were from the world, just a door apart, and out there it was shiny and bright and public
while in here it was dark and sensual and sexy.

I felt a long lost but most-appreciated feeling: the course of adrenaline through my veins.
"What are you doing?" Sean's voice came. He sounded...annoyed? Amused? I couldn't tell.

"Isn't this exciting?" I found his lips and pressed mine against them very roughly. It was still Sean but a
tiny part of me felt like I was kissing a hot stranger. His breath was warm on my face, and as usual he
smelled of soap and fabric softener. It was a cottony, fresh scent and very pleasant.

It took a brief while for him to recover but he kissed me back. I ran my hand over his toned chest, and
beneath my fingers, his heart pounded fast. A good

sign. Sean made a small sound between a sigh and a groan, and on hearing that all my reserves flew out
the storage closet.

He sounded so sexy, like a crime. For a while all I could hear was our breaths mingled together and the
electrifying heat between our bodies. My hand slid down, past his flat stomach and still going lower.

"You like it," I teased, happy with my finding.

He removed my hand. "Yeah, but that's enough. Let's go before anyone finds us."

"Come on." I started kissing him again. He gave in. I touched his face, his neck, and when I reached his
collar, I started to unbutton his shirt.

"No," he said.

I ignored him and started on the second button. I just wanted to kiss his collarbone, but Sean pulled
away as if I offended him.

"No," he said more firmly this time. He pushed me off him in determination. With the aid of the light
that slipped in under the door, I could see him steadying himself and buttoning his shirt.

The spell was broken, and it was hard not to feel humiliated and stupid. "What's wrong with you?" I
asked, more shrilly than I intended to.

"What's wrong with you?" he retorted. "We don't need to sneak around like this."

"We're just doing something different."

He exhaled, and even in the dim light I could see the disappointment on his face, like he didn't
understand me. Like I was unreasonable and insane. "I'm going to open the door now, okay?"

He reached for the knob and turned. The light poured in, washing over me like a bucket of ice water. He
grabbed my wrist and pulled me outside.

"Can

we just drop this and go to lunch?" he asked, and I didn't miss the hint of exasperation he tried to hide.

"No." I shook my head and stood rooted to the ground. I stared at him in defiance. I didn't know what I
expected of him, really, and I knew I was letting this get out of hand, but this time there was no wise
Flora subconsciously telling me to look at the bigger picture. This time I just knew I was very upset.

"I don't want to get caught," Sean said. "It's bad for your image."
"How's that bad for my image?"

"Well, you're a girl, and people are very unfriendly toward girls. They judge you on anything--"

He was cut off when the janitor walked back. Sean arched one eyebrow at me to further prove his point,
that we would've been caught if he hadn't been so alert to stop it from going further.

"I was just kissing my boyfriend. It's not like I was kissing a faculty member," I said, my voice rising.

"Yes, but you know how mean people are. They start rumors and spread lies, especially when it comes
to you..." He stopped and bit on his lower lip, like he accidentally said something he shouldn't have. He
reached for my arm and suggested lunch again.

I shook his hand off. "What does that mean? What have people been saying about me?"

"Nothing," he lied. "I just meant that you're the center of attention so people like to talk."

"Tell me!"

"Nothing," he repeated.

"You promised you would tell me everything!" I dropped the magic line.

"Just that...you dated around...there are implications...and lots of toilet graffiti in the boys' locker

room," he said in a very low voice, but it felt like it exploded on my eardrums.

A sharp, sour sense shot up my nose like vinegar, and I was suddenly on the brink of tears. Sean's name
was written in the girls' locker room a lot too, but it was usually accompanied by hearts. I had a pretty
good idea of what other body part came with my name.

He tried to comfort me. "Boys are filthy. They fantasize about you then they attack you. It's not your
fault, but you have to be careful."

"I may have gone out with a lot of people but nothing happened!"

"I know, Flora. I know. I don't believe the things I heard about you."

"What have you heard?" I pressed. "Give me one example."

He stalled for time, and I held his gaze. He tried to tell me that it didn't matter to him, that those were
just rumors, and while I knew I shouldn't care, I just really needed to know how far lies could go.

"Well, for example..." He let out a reluctant sigh. "When you dated Liam Turner, he used to brag about
how you let him...do things to you."

"I didn't even let him touch my car!" An explosion of anger started out in my chest and sprinted all
around, toward Liam, toward Sean, I didn't even know. "I went out with Liam just to spite you. I bet you
never defended me!"

"How was I supposed to defend you? You were dating him and I was just your ex-boyfriend," he said. "It
was bad enough being on the same team with him. I had to hear him bluff about how you said he was
better."
Tears rushed to my eyes. I was madder at him than I was at Liam. I knew he wouldn't have defended

me. If anyone ever so much as catcalled at Sydney, Dylan probably would rupture that person's spleen.
But Sean had such a holy image to uphold he could probably run for congressman.

For the most part, I was mad at myself. Sean had specifically asked me not to go out with Liam but I did
it anyway. I remembered how I used to smugly flaunt my relationships in his face. How I was so
delighted with my ability to make friends. How I was always confident about boys and the fact that I
could make them like me.

Now I understood that they didn't necessarily like me.

I had a reputation, and I was laughable.

"I just like the dating and meeting new people part." My voice was barely above a whisper. "It's not the
same with you. What we share is special. I didn't let them...I never did any of the things that we...that
we..."

"I know. I don't care about all that. I just don't want to give people materials to say nasty things about
you."

But he cared, obviously. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so reluctant to date me at first. Or so quick to
jump to conclusions about me cheating on him. Or so guarded about my friendship with other guys. Or
so worried about people turning our kiss into a big rumor about me giving birth to a baby in the storage
closet.

It was too overwhelming and I just had to say something stupid. "I'm sorry it humiliates you to date me!"

"What the hell? Why are you saying this to hurt me?" His jaw clenched. "I've never thought that you're
easy, you know that."

"You do, you just don't have the guts to admit it!" I always thought I was

popular and sought-after, and now I realized it was nothing to be proud of. I was easy, as my boyfriend
put it. I had been called far worse before, but coming from other girls I just assumed they were jealous
of me. I never thought about what it meant to Sean. It was just one more thing that was wrong about
me, one more thing to indicate I was wrong for him. He was the White Knight of Gotham and I was just
the whore of Babylon.

Sean looked mortified, and I thought he would walk away from me. I was yelling at him in the hallway
like a proper madwoman, and he hated public embarrassment. This was it. He wouldn't put up with my
insanity anymore.

Instead he took a step toward me and wrapped me in his arms. He hugged me tightly. "Don't say that. I
love you. I love you."

I felt myself shaking all over. He kept saying he loved me, his voice as firm as his embrace, until I nodded
and calmed down gradually.

"Okay," I whispered.
"You sure?" he asked, and I nodded again.

"Yes. Let's go to lunch now." I forced out a smile.

"Do you need to fix your makeup or something?"

He waited outside while I went in the restroom to reapply my eyeliner. I stared at the wide-eyed, crazy
girl in the mirror and almost couldn't recognize her.

Everyone said Sean was a great influence on me. I got better grades, I drove slower, I spent less money, I
got home at a reasonable hour and I didn't hang out recklessly with strangers. I didn't make fun of
people's clothes or make mean remarks, and I stopped drinking and getting high.

I felt like a bottle of Flora by Gucci perfume

(it literally had my name on it) diluted repeatedly with Sean, until the content wasn't what was there
originally. I still came in the same pretty little bottle with a black bow-tie on top, but I wasn't the same
inside anymore.

I couldn't decide if that was a good thing.

There was no debate about it, however, that I loved Sean to pieces. I loved him inside and out, from his
pretty face to his kind heart to his balanced, sensible personality. I loved the sweet boy he was now and
the responsible man he was to become. I loved his vulnerability and his strength, his weakness and his
power, his efficiency and how unromantic and practical he was.

The only bad thing about him was that he somehow made me feel bad about myself. Even though I
looked up to him, I never really felt beneath him until now. The more I knew him, the more I added
height to the pedestal I placed him on, and the more desperate I was about fixing myself to match him. I
was insane about the possibility of losing him. I wanted to melt myself into him so we could become
one.

When I walked out he smiled at me, breezily, as if nothing happened, as if I didn't just yell at him in plain
view of everyone. He held my hand on the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice. "I'm really sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said lightly and squeezed my hand.

I glanced up at him and felt dirty, like I didn't deserve him because he was too perfect.

=================

Chapter 59 The Gucci perfume (2)

Janet

Juicy news traveled fast. I heard about my favorite couple's fight before they even entered the cafeteria.
There was a hush as soon as they walked in, like we were in a movie theater and the lights just dimmed.
Flora's face was set in defiance as her eyes circled the room. She tilted her chin upward, challenging
everyone with a what-are-you-looking-at glare. Sean reached an arm around her shoulder and steered
her toward the food. He bent down to whisper something to her and she nodded.

They joined the line. Flora carried the tray, and I could see Sean nodding to some of the dishes. She
briskly picked up whatever he wanted. He was busying rubbing his hand on her upper arm. She leaned
her head against his shoulder whenever the line wasn't moving, and at one point she reached up to
stroke the back of his neck. Sean turned to her and smiled.

To an outsider they looked as deeply in love as ever. To me, however, they looked like Hollywood
couples, the ones who hold hands as they walk down the red carpet, making a statement to the tabloids
about how perfectly in love they are.

Something almost negligible was missing. It was like taking away the filter from a camera lens; things
appeared about the same but just not quite right.

There was no emission of serene happiness. The telepathic connection between people in a relationship.
A secret look only they knew the meaning of. Smirking at each other like sharing an inside joke. Right
now Flora was smiling so fake she looked like the wife in The Truman Show, and Sean seemed to be
trying too hard. A public declaration

of love in the hallway? It was so not him it was alarming.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked when they sat down to join me. "Worried about not being popular
enough?"

Flora nodded. "Yup! I noticed some of the sophomores weren't paying enough attention to me. I need
to show them who the real drama queen is."

"We're fine," Sean said.

"We have too many sparks between us, sometimes an occurrence of a short circuit is inevitable." She
looked at him. "That's what causes a short circuit, right? When the electric current is too strong?"

"Yeah. It can happen when the wire is damaged, too."

Flora didn't pick up anything to eat. On the tray was just the same couple of greasy items Sean ate every
day, and I knew exactly what caused the explosion between them. Too many sparks and a damaged
connection.

"Hey, have some consideration for your less intelligent friend," I said. "Can we not have a physics lesson
in the middle of lunch?"

Flora smiled. "What's new with you, Jan?"

"You guys wanna do something fun?" I twirled my spaghetti around the fork. "I want to shoot a music
video and post it on YouTube. Do you want to star in it?"

"What's the song about?" Sean asked.

"It's a lighthearted song about high school love. It's called Twisted Fairytale."
"I get it." Flora nodded. "Sean is the fairytale part and I'm the twisted part. Cool."

"Hey." He frowned and nudged her lightly with his elbow.

"You're both the fairytale part," I said. "It's a fairytale with a twist, you know, without the dwarves and
elves, castles and dragons, and instead there are real conflicts

and hardships, but you can still get to happily ever after. Just not in a royal carriage."

"Maybe in a Mercedes," he said.

She smiled. "Is that song actually based on us or do you just want someone good-looking in your video?
I'd love to do it, as long as you're not worried that ninety percent of the comments below will be about
your pretty brunette friend."

"I figured you'd be interested since you two are so into acting," I said. "I'm really looking forward to your
history presentation, by the way."

Sean dragged a fry though the ketchup. "We haven't practiced our history presentation in ages. We're
up after Christmas holidays."

"Yeah, it was just an excuse to get close to him." Flora smiled up at him, her whole face drenched in
admiration. "But we have much better things to do now."

Fighting in the hallway, for example.

Flora stood up when she saw Lucia went through the door. She announced she needed to talk to her
about cheerleading tryouts, then she squeezed Sean on the thigh before she left.

At first he was silent, but when she was a few steps away, he looked at me. He parted his lips slightly
then closed them again, like he was dying to talk but was debating about whether it was the honorable
thing to do.

"Is everything really okay?" I asked.

He flicked his gaze to where she was, all the way across the room. She was bent over in laughter, a hand
on Lucia's shoulder. He turned back to his tray and picked up another fry.

"It's okay to complain once in a while to your very best friend," I said.

"Well, actually I want to ask you

if she ever complains about me."

"Hardly ever," I replied. Flora stopped complaining about everything altogether, because Sean doesn't
like whiny people. Besides, she was practically building a shrine for him with the way she obsessed over
him. "When she's with us she can't shut up about how great you are."

"Not even about how our dates are boring?"

"No, she says she can't get enough of you. I shouldn't tell you this but your new nickname is Mr.
Diamond."
"Why? Because I'm shiny but useless?"

"No. Because a diamond is forever."

He groaned as he rested his forehead against his hand. "Great. My biggest regret is that I never
should've mentioned forever. It's just a direction to work for, but I think she takes it as a life sentence or
something."

"How so?"

"Just the other day she said, there's something so final about forever. It's like whatever she has now, it's
going to be like that for the rest of her life. What she doesn't have she might as well forget it because
she'll never get it." He sighed. "Isn't that bad?"

It was worse than he realized. Flora felt trapped instead of protected, and the word shouldn't have that
kind of effect.

I met Brian when I was 16. After one of my gigs he had walked up to me and said, "I know I'm probably
the eighteenth person to say this tonight, but you were sensational."

I had thanked him and asked which song he enjoyed the most. He told me it was Index Finger. If it were
back in the cassette days this song would probably be placed on the B side at track three. No one had
ever

commented on it but secretly it was my favorite song.

"It's like you couldn't wait to get to this song. You sang all of the songs with passion, but when you sang
this one, you had a...a special light in you, like it reminds you of why you like doing this," Brian said. He
had a really nice smile. "If I completely misread you, please don't be offended."

I was shocked, then I was hooked. I gave him my number and I waited for him to wait for at least three
days before he called me, should he decide to call at all. He waited for an hour. I was barely out of the
club when the phone rang. I already had so much to tell him, and it went on all through the night. It was
very Before Sunrise.

I wasn't normally very chatty on the phone but somehow it didn't surprise me when the sun came up. I
watched the sky unveiling and unveiling, turning from the color of dark sea water into the underbelly of
a fish, the light casting different shapes on my window pane. I yawned and said, "Hey, it's good morning,
I guess."

"Good morning. Want to come out for breakfast?"

A few months later Brian told me he had wanted to tell me that first morning, on the spot, that he
hoped to marry me one day. He didn't say it then to avoid sounding creepy, and my toes curled at his
words. I loved hearing it, creepy or not, and I remembered how in the initial stage I wanted him to only
see the best of me. He was only to hear my loveliest songs, look at my prettiest dresses, laugh at my
funniest jokes, and I would be cool and clever as I tried to impress him.

Thirty dates later we would

be lying in bed, hair uncombed, clothes unchanged as we ate pizza, sometimes not even exchanging
words. Sometimes we would go on a marathon and watch every movie directed by Coen brothers, from
The Big Lebowski to Burn After Reading, argue over our favorite one, then eat more pizza. Sometimes
we fought, mostly over his parents, who only wanted him to date other premed students. Sometimes
we ignored each other for days.

He had seen me at my worst and I him, but that was a good thing. If you only see one facet of a
diamond, how can you define its glamor? I had never felt bored, scared or uncertain, and forever
seemed so within reach. It wasn't a bad word, and there was nothing wrong with wishing for it.

"I didn't ask Flora to make any promises," Sean said, "but I don't know why I can't even hint at the
prospect of a future without her freaking out. It was fine when we were just flirting. Ever since we got
back together she's been acting really...emotional."

"Maybe because she cares about you more."

"Yeah, that's what she said too. But she's been crying a lot. Quick to anger. At first it's nothing I can't fix
quickly, but now it's gotten hard. I'm apologizing to her all the time."

"I see." I nodded. "You are Leslizing her."

"What?"

"Is she crazy and clingy and teary all the time? You're turning her into Leslie."

He narrowed his eyes at me and leaned back. "J, I like your smart mouth, but you're really mean
sometimes. Besides, she was crazy before I met her. That part wasn't me."

"I'm just saying Flora is really bad at being

in love."

"Being in love isn't driving a car. It's a basic instinct, not a technique."

I shook my head. "Don't get me wrong, I know she really loves you. I used to find her obsession cute, but
now it's completely taking over her life. She doesn't know how to love you and herself at the same
time."

"What does that even mean?"

"She's not used to being in a relationship. She wants excitement, unpredictability and a constant change.
She thought being in love with you should be an upgrade from just flirting, but instead she got a whole
different package and she doesn't know what to do with it."

"I can't change into someone unpredictable and exciting." Sean's eyes were a pool of troubles. "I don't
even want to change my cell phone ringtone."

"Actually I think she really does like you the way you are. That's not what I meant."

"I think I bore her. She accuses me of making her feel like we're old and retired, but she doesn't want to
force me into doing her things, either." He exhaled. "What's your suggestion? Do you think I should do
something romantic?"
Even if Sean could think up new romantic things to do, which he couldn't, how long could he keep it up?
I chewed on my spaghetti and pondered, then I slowly said, "I think you got too serious too fast. You're
not going to like this, but I think you should let her date other people."

"No."

"Not date date," I clarified. "Just hanging out with guys alone, however you call it."

"How's that going to help?" His eyebrows were raised in plain disapproval.

"That's one of the things

she had to give up, isn't it? Sooner or later it's going to lead to resentment. You took that away from her
but you're not able to compensate her, and during the process you're also tiring yourself out. Just let her
do her thing."

"That's also the only thing I asked of her before we decided to go steady. It matters a lot to me."

"She tries so hard fitting herself into your lifestyle and you try so hard keeping up with her. Yes, I agree,
a relationship requires effort, but it shouldn't take that much effort. Let her go to parties with Raymond
and expensive dinners with Charles or whoever. Let them worry about surprising her with new date
ideas. At the end of the day, she'll appreciate having a steady boyfriend waiting for her and she'll always
choose you. You know you can trust her."

"It's not that I can't trust her, or that she's wrong to want to hang out with her other guy friends, but it's
just something I can't get past. It's easy to tell me to just change my opinion and everything will be
better." He heaved an impatient sigh. "I don't even talk to other girls, yet she wants me to accept this.
It's unfair and it upsets me."

"But you don't want to talk to other girls anyway," I said. Sean put too much emphasis on being fair, it
was like he was signing a contract for a business deal. "Brian doesn't care at all that I hang out with you
or Dylan. I don't ask what he does at university either. You just have to give each other some space. It
relieves a lot of pressure, trust me."

"What works for you doesn't necessarily work for us."

I tried reasoning with him some more, using

Flora's analogy: food. "You may be her favorite food, but she doesn't want to eat the same thing every
day. She spends all her time on you and it's making her feel restricted. In an paradoxical way it's also
making her insatiable."

"People are not vanilla sundaes," he said. "I'm not going to save our relationship with the help of other
guys."

I cocked my eyebrows. "So you admit your relationship needs saving?"

He scowled and suddenly he was defensive. "No, it doesn't. We're fine."

I shrugged. Sean almost never listened to me, even though I had proved my worth time and time again. I
hated to be wrong but in this case I really wished I was. Was it too late to start subscribing to their
newsletter?

Flora came back and sat down with an overly-pleasant smile. "So what do we have to do in your video?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Do we have to kiss? I'm saving my on-screen kiss debut for Ryan Gosling, but I guess
you aren't too bad either." She pinched his chin.

"Anything you want," he said with a tolerant smile, even though kissing in front of the camera would be
the last thing he felt like doing. The way he looked at her clearly showed he was hopelessly in love with
her, but it was quite literally, hopeless.

Neither of them could see it yet, but instead of Cupid shooting arrows between them, it was Grim
Reaper in its place. It saddened me because they were both good people trying to make it work, but a
relationship isn't studying for the SAT.

Sometimes the harder you try, the faster you are fucking it up.

***

I really admire people who manage to update every week. It takes me forever to edit my chapters even
though the whole story was written already. Thank you for waiting!

I'm putting up a short fan fiction at the end written by my lovely friend AnnWrites. I was stressed out
last week and she wrote this to cheer me up. It made me laugh, so I hope you enjoy too (slightly mature
content).

Flora: Seany, I feel suffocated in this relationship. I want a break

Seany: OK how long?

Flora: Five years

Seany: Nooo *cries* don't leave me Flora! *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch*

Flora: Sorry Seany! I have to go.

Seany: WHY?

Flora: I've been telling myself that kissing is enough. But Kissing is not Enough!!! *wails*

Seany: wtf why not?

Flora: Because kissing is the easy part.

Seany: Shall I show you my hard part? *shows hard part*

Flora: OMG!

Seany: Are you still leaving?

Flora: No!

Seany & Flora: *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch* *smooch*
THE END

=================

Part 6 ◎ Chapter 60 The NYC trip

Sean

"Did you ever love her?"

Flora was curled up next to me on my bed, a glossy mass of hair draped over her back. She was soft,
seductive, and sadly in one of her moments where she felt like interrogating me about every sin I had
committed during The Separation.

Leslie was her favorite topic of attack and we had gone through it eighteen thousand times already, with
me begging for forgiveness at the end of every discussion, without exception.

How does one answer a question like that without betraying either girl? I thought I did but I most likely
didn't, yet I felt guilty admitting it. It wasn't even remotely important. Flora already had everything I
could offer; she occupied my thoughts, the whole view in front of me, every tender emotion I had, and
my future was in her hands, yet she still found it necessary to hunt down my memories with a pitchfork.
It was alarming because she was nothing like this before.

She had said Leslie's insecurity was well founded and that she didn't blame her for being less than
friendly, especially since the poor girl was misinformed about the cheating issue. She had been
sympathetic--because Flora was Flora and she was gracious like that--yet adorably arrogant at the same
time. She would jab a finger at my chest and smile cunningly, saying things like, "She was right to be
worried. After all, we both know you belong with me", before moving in to grope me.

But that was in the beginning. As time passed, she became increasingly troubled with the fact that it
happened at all. She rechewed on my fermented past the

way ruminants regurgitate food, analyzing and breaking down events into smaller pieces, and nothing
good ever came out of it.

"Baby, come on," I said. "I don't grill you about your ex-boyfriends. It's all in the past and you know I love
you."

Flora was far from happy with my answer. "That's because there's nothing to grill about. I was never in
love with anyone else the way I'm in love with you right now."

I pushed her hair to one side so I could kiss the back of her neck. "I feel the same way, and the best
moments of my life were spent with you."

"Ugh, I don't know what's wrong with me." She grunted. "I know I shouldn't care but I just--"

"Okay." Most of the time I let Flora talk all she wanted, but there were times when measures had to be
taken. I covered my mouth on hers so she would shut up.
It worked beautifully for a while. We were kissing and her hands were all over me. I always enjoyed how
she wasn't afraid to take charge, and she made it clear how much she liked touching me. Her fingers slid
inside my shirt and she said,

"What if she moved back suddenly and bought the house across from you? Would you take her back?"

I bit back a groan of annoyance. First we went over the facts, then came the hypothetical scenario part.
"If she threw extravagant parties and bought me jewelries, I might," I said, playing along like we were
talking about a scene out of The Great Gatsby.

"You're not taking me seriously."

"Flora."

She flipped a strand of hair off her face and sighed. "Sorry."

I pulled her back in my arms and pecked her

again on the lips. "Hey, I'm waiting for you to ask me that burning house question."

I meant it as a joke but Flora seemed to think I was being sarcastic, so she gave me a hostile sidelong
glance. I grinned at her.

"Well, answer it." The corner of her mouth hitched up, as if she knew she was being ridiculous too.
"Who would you rescue out of a burning house, me or Leslie?"

"I think I'll wait outside for the fire truck to arrive."

She pouted and I smiled. "You," I said. "I'll rescue you out of whatever shitty position you find yourself
in, okay? I'll choose you every time."

"You can't rescue me out of this shitty position right now." She gestured wildly at the space between us,
suddenly distraught again. "And it's that I love you so much I'm going crazy."

She got up from my bed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. I knew Leslie was never the real
issue. It was just something to get her started. A little while earlier, Flora accidentally stumbled across
the violin sonata Leslie had written and recorded for me on my computer, and even though she said she
didn't mind and that I didn't have to delete it, I knew she was upset.

She was upset about the fact that it had the power to bother her. The old Flora would be too confident
to care, and she would probably laugh and say it's too Victorian, but now the smallest things set her on
edge.

I noticed the changes in her, more obvious day by day, but I didn't tell her for selfish reasons. I didn't
want to lose her.

She wasn't happy in this relationship anymore. It was a plain, sad fact. A small

piece of information, almost too simple to hurt.

But it did, and it scared me more than anything.

"I'm not cool anymore," Flora said it herself. "I'm jealous and clingy and moody all the time. I'm not fun.
I've started crying a lot. When you go to your basketball games I just mope around waiting for you to
come back. You'll stop loving me eventually and I'll die a slow, painful death. I'll mumble your name on
my death bed and you won't even remember me."

"I think you sound exactly like who you were. Overly dramatic." I stroked her hair, smiling, but I was so
worried my head hurt. "Come on. Loving me can't be that bad. You make me sound like a terminal
disease."

Flora was a delicate jasmine flower withering right before my eyes, despite my intensive watering and
fertilizing.

"I used to be very carefree," she said. "Now I feel like I have everything to lose."

"But isn't that what's beautiful about love? I know how relaxing it is to date people you don't care about,
but I wouldn't trade what we have for anything."

She picked up items from my desk listlessly as if she didn't hear me. "Are you starting to get tired of me?
I'm freaked out. I think we've gotten really serious and I'm afraid to imagine what will happen when you
lose interest in me."

"I won't lose interest in you. I like that you care about me, and I still think you're tons of fun."

"Really? I hate the way I am when I'm with you. I really hate myself," she emphasized. I was no master
but self-loath didn't sound like the right emotion to have in a relationship. "I think I'm better for

a fling."

"You're too good for a fling. If you leave me I'll die."

She smiled a little at my imitation of her, but inside I felt really sad. I watched her pick up the postcard
she had written to me in the science museum. I had memorized every word of it. The last part was "once
upon a time you made a girl ridiculously happy." I didn't dare ask her if she was ridiculously happy now.
She looked like the saddest, most beautiful thing ever with a haunting smile.

"Did you ever think of me when you were with her?" Flora started again.

"Constantly." I hated to admit this part; it made me feel like a lousy person. "I would think of what you'd
do in a certain situation and make comparisons. But the thing is, when I'm with you I don't think of
anyone else. You are everything I want."

At this moment Flora dropped the line to break my heart. It was unexpected yet hardly surprising to
hear, and I let the hurt sink in defenselessly.

"I feel like I'm channel surfing," she said. "Even when I'm watching one channel, I'd be thinking what else
is on and what I'm missing."

What hurt the most was how she wasn't deliberately saying it to hurt me. It was more like a monologue,
a whisper to herself, but she somehow blurted it out, and for a moment I was too choked to answer. The
truth was lying right before me, because my girlfriend was too honest and too blunt to disguise it.
I couldn't lie to myself anymore. Flora loved me, but she felt trapped.

"You feel like that because you haven't found what you really want to watch. If you did you would be
fixated. You wouldn't want

to miss a minute of the show." I had to force out my words. "That's what I feel with you, Flora."

She gazed at me from a few feet away, and then tears ran silently down her face. Time stood still for a
few seconds until she came back to the bed and threw her arms around me, and everything started
moving forward again at a mind-numbing fast pace. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that." She was
a mess of tears and apologies and I love yous, and for the first time ever the discussion about Leslie
ended with her asking for forgiveness.

There was nothing not to forgive, of course, but I felt myself breaking inside. Flora was more like Jeremy
than she realized. She liked the hunting part. She said I was the destination but the problem was she
liked the journey better.

"Please don't break up with me," Flora cried in my ear. "You can't break up with me because I said one
stupid thing."

She thought love was only about kissing and flirting. She didn't know that it could also be dark
sometimes, filled with jealousy, fights, mood swings, and compromises. The trailer lured her in, but now
that she discovered the movie wasn't as interesting as she anticipated, she was forcing herself to sit
through the whole thing.

I didn't dream about forever anymore. I knew I should set her free, but I was too weak to let go. I was
going to let her walk away from me when she was ready.

"I won't break up with you." I wiped her tears away and forced a smile. "You know what we need? Let's
go travel together."

***

I could squeeze out three days during Christmas

holidays and she said she could do the same. Deciding on a location was tons of work, needless to say.
Flora had an unlimited supply of impractical suggestions. She wanted to go to Paris. I wanted to go on a
road trip where we stopped at delis and had rowdy sex in motels, ate lots of gas station nachos and
listened to loud music. She said motel bed linen would give her a rash and she couldn't stay anywhere
below three stars.

In the end we decided to go to New York, since there was a good chance she would end up there for the
next four years.

"You'll come see me every weekend, right?" she asked cheerfully.

"Of course." Unlikely, because I'm going to lose that privilege, dear Flora.

For me this trip might as well be the last time I ever went there with her. Every second was a count
down.
***

"I want to stay at Four Seasons near Fifth Avenue," Flora said. "I'm so excited! You haven't stayed with
me overnight for so long. I miss waking up next to you."

"I can't afford it."

She rolled her eyes. "I have a really big allowance for Christmas. I mean, huge. I know you secretly wish
that I wasn't born rich. It's like Janet complaining about her boyfriend being a doctor-to-be. You guys
just can't accept what you're lucky to have and be thankful about it." She tossed me the names of
several other luxury hotels to choose from just so I could feel like I had a choice, but they were all
ridiculously expensive.

She smiled at me in a tolerant way, like she found my financial situation endearing. "Sean, you act like
the idea of rolling on a Savoir bed and

Frette sheets would scald your skin."

"Flora, I really don't want to spend your money."

"Technically speaking, it's my parents' money."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. "Why is it okay for me to eat at your place all the
time, but it's such a big deal for you to accept favors from my family?"

"Because that's different," I said. "My mom is going to cook anyway, with or without you. You don't eat
much."

"Well, I'm going to stay at a five star hotel anyway, with or without you. You don't take up much space.
If it pleases you, you can book a hostel bed and we can meet every morning after breakfast."

I raised my eyebrows. "Good argument."

She chuckled and stroked my face. "Come on, let me spoil you." A kiss landed on my cheek. "You're
going to marry me anyway. My money is your money."

My stomach clenched. I was waiting for her to break up with me, and it was like some secret bad news
that she didn't know about yet. Flora flopped down on her bed, pleasant and unsuspecting, typing on
her MacBook Air for must-sees. She wanted to buy me clothes and even suggested getting me a tailored
suit. I told her I'd rather shop for her stuff.

"Well, I like your style," she said, running her eyes up and down my body. I was sitting backward with my
arms propped up against the back of the chair. "You look extremely hot even though you're just wearing
a raglan shirt and Converse. Besides, you're one of the rare species that look better without clothes
anyway."

I watched her change the search to women fashion and

Christmas shopping. It was pretty fun seeing her get all cute and eager over boutique shops. "Hey, I
almost forgot." She turned to me. "I have your Christmas present ready."
I got up to pick up my backpack from the floor. "I brought yours, too."

"I got two this year?" Her eyes widened as she pulled out two presents. Linda helped me wrap both of
them.

I sat down next to her. "I didn't go through Sandra so I'm not sure about either of these. I hope two
wrongs can make a right."

The first was a sleepwear set. It was just a short PJ instead of the sexy lingerie kind, but it looked nice to
sleep in.

"This looks so comfy!" she squealed as she hugged the material close to her body. She always acted
super excited whenever I gave her anything.

"It's for you to think of me when you go to bed," I said.

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I think of you all the time already."

I smiled. "Hey, if you like the first present then I'm confiscating the second."

"No way." She ignored me and started tearing open the wrapper. Her hands froze when the content
revealed itself.

It was a box of black and white puzzle. On the cover was an old couple standing on rainy pavement and
facing away from the camera, and off the corner, part of the Eiffel tower could be seen. It was an
antique photo taken during the mid-century. When I bought it I had foolishly believed we could go to
Paris together one day.

"Thanks." She sniffled. "You're really sweet. You remember I told you how my brothers didn't let me join
in their puzzle time."

"It's just therapy for your

short attention span."

I could detect tears in her voice when she said, "We'll go to Paris together one day."

"I hope so."

She pulled me toward her and wrapped her arms around me. When she kissed me, it was in a way that
seemed to suggest that she wanted to do this for the rest of her life. For the moment I allowed myself to
believe there was a sliver of a chance of us growing old together. I demanded for my gift when we broke
apart.

Flora beamed at me, and it was like staring at the sun. Her smile was bright and generous as she took
out a Louis Vuitton paper bag from her closet. The disappointment rapidly descending upon me was
hard to ignore. My heart fell, but I tried not to let my face fall as well.

After all this time, how could she still think I would want that? I'd rather she didn't give me anything.

"Wow, Louis Vuitton is like a boomerang," I joked. "It keeps coming back to haunt me."
My smile faded when I reached inside and my fingers came in contact with something soft. I pulled out a
scarf. It was knitted with thick wool and the color was azure mixed in with a hint of gray. There were
holes all over.

"I knitted it myself," she said, her smile embarrassed. "I restarted three times but I finally accepted this
is the best I can do. It's supposed to be the color of your eyes. But yours is of course nicer."

I ran my fingers through one of the holes and didn't say anything.

"Umm, the holes are unintended." Flora fidgeted. "Gosh, what was I thinking? You're too handsome to
be caught dead wearing something like that. It's against every fashion rule

in the universe."

I was still looking at the scarf without saying a word when she hastily reached out to snatch it from me.
"I'll give it to Edward. He deserves it by being mean to me--"

"Baby, I love it." I swallowed the lump in my throat and found my voice finally. I was literally speechless.
Flora understood me. She knew this was exactly what I wanted. She even knew she could mess with me
by putting it inside a designer bag. I leaned over to pull her in for an embrace, speaking into her hair and
trying to control the emotion in my voice. "Thank you so much. This is the best present I've ever got."

"You like it more than Louis Vuitton?" She laughed. "You need therapy more than I do. To be honest the
best part of the gift is probably the paper bag."

"I mean it. I'm really touched." I buried my face in her neck, allowing her jasmine perfume to pour at me
from all angles. "Thank you. I'm going to wear it every day in New York."

"Oh no you're not." She giggled in my arms. "Don't embarrass me like that in Four Seasons."

***

I lied to my parents again and told them a bunch of us were going on a trip together. They believed it,
for some reason, but Linda guessed what I was up to. She winked at me and told me not to go as two
persons and came back as three, and then offered to lend me money. I accepted her generosity since I
needed all the financial aid I could get.

I didn't want to argue with Flora about expenses anymore. I let her pay for the room and tried to pitch in
for everything else. I called the hotel in advance, and when we checked in there were chocolates

waiting. Flora was very pleased. She loved the plate of flower petals beside the bath tub too. For 72
hours I had a heavenly vacation where she decided everything, and I reminded myself to gasp in
amazement from time to time, even when she was just trying on shoes.

Our vacation was rich people's version of NYC, and Flora was dazzled. I suspected it wasn't entirely to do
with me. It was because of the city itself, the Christmas ornaments, the fancy department stores and the
display windows, the festive smell in the air, the fineries in life. She was happy. She didn't lose her
temper once, not even when I made a joke about not being able to hear her over the ringing cash
register when she ordered room service.
But to be fair, it wasn't all about money. We went to MOMA and made out on the deserted stairs. Took
a walk in central park where we engaged in a small scale snow fight and made snow angels. Had a
couple of really good coffee in Williamsburg, even though Flora was reluctant about leaving Manhattan
for Brooklyn at first. At night we sat by the window to savor the view, and she gazed at me with such
love in her eyes, saying we would do this every year. We took a bath together and she kissed me
everywhere. When we were in bed she whispered my name softly, repeatedly, like a wistful sigh.

How could this end? I thought in a daze as Flora leaned in to wipe the cream off the corner of my
mouth. We were having cupcakes in a park, and she was sweeter than the red velvet cake. How could I
want something this much, only to see it slipping away?

It was so unfair. I worked

so hard for this relationship, yet it still wasn't working. It dawned on me that Flora and I, we were so
good together on a vacation. It was easy when we were planning a party, when we were flying paper
airplanes, when we were on that overnight long date, when we were having non-stop sex at her beach
house, when we pushed everything else out of the way in the honeymoon phase, and when we were
spending Christmas holidays together in this fabulous city. It got hard when reality was shoved in our
faces, and our love didn't seem invincible anymore in the harsh light of mundaneness.

We would go back eventually, and that was when we would be torn apart.

She brought her camera with her so I took lots of photos, snapping away without thinking. I even kept
records of things like the clouds and piles of snow on the curb. I wanted to remember every minute of it.
Mostly I took pictures of her laughing. It was the best view in the city.

When our vacation was over and she was on her way to fly out to St. Bart's, I kissed her really hard. I had
a feeling it was the last.

"Thank you, baby," I said. I had a fleeting urge to cry.

"Four Seasons is really sensational, right?" Her eyes twinkled. "You'll never be able to enjoy anything
else again."

"Yes, I'll never be able to enjoy anything else again," I repeated, looking at her. I already had my perfect
ending with her in New York.

=================

Chapter 61 The tiramisu and the Kelly bag

Flora

It would be reasonable to predict that I, Flora Morgan, would not hold up well in a long distance
relationship.

When I had Sean beside me in NYC, every minute tasted like it was sugar-coated. I was floating on a
cloud and every time I glanced sideways he was there, tall and handsome and very much mine.

When our plane landed in St. Bart's, it started to turn sour. My parents generally gave us a lot of
freedom in our luxury resort, so consequently me and my brothers would all be out meeting potential
targets (friends, for me, and something less innocent for them). We would only join one another for
breakfast as we shared gory details over freshly baked croissants. I used to love it, but this time I missed
Sean so much I couldn't enjoy anything.

I sat by the pool half the time texting him, but he was busy doing family stuff in Miami. Over at his
grandparents' there were lots of holiday activities combined with lousy Wi-Fi reception, so Sean didn't
always reply back as eagerly as I hoped. I understood, but it didn't stop me from getting in a pissy mood.
Every phone conversation deteriorated into a fight, until I wasn't quite sure what the point of calling
each other was anymore.

I knew it was because of the contrast. I was too used to holding his hand all the time, and now I was left
with a gaping void. It felt like quitting some sort of hard drug cold turkey.

"You can't squeeze out twenty seconds to send me a text?" I accused one evening, pacing in my room,
all the while knowing I was acting stupid but I couldn't stop. It was like watching the

bimbo in a horror movie walking into a creepy garage; you know she shouldn't but she's doing it
anyway.

"Didn't I send you one in the morning?" Sean's tone was decidedly less patient than the last time this
subject came up, which was-fine, last night.

"That was like half a day ago."

He paused for a few seconds. "Flora, I don't want texting to turn into an assignment."

"I'm not asking you to hand in a paper. Just a quick I miss you would be suffice."

"If I really just texted that, you'd be mad." He made total sense, which of course made me madder.
"Besides, Christmas is a time for family. I don't want to check my phone all the time. It's rude."

"So now I'm rude, on top of everything else."

"Can you just be happy that your loving boyfriend calls you every night like he promised? I really do miss
you, you know that. Just..." He sighed. "Give me a break, please."

There were three sentences that irritated me the most in a conversation, which would be:

a. You are overreacting.

b. What do you want from me?

c. Give me a break.

These were also the three most frequent things Sean would say, in random order, and sometimes all at
once.

The call ended without getting completely out of hand. I told him I loved him, and even though it came
from the heart, it served more as a peace offering. He said it right back like an echo.

For the rest of the evening I spent my time cyber-stalking people, but my mind was elsewhere. I had to
wonder what would happen when we went off to college. He would be obscenely busy with
his engineering courses and frat parties, and he certainly wouldn't call me all the time either. When he
came to see me on the weekends, we would argue and he would try to comfort me and beg me to stop
crying. Gradually he would start to care less, until one day my tears would come to mean nothing to
him. It's called desensitization.

We would fall out of love, and he would disappear in my life.

"You look bored."

I was lost in my misery the next day, sitting by the pool, when a voice interrupted me. I tore my gaze
away from Sean's last message (sent five hours ago, if you must know).

A guy with olive complexion and green eyes smiled at me coolly. He was attractive, I'd give him that,
although not quite as much as Sean. "Do you want to go find the best tiramisu in St. Bart's?" he asked.

I frowned. "I have a boyfriend."

"What has that got to do with anything?" He sat himself down on the lounge chair next to me and
crossed his legs, with an ease that suggested he believed he could come, see and conquer like Julius
Caesar.

He had no idea who he was dealing with. If this had been back in my single days, I would've flirted with
him until he blushed. I ran my eyes from his tanned face down to the navy polo shirt then to the penny
loafers he was wearing. I even spotted a Patek Philippe around his wrist.

Rich and pushy. Those were two irrelevant traits my boyfriend lacked, but precisely because of that, I
felt a familiar sense of excitement rising up, like Aladdin's genie from the bottle. The blue genie nudged
me with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows, saying, Look.

Someone different.

He could turn out to be interesting, I decided, and I could smell the invigorating scent of adventure. Not
to mention I loved good Italian dessert.

But I wanted to be good now, for Sean.

"My boyfriend is just superbly wonderful, that's all." I sounded like a five-year-old bragging about how
their dad was the strongest man in the world.

He didn't give up. "He's not with you right now, and I bet he doesn't know about the best tiramisu in St.
Bart's."

Sean probably didn't even know what tiramisu was. He'd probably refer to it as some spongy chocolate
cake.

"I don't want to go, okay? Leave me alone," I snapped.

He got it, finally. The guy walked off in a huff.

I unlocked my cellphone screen. "My dear darling boyfriend I really miss you and I need you so much." I
texted Sean but he didn't answer me. Even my text wasn't funny anymore. I sounded desperate.
Whiny, even.

I went back to my hotel room alone. My brothers were both out probably banging whatever they caught
sight of, and my parents were off doing couples yoga. I actually thought hanging out with green-eyed
boy would be sort of fun, if not it would at least be a good distraction. I wouldn't consider it, however,
because I had to be a good girlfriend.

I felt proud of myself, I really did, but fifteen minutes later I was crying into the pillow.

Everyone thought I was living in a grand palace, and in it I had everything I needed. I had the perfect guy
and I was so sure he was everything I dreamed of, but right now I felt like I was standing on the balcony

of my golden palace, staring down. I wanted to escape to the field outside and roll around in the mud
and the rain.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped thinking about what I was getting from Sean. All I could focus on
was what I had to give up.

I was on vacation in a fabulous resort, wearing string bikini and lounging by the poolside, yet I freaked
out because a cute guy talked to me. That was when I finally understood the worst thing a girl could lose
in a relationship.

It was not a Kelly bag, not her reputation, not her guy friends, and certainly not virginity-

It was herself.

In order to love Sean, I had lost myself.

***

My mom came in my room later after she and my dad had dinner by themselves. They were always so
romantic like that, not getting tired of each other. I wished someday when I had three kids, I'd still place
my partner at number one, although speaking from the child's point of view it sucked sometimes.

"How's your evening?" She stretched her legs on my bed. Hanging out with my mom was a bit like
having a sleepover with a best friend. It was full of girly fun, gossip, fashion tips and no lecture.

"It was okay. How's dinner?"

She was smiling as she recounted every stupid thing my dad said. He honestly wasn't that funny, but she
adored the man along with his lame sense of humor.

"Mom, how do you know dad is the one?" I blurted.

She was completely unfazed by my question. "I still don't know, really. A part of me is still waiting to be
swept off my feet by an Italian man on a Vespa."

I chuckled. "Seriously! You married at 22!

Surely you were hit by true love and it made you want to settle down."
"Have you seen the rest of the guys I used to hang out with? I was left with very limited choices. And to
be honest, I was hit by Edward," she confessed and grinned. "We got really drunk one night and...I'm
sorry, am I setting a really bad example for my teenage daughter?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, I'm serious."

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? I thought you had an amazing time with Sean in New York."

"We did, and that's why it's so hard right now."

Her smile faded and her eyes turned soft. "Tell me all about it."

"It's a lot of things." I sighed and told her everything, how I loved him, how I hated myself, how we
fought all the time but promptly made up afterwards, and about what happened by the pool. Mostly I
spoke of how I couldn't be sure of anything anymore. "But Sean is a really good catch, right? You and
dad like him. He's the top in our class and he plays varsity basketball. He's really good-looking and he
even has cool parents and cool friends."

"You sound like you're writing his resume," she commented. "Surely you have more personal things to
analyze on."

"He has a noble heart. It's like, there's nothing dirty or indecent about him. He's just really perfect."

"I seriously doubt teenage boy and not dirty belong in the same sentence."

"Mom!"

"Okay, I mean, no one's perfect," my mom said with an amused smile.

"He's as close as anyone can get. I'm never going to do better than that."

"Sweetheart, sometimes the best isn't necessary the best choice," she said gently.

"All you need to know is if you're happy with him."

"I am...I think. I don't know." I let out a long breath. "I love him so much, but I'm starting to wonder if
love is the only thing that matters in a relationship."

She patted the back of my hand. "I can't tell you what to do, but if you need some time by yourself to
clear your head, then do it. 17 is way too early to decide if you've met the one anyway. You're still
allowed to make mistakes."

I nodded.

"I didn't know if your dad was the one when I met him," she said, "but gradually he did become it. It's
not because he's the best guy I've ever met, but because of everything we went through together, all
the memories. Those are the things that make him irreplaceable, you know? After all, we did raise three
little rascals together, and none of them bats an eyelash when spending our money. We have to bond
through battling our common enemies."

"I get it now. I'll talk to Sean when I get back." Just when she began to nod in approval, I grinned. "I'll tell
him apparently the only way to solve our problems is to have a baby together."
My mom kicked me and I laughed. "Kidding! You won't be a grandma just yet!"

"So is the wedding off temporarily? I'll ask your dad to call the printing company tomorrow and ask
them to hold the invitations."

I giggled. "Thanks, mom. That would be really helpful."

"I know what can cheer you up." She sat up. "I actually do know where to find the best tiramisu in St.
Bart's. And it's still open. Want to have a mother-daughter date?"

I smiled the most genuine

smile all day.

***

When we got back I went to see Sean at his house. It was the end of the vacation, and we were planning
on discussing our history presentation for the last time. It was, however, the last thing on either of our
minds.

I used to think Sean was brooding before we got together. I had marveled at how approachable he
looked when he finally smiled, with his beautiful blue eyes crinkling up at the edges. It had made me
think of cracking open an ice door to find a garden of blooming hydrangeas.

Now he smiled at me, but for the first time in a long time, I felt as if I was staring at him through thick
ice. He seemed out of reach and I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Hey, so, I brought you these to look at," I said. I held out a thick stack of photos we had taken in New
York. Sean really wasted a lot of storage space shooting meaningless stuff, but I printed them all out
anyway.

We sat down on the floor with our backs against his bed and went through all the photos together. I had
managed to look horrendous in most of them, especially when I laughed with my mouth opened too
wide. It would be safe to presume I wouldn't have a thriving career in modeling.

"That's so unfair. I took good photos of you, but you caught me at my worst moments!" I swatted him
on the shoulder. "It's like you were a paparazzi out to get me."

"You're really cute," he protested. He stopped when he came across a photo of me in St. Bart's, standing
on the beach. "That looks amazing. Was it fun there?"

"Not really. You know how miserable I was," I said. "Sorry for shouting at

you so much."

He smiled wryly. "That's alright. I can't sleep without you shouting at me before bed anyway."

Sean wasn't the kind of person to make a big deal out of it, but I knew I must have made his vacation
pretty terrible. Everybody has a limit. How long could he put up with me, really?

Going to New York had been magical, but it disintegrated and faded in the light of reality.
"Look, something happened in St. Bart's." I wasn't planning on saying anything, but the moment I
opened my mouth words tumbled out freely, the way clothes spewed out of my closet every time I
opened the door. I started pouring out about green-eyed boy, and Sean looked at me in dread, as if
waiting for me to announce I was infected with an STD.

"And then?"

"And then I told him I had a wonderful boyfriend, then I went back to the hotel room and wept."

Sean was too smart to not get it at once. "Well, sounds like your wonderful boyfriend isn't so wonderful
if the idea of tiramisu made you cry."

We were both quiet for a considerable length of time, measuring the weight of this sentence and trying
to pinpoint what it meant, until I broke the silence. "I'm not sure..." My voice was small, full of
uncertainty, like being called on in class for the answer of a math problem. "I'm not sure I want to do
this anymore. Maybe I should stop before I do something crazy and stupid to hurt you."

"Like what you're doing right now." He was strangely calm, like he wasn't even surprised.

"I can see us going downhill, and...I'd rather end early than badly. I can't bear the idea of us ending
badly," I said, my

voice catching. "We can't make it pass college."

"You have no faith." He sounded like he was just rehearsing a line.

"I want to be a better person for you, more sensible and mature...I want to be emotionally stable like
you...but it's really hard for me...it's making me unhappy, and it's making you unhappy too. We met too
early...right now we're wrong for each other. I'm too young, too stupid and I'm going to wreck this...I
need time to grow into the kind of person that deserves you." By then I was crying and rambling, unable
to stop either, not even sure I was making sense. "You are perfect and I love you, but...but I'm not ready
for perfection."

He took a long moment before he answered. "I'm not perfect. It's hard to hear you keep saying that
because I can't even argue back. I don't know what I can do to fix it."

"There's nothing to fix. You really are great the way you are, but I'm not ready to handle this. You're
like...a Kelly bag."

I had no idea why I said that, and Sean had no idea what that was. As I started to elaborate on the idea,
it became clearer that was exactly what he was.

Something exquisite, but not for me to own. At least not now.

"I got one as a birthday present when I was sixteen. It was something I had dreamed about forever, and I
thought it was all I ever wanted. I wanted to brag to all my friends, take a million selfies with it and
never leave home without it. But a while later, I realized I couldn't handle this bag. It was too rare, too
expensive. I worried excessively about getting it dirty and making a dent, not to mention

people judged me quickly for being a spoiled brat." I felt embarrassed telling him such a shallow story,
but I went on. "I finally had to sell it online, and when I found out I sold to an old lady with hideous
shoes and a mustache, it broke my heart, but I know it's the right thing to do. There's nothing wrong
with the Kelly bag. I just wasn't ready for it."

"Well, I'm not sure if I should be flattered that you think I'm a Kelly of all boyfriends, or be offended that
you think I'll wind up on the arms of an old lady with a mustache," Sean said, "but I think I get it. Kind of.
Right now you want several different bags to go with different outfits?"

"I think I should go bag-less for a while until I figure out myself."

He nodded. Even in the middle of such a serious talk, I marveled over the fact that we could
communicate like this. Sean hadn't lost his sense of humor, and he was as patient and understanding as
always.

"Can you give me some time?" I asked. I knew I was being selfish. "I still love you. I just need some time
apart to clear my head."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. A short break."

He shook his head. "If you love someone you don't keep them waiting. If you don't want me now, you'll
lose me."

"I just want a break, not a definite break up."

"That's exactly the same to me," he said firmly, just as I expected. Sean liked clear-cut answers. It was
either a serious relationship or nothing.

My tears welled up again. I knew it would hurt but I didn't know it'd hurt so instantly, like my insides
turned over. I wanted to puke. It was like

Spiderman forced to choose between saving a cable car full of children or Mary Jane; it was going to
hurt either way.

For a while I couldn't talk. I couldn't be with him but I couldn't be apart from him, either, and it was
impossible to decide. But then I thought of the alternative, that we learned to resent each other, or
worse, that we grew apart until the other person meant nothing.

"I guess we're breaking up," I choked out in between sobs.

"Are you sure, Flora?" he asked, almost serenely. "I don't want to break up, but once you decide I won't
say anything more to change your mind."

I wasn't sure at all. I felt like I was making a huge mistake, but after an eternity I nodded.

"I don't want to get caught in a make-up break-up cycle," Sean said. "This is it."

I nodded again.

"Okay," he said. "If that's your decision, then I accept."

He was utterly composed throughout the conversation, like we were just discussing what we'd have for
dinner and he was okay with anything. There was no bargaining. He just agreed.
We sat in silence, and then he picked up the photos I brought over again. This time he looked at them
with a slower pace, going over them one by one without saying a word. I was watching him, half
imagining him throwing those in my face.

His head was lowered, but suddenly I saw a teardrop roll down his perfect face.

I froze. For a second I was unable to react. I had never seen Sean even close to tears before. He was
always so poised, so in control of his emotions.

In that fleeting second I thought he had never looked nobler.

He

was just trying to make it easier for me.

He wiped the tear away, and a second later he was back to his usual self, as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry about that," he said. "I thought my tear ducts shriveled up back in third grade."

"Sean..."

"Can I keep the photos?" He looked up at me, smiling sadly as he said it.

"Of course." I nodded, my own tears falling each one quicker than the last. "Those are for you."

"Thanks."

Even at the end, Sean remained the perfect gentleman he was. There was no resentment, no yelling and
no anger. I couldn't find one bad thing to say about him. He was perfect all the way.

"Just so you know, I don't regret anything that happened between us," he said. "I still think the best time
of my life was spent with you."

"Me too." My voice cracked. "And I still love you. I'll always love you."

He smiled faintly and didn't answer me. After a short while he flicked his gaze to my face, and I saw the
lost little boy in his eyes again. "When...if you think of me, can you remember the good times?" he said
softly, and my heart constricted in pain. "Not that we fight a lot and I make you cry."

At that a fresh wave of tears hit me, and I was reminded of all the little things I loved about him. The
way he drove. The sound of his laugh. How he bit on his lip absently when he did his math homework.
The thoughtful gifts he gave me. How he was all about doing the right thing even though he could just
opt the easy way out. He was normally calm and confident, but when he showed me his vulnerable side
it melted me. How he was cocky and innocent at the same time. His kisses. His dirty jokes and lame
pickup lines. He was the sweetest, most earnest boy I had ever known, and every moment spent with
him was the best.

A sharp pang went through my chest. It was so hard to give up, but I knew I had to.

He got up and handed me some fresh tissues. "Stop crying, Flora. My parents are going to think I hit you
or something."

"Okay." I blew my nose. "Can we still be friends?"

He nodded. "Of course."

=================

Chapter 62 The history presentation

Sean

We had a dog when I was little. Strictly speaking it was Linda's dog, but she named it White Fang and her
responsibility ended there. White Fang wasn't a good name and it didn't stick, so we just called him Dog.
I took Dog out for walks all the time and fed him under the table. The nine-year-old me would proudly
tell anyone that listened how much I adored him, even more than I did my sister.

He fell ill in the end, but on some of the good days he would be in better spirits and could even run a
little. That was when I thought maybe he would pull through after all. Then he got worse. It went back
and forth for a while and we gradually lost hope, until it was just a matter of time before the inevitable
happened.

Just because it was expected doesn't mean we weren't heart-broken when Dog left us. It was back in
third grade and I hadn't thought of it for some time until now. It was bad comparing our relationship
with a dead dog, but I sometimes thought maybe Flora and I would make it. When we didn't, I wasn't
surprised at all.

But it still hurt like hell.

She couldn't stop crying. Every time I thought she was about to stop, a fresh supply of tears would
follow, like a creek flowing after the spring rain. I didn't trust myself to comfort her. With each painful
second that passed, the dampness in the room grew and I sank into somewhere darker. I felt a headache
coming on.

She said I was hers but now she didn't want me anymore. I watched Flora falling apart in front of me,
and instead of feeling a surge of emotions exploding in my chest, I felt as if everything

was sucked out of me.

The unbearable lightness in the room made it hard to breathe. I was full with emptiness and I wanted to
throw up. Other than that, a small thing at the back of my mind was starting to grow, and it was dread. I
dreaded what was to come now that I had lost her. I dreaded if I could ever get over her.

It wasn't just a break up. It was breaking up with Flora, the person who was supposed to take me to
Paris and straighten my tie before work everyday. The person who was supposed to always love me and
accept my love in return. She stood before me, looking at me longingly, and I thought of bitter rain
pelting against two hazel ponds.

She said, her voice shaky, "Can I hug you?"

I put my arms around her and held her silently for a while. Her tears seeped into my neck and burned
my skin like acid.
When she raised her head and our eyes met again, I knew she honestly cared about me and believed
she made the right choice for both of us. I wanted to hate her but I couldn't. I hated that I couldn't even
hate her. She reached up and stroked my cheek with her right hand.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she said.

I nodded. I liked it when she touched my face, and I liked her superficiality when she told me how cute I
was. I was missing her already.

Her arms tightened around me. I remembered every time we hugged, and each time it held its own
significance. When we drank coffee by the skating rink and thanked each other for being there. When
she came to pick me up at my house and we were relieved to get a second chance. When I found out we
broke

up over a misunderstanding and I thought I'd never let her go again. When we lay naked in bed
together, exhausted yet satisfied that we had someone to hold on to. When we chose each other
outside Jessica's house and promised we would never give up. When she gave me the best Christmas
present I had ever received, and I battled against the lump in my throat.

And finally, here we were, hugging for the last time to say goodbye.

She stepped away from me first and went over to sit by my desk. She didn't seem like she was in a hurry
to leave, and I wasn't ready for her to go yet, either. We both knew when she left it would be final. Right
now we were trapped in a parallel universe, where one thing didn't end and the next thing didn't start. If
we kept on sitting in this room together, we could relish whatever was left of us.

We were silent for a while, both unsure of how to act around the other person. There was nothing more
to say about our relationship. It was done. But there was still school and we were still history partners,
which was one last thing to tie us together. Saying corny lines in a romantic drama with the girl I loved
who just broke up with me. Well. We really were a twisted fairytale.

I asked her if she wanted to run through the play again, with the lightest, most casual tone I could
muster. Flora looked at me with an incredulous frown, like she couldn't believe I was actually in the
mood to talk medieval. I wasn't, but it was a safe and necessary topic to cover.

It took her a few seconds, and then her face cleared. I knew she got it.

Life goes on. We would be cool and

we would do our parts as professionals. We would be good sports, civil, and there would be no hard
feelings. We would try to be friends.

She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Have you memorized your lines properly?"

"Yes. I can't promise the acting will be convincing, but at least I'll deliver the lines with accuracy."

"Oh, that's all I ask of you anyway. Don't screw up the lines. The responsibility of setting the tone of this
story is in my hands," she said in her signature haughty way. "After all, school work is very important to
me and I need to get an A."

I laughed. "I'm sure I didn't sound so obnoxious when I said that."

She laughed too.

***

When it was finally our turn to present in history, I was surprised at how truly neutral I felt during the
whole thing. It was just school work to me. Flora was extremely good, every bit of the drama queen she
was and the whole class was gripped. Including Mr. Goleman.

The last line I had to say was, "So you are willing to throw everything away just so you can stay in the
medieval times with me?" And Flora would reply with the cheesy line of "What everything? You're my
everything."

Unfortunately she decided to improvise. When it was her turn to speak, she literally froze on stage and
stared at me.

"Hey, lady, I asked you a question," I said when it was clear she wasn't going to speak. I could make out
Janet's laugh in the background.

"I love you," she replied in a trance.

"...I'll take that as a yes?" Now is not a good time to act crazy on me, Flora.

"I

don't think we'd be perfect together," she mumbled. "I think we would be better off without each other,
even though I really love you."

What a twist, right? By then half the class were in fits of snickers, and Flora was unaware and getting
carried away in a martyr mood. Apparently she found it necessary to dump me again in history class;
making my life a living hell was still what she was best at.

I quickly got to her side and stopped her from spewing out further nonsense. "Okay, I get it. You can
catch the next plane out of here."

She snapped back in time and broke into a smile. "I mean, the modern world needs my impeccable
fashion sense, and you, as a knight of honor...you need to save several other damsels in distress." She
had given this drama some positive morals after all: don't sacrifice what you are good at for love. "We'll
be perfect each in our own worlds."

We were engulfed in applause, and even Mr. Goleman looked impressed. I supposed we were both
getting As.

Flora came to me after the class was over and apologized. Said she was sorry for going off script.

"That's why I don't like to co-star with amateurs," I said, mocking the good-natured snobbish tone she
used sometimes. "They tend to forget their lines and let their personal issues get in the way."

She chuckled. "I'm really sorry. When I look at you I just...Anyway, that went okay, right? Mr. Goleman
said we did a really good job."

"Yes, you're the best history partner of all time." It was the truth. Kind of.
"You know what? We need to go celebrate." She perked up, and the

light flicked on in her eyes. The light I used to love so much. "Let's go to Amber's after school!"

"I can't."

"Why? Are you doing anything later? If you can't make it today, tomorrow--"

"No, I'm not doing anything. I just don't want to."

Flora's eyes widened, and I was surprised she even needed to ask. "Why? This isn't a date, you know.
Just two friends hanging out."

I exhaled. Was this girl for real? "I know, but Flora, I'm really not ready yet. I don't think being alone is a
good idea right now." Especially if you try to feed me again.

"What? We can't even hang out now?" Her face fell like a plucked flower, the color draining away
rapidly. "Even being your enemy is better than this!"

"You need to give me some time to get over you, that's all."

"I thought we agreed to be friends."

"We are friends, Flora."

Just not in the way you're asking. Maybe in her world, she really was on friendly terms with all her exes.
They acted normal and ate ice cream and had a brilliant time together, but I knew I could never be that
kind of person. I would be nice to her and try not to make our friends feel awkward. I would smile at her
and make meaningless small talk in front of the lockers. I wouldn't say one bad thing about her, and
then after I went to college, I would never speak of--or to--her ever again.

Flora texted me later, and I deleted the message right away. I really didn't need that. I needed a clean,
precise break where we cut all connections.

***

We had a basketball game in the evening, during which we completely

crushed the other team. As we got ready to go, Jake laid a hand on my shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean? I thought I played really well today."

"I can tell when your mind is off the game," he said in a rare moment of sensitiveness.

"Well, I can't tell," Dylan piped up. "But what's wrong? Trouble with a capital F?"

I picked up my bag from the floor and slung it over one shoulder, deliberating. I wanted to tell them, but
I also wanted to sit on the information for a while longer. It felt less irreversible that way.

"Flora broke up with me," I said finally.

I could tell they were going to make some cruel jokes. They thought it was nothing serious. After Dylan
had abused the term breakup, the importance of it was significantly watered-down. To them it meant a
two-week lapse where I got a free pass to hit on other girls.

Dylan started first. "So is breakup sex really as good as they say it is?"

Jake shoved him with a smirk on his face. "Shouldn't you be the expert on that?"

"Can you please not joke about it?" I asked, not doing a good job of hiding my irritation. They were
always teasing me but I was almost never annoyed with them. I now knew it was because I never went
through a time like this before. "I'm really not in the mood for that."

Dylan shut his mouth.

"I wasn't going to joke about it," Jake said.

They both watched me as if I were a rabid dog that might bite them, then after a few seconds Dylan
said, "You'll get back together in two days."

"No. It's final."

"But why?" Jake asked. He even

looked sort of upset.

It was hard to explain so I just picked the simplest answer. "She thinks we're incompatible."

"Physically?" This came from Dylan. He insisted it was a serious question and that people split up all the
time because of it.

"No, not physically. Jesus, Dylan."

"It means she's rich and he's not," Jake supplied.

"It's not that either," I said. "I guess we just want different things in life right now."

Dylan shook his head. "You helped her study for the SATs, but she just wants someone to party with."

"No, it's not like that." It was hard to put into words, because part of me was also confused. She loved
me and I loved her. How had we come to this? Part of me, however, knew it had to happen, but I wasn't
ready to admit that out loud.

We walked out of the locker room. I checked for Flora's Mercedes out of habit, but there was no one
waiting for me outside.

"My Jeep is over there," Jake said lightly. He sighed as we headed toward that direction, which was
unusual because he was perpetually happy. "I'm depressed. You destroyed my faith in humanity and
high school love completely."

"You can still bet on me and Sydney," Dylan said.

Jake glanced at him briefly before turning back to me. "Like I said, you destroyed my faith in high school
love completely. You were the one couple that I actually liked. I thought you were going to make it."
"Sorry we didn't try harder for you," I said sourly to hide my appreciation. I thought he was going to tell
me that she was just a girl, because just was his favorite

word. It's just a game, Dylan. It's just a test, Sean. Sex is just sex.

"I mean it's like an era ended," Jake said. "I feel nostalgic."

Dylan was less sentimental about it. "The reason doesn't really matter. When it's over, it's over," he said,
being the veteran he was. "Are you okay, man?"

They both looked at me. I never really needed them to comfort me on anything, and I always thought I
could hold my own. This moment was scarce and foreign.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Come over to my place to play pool," Dylan said.

"I have a wicked bottle of absinthe, so get ready to meet the green fairies!" Jake grinned. He made it
sound really fun. "We can all crash at Dill's after we pass out."

"It's a school night," I said.

"Fuck school." Dylan opened the car door. "We're seniors. School doesn't apply to us."

So that night I let them console me in the only way they knew how, with their dirty jokes and a lot of
alcohol. It was the only way they needed to know, too. It worked. By the time we were half drunk, Jake
had cheered up considerably and was starting to see the bright side of things. He thought we could take
on Germany together in summer as single men.

"You can be my wingman," he said. "It's going to be so awesome!"

"You don't need a wingman, Jake."

"I still need you to translate the necessary exchange," he said. "Do you know how to say no strings
attached?"

"Start brushing up on your German," Dylan said to me with a slur. "The well-being of your friends'
reproductive organs is in your hand."

I used to think Flora would be

in my life forever, but Paris and New York were crossed off from my future list. However, there was still
going to be Germany.

It wasn't the same, but it made me feel better.

***

"I'm never speaking to Flora again," Linda announced indignantly when she heard of the news.

"Isn't she your favorite person in the world?"

"I'm taking your side and unfriending her," she said.

"Sis, there are no sides," I said. Linda showed her love for me in the strangest ways. "Besides, what
happened between me and her doesn't concern you."

"You're my brother! I want you to know that I have your back."

"If you really want to show your support, maybe you can wash my car for me."

Linda shook her head at me. "How can you not be mad at her? Not even a tiny bit? I mean you were
doing perfectly fine before without her, but now she's broken your heart completely."

"I'm fine." It was the sentence I practiced saying everyday.

"I hate her for making you sad," she said.

I didn't expect Linda to think of me as her hero or something, but I never expected her to pity me. "I
don't even hate her myself. I'm sad it ended, but at least it was on good terms."

"Are you holding a press conference? No one talks like that after a breakup." She sighed. "But at least
she didn't tell people you broke up because you're bad at sex."

"What a relief, right?"

It was nice to see Linda recover fully from her last relationship. She was having a good time at school
with the friends she made. She had also become a little more confident and mature, and I guess even
the bad kind

of relationships teach us something.

"But it would actually be easier, right?" Linda said. She somehow pointed out the exact thing I had been
turning over in my head. "I mean if Flora were a bitch who hurt you intentionally."

I nodded. There's a good reason why people hate their exes. It's a defense mechanism to protect
ourselves, because getting over someone good is so much harder. Flora had been a terrific girlfriend.
She tried hard. She ended it in time, and I knew she genuinely wanted to stay friends.

I picked a great person to break my heart. It was the best and worst thing about it.

Linda stuck a post-it note on my door everyday. They were tumblr quotes about heartbreaks, and it was
her way of telling me that I wasn't alone.

***

I got in the passenger seat of Janet 's car. She offered to take me to a loud concert so I'd be able to
numb my thoughts, even though I already knew that they were hiding somewhere unreachable.

A song was playing on the radio. I listened absently until I heard the lyrics.

Maybe we're trying, trying too hard, Maybe we're torn apart

Maybe the timing is beating our hearts, We're Empty

"Ugh, you don't need this right now." She switched the channel.

Please don't let me go, I desperately need you.

She groaned. "Where's an uplifting song when you need one?" She selected through several channels
and finally decided on one. "Arctic Monkeys. This should be promising."

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours

Wincing

at the words, I reached out to switch off the radio.

"Cheer up, Kelly," Janet said.

I had to smile at that. Trust Flora to tell all her friends about the stupid designer bag analogy. "I have a
feeling you're going to call me that."

"That's a pretty glorified way to give you the 'it's not you it's me' line."

"Don't forget 'I'm not ready for perfection'. That has got to be the ultimate breakup line. I must
remember to write it down."

Janet smiled. "Flora has a real future in script writing. She just doesn't realize it yet."

I was glad Janet acted the way exactly I needed her to be. No condescending I-told-you-so. No unwanted
sympathy. No false promises of how I would get over her soon and find someone better.

"You had a pretty good time together while it lasted, right?" she asked. "Considering the circumstances.
You don't really have that much in common."

"I don't know. I think I'm attracted to her crazy energy although I can't keep up. It's like...she can spend a
good fifteen minutes telling me about her salon trip, tossing out phrases like scalp treatment and
highlights and essential oils...you know, frivolous things I have absolutely no interest in...not to mention
she ends up looking exactly the same. But the point is, I actually like hearing her go on about it, and I like
the radiance in her when she talks...she always has a very intense expression like we're talking about
important world issues...and I like how she bosses me around on food. I always thought it didn't matter
we like different things." I caught myself and stopped

abruptly. It wasn't like me to ramble on like that. "Anyway. It's not important anymore."

Janet shook her head. "Uh-oh. Just now you had a faraway look in your eyes. It's pretty hard to watch."

I leaned back on the seat. "Maybe I should start having meaningless sex all the way to college, and when
I go to college I'll have more meaningless sex."

"Yes," she agreed. "You know, spread that perfection around."

I smiled and we fell into a comfortable, much-needed silence. After a moment I said, "How are you and
Brian doing? I need to hear some inspiring story about love."

"Well, me and Brian is great, but me and Brian's parents, not so great."

"They still don't approve of you?"

"My love life is based on a Nicholas Sparks novel," she said. "Teenagers in love for the first time, torn
apart by parents. It's bad enough I'm not studying premed, but they hate the idea of a high school
graduate even more. I mean, I don't think I'll go to college right away."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, the thing is...and you can't tell anyone because I haven't decided yet..." She took a small breath.
"I've been offered a record deal."

"Seriously?" I felt a huge grin spreading across my face. "That's unbelievable! Congrats!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty psyched," she said. "The record company only wants me, though. They're telling me to
ditch the rest of my band. What do you think?"

"You know me. I don't believe in sacrificing the chance of success for the sake of emotional burdens," I
said. "And to be honest you are much better than the rest of them."

"That's not how Brian sees it.

He thinks they're family, and it's a lousy thing to do to betray your family. We almost got into a fight for
the fact that I'm even considering it."

"Betray? Betray is a little harsh," I said. "I don't want to be mean, but it makes sense. You're the star and
they are kind of...replaceable."

"Oh, you certainly don't replace your family, either."

"I think your family should understand and not hold you back."

She shrugged. "I guess, but we did start out together in Andrew's basement, and it's going to be weird
flying solo. I'm still thinking. I don't want to hurt them."

"But that's growing up," I said. "You get hurt, then you get over it and give your blessing."

"I know." Janet nodded at me, and as usual she just completely understood. "I'm proud of you, Sean."

***

The aftermath of a breakup wasn't dramatic or remotely interesting. It was slow, repetitive, and quite
frankly, boring. I knew mourning was boring, so I did it alone. When I was with people, I practiced faking
it.

I laughed at Jake and Dylan's dumb jokes, because I knew it was their way of saying it's not that big a
deal. I collected Linda's post-its from my door and added them to a growing pile, then I replied with a
smiley face and a lie about how I was better. I listened to the playlists Janet carefully selected for me,
full of uplifting songs about life and freedom. I laid down my perfect report card in front of my parents,
assuring them my grades weren't suffering, and neither was I.

But in those snippets of life where I was alone, I mourned.

I missed her when I

drove to school, stopping at the intersection, wondering if she remembered to flick the blinker. I missed
her when I showered, watching the way water dropped and trickled down the drain after I turned off
the shower head. I missed her when I went to the movies, accidentally ordering caramel flavored
popcorn before remembering I didn't even like caramel. I missed her before I fell asleep, watching the
darkened ceiling, fighting back silent tears as I asked to oblivion,

Dear Flora, how are you?

Sometimes I almost wished she had done something really bad to me so I could hate her. How could I
move on when she was still the best girl I had ever known? I wanted her to be the one responsible for
ruining this relationship, not me. I wanted to be able to sum up the breakup easily: that it was her fault.

And in a way, that was the hardest part about the breakup. That I caused it. That I ruined it for both of
us.

=================

Chapter 63 The Gatorland excursion

Flora

"I still can't believe this," Sandra repeated for the fifth time that night. I expected her to say something
catty or just plain mean, but she seemed to be lost in perpetual shock. "I can not believe this. You broke
up with him over a random tiramisu guy?"

I sighed from my bed. "You just don't get it."

We had already gone through the bawling (me) and the comforting (mostly Carmen), and now the
interrogation phase started. To be honest I questioned the decision myself, profoundly and constantly,
and after seeing the reaction from my friends, the feeling of having done something ridiculously wrong
became stronger than ever.

It was like comparing answers to an exam; I wasn't entirely sure I put down the correct choice in the first
place, and now everyone was telling me it was D instead of B.

Ever since the breakup, I wore the PJ's Sean gave me and cried myself to sleep every night, thinking of
him till it felt like I was ripped apart. Missing someone was the scariest feeling--

"I think that guy sounds like a creep and you made a humongous mistake." Sandra propped a pillow
against her back before reaching out for more ice cream. "I'll just go ahead and say what everyone's
thinking. You're going to regret this."

"I don't really understand either," Carmen said softly. "I thought you guys loved each other?"

"Love can't solve every problem."

Sandra snuck a quick glance at Carmen. "Well, unless he's 42 and married, I don't see what the problem
is."

At this point Janet interjected and told me she understood,

but Sandra didn't let her finish before starting again with her rants. It was like I personally offended her
by breaking up with a guy she deemed merely tolerable before.

"I think the whole incompatibility issue is bullshit," she said. "It's not like he slaps you every time you
mention the word Michelin. Besides, he's just asking you to refrain from locking yourself in a room with
Raymond Corbett, a guy with questionable morals and intentions, I might add, and that's completely
reasonable."

"Sandy, can you just tell me you support me?" I pursed my lips. "I feel bad enough as it is. I thought you
didn't like me with Sean."

Her eyebrows shot up. "I never said that! I said you were obsessed with him. It's like being addicted to
social media or Xbox. I suggested that you learn to be more in control and manage your time better, but
you went ahead and deleted every account! Extreme much?"

"Deleting is actually very effective," Janet said. "I want them to stay together too, but right now Flora's
got to put herself first."

"True love survives a little time apart, right?" Carmen said, her face wistful but her tone skeptical, like
convincing a child of Santa's existence. "Maybe you're better off alone for the time being, and in the
future you can find a way to be together again. I heard this saying that sometimes a person has to go a
very long distance out of his way to come back a short distance correctly."

"Pfft. Do you honestly believe that?" Sandra's shiny blonde head shook like a rattlesnake. "You can
always reactivate an account, but once you lost a person, you lost them

for good."

"Maybe he'll want to marry me if we're both still single at 28," I said. My lame attempt of a joke didn't
even amuse myself.

Sandra looked at me gravely, like she was my fairy godmother and had just caught me wearing rags for a
ball. "Sean's not even going to wait till prom, honey, and after he goes to college, it's a lost cause, even if
MIT isn't exactly a modeling agency. Guys like him don't stay single for long. He'll meet someone who's
simple and easy to handle, like...pizza, and when he marries pizza girl someday, you'll whine about why
he doesn't appreciate a French cuisine type of girl such as yourself."

She snatched my phone from the bedside table, and instead of deleting my texts, she thrust it in my
hand. "Call him! Tell him you miss him and you want him back. Recycling is good for the environment."

What happened to dignity, pride, playing it cool and owning the title dumper? Sandra's breakup advice
had always been something along the lines of laugh extra hard to show you're doing great without him
or how do you like your college rebound guy, but now she was asking me to beg?

Not that I wasn't tempted to, but I knew it would be unfair to Sean.

"Flora, you should just leave him in peace," Janet said with a hint of warning in her tone.

I nodded. I already knew Sean wasn't going to pick up the phone.

You know sometimes people have to have their legs amputated before the germs or whatever spread
through the whole body? I knew an amputation would hurt, but I chose it because it was better than
gradually perishing. What

I didn't expect was how easily it could backfire.

I had clearly underestimated Sean's determination about staying friends. We had become friends in the
broadest, most meaningless sense, the most indifferent kind, the exact opposite of love and what we
were.

He never returned any of my texts. When I ambushed him at his locker, he gave me those forced smiles
he saved for irrelevant girls who hit on him. Every time I tried to talk to him, he would answer politely
and report on impersonal things like his basketball game scores. He was composed and distant like a
news anchorman.

There was nothing special left between us anymore.

We were now familiar strangers. And that, to be written off entirely from his life, hurt more than
anything.

My friends were supportive even though they all thought it was a pity to let him go. They talked about
Sean like he was a precious art piece at Sotheby's and someone outbid me; he seemed that much
greater now that he turned from the one to the one that got away. As to his friends, whenever I passed
their table at lunch, I felt a wave of hostility. It was most certainly imaginary, but it would be fair to say
I'd never feel comfortable to pull out a chair again and join them.

Raymond called one morning during winter break. We never talked about the fact that we could hang
out alone again. He waltzed right back in my life like he never left. "You need something fun to cheer
you up," he said. "I'll take you out."

Half an hour later he showed up at my door, and we insanely embarked on an out of state trip to
Gatorland. Raymond's

idea of fun was gliding down the infamous Screaming Gator Zip Line where we soared over alligators
and crocodiles at top speed.

"Your problem is nothing a little dose of reptiles can't fix," he said.

Who needed chocolate ice cream to produce endorphins when we could recruit a full on adrenaline
rush, right? The approach was drastic but it worked. As our carnivore friends snapped their teeth
affectionately at our feet, I felt spontaneous and liberated, like my old self.

Carrie Bradshaw once said in an episode of Sex and the City, "After a break-up, certain street, locations,
even times of day are off-limits. The city becomes a deserted battlefield, loaded with emotional
landmines. You have to be very careful where you step or you could be blown to pieces."

She was right. It was weird how I used to think we only stayed in, but now without Sean, it appeared
that memories were scattered throughout the city. I'd stumble upon one of those carelessly and break
down. This was why I made Raymond promise that we would steer clear of anywhere that might remind
me of Sean, and he delivered.
What I didn't know was that emotional landmines were sneaky little things that could blow up in your
face unexpectedly, no matter how hard you tried to avoid them.

I was getting out of my harness when I heard Sean's voice in my head. Baby, I just want to date you. I
can do without the crocodiles unless it's a purse you're carrying.

And just like that I was blown to pieces. The pain was overwhelming, and I literally had to lean against
the wall to steady myself. Raymond

and I were planning on checking into a twin room and watching TV all night, but he took one look at me
and made his trademark disgruntled noise.

"You're not going to cry, are you? I'm really bad at comforting people."

"No." I turned my face away slightly.

"Good." He nodded. "I bet you look ugly when you cry."

I'd be naïve if I expected him to say something nice, since I was one of the few people he felt
comfortable showing his true colors in front of, but I automatically thought of how flustered Sean would
be in the same situation and felt even worse.

"I really miss him," I said in a small voice.

"Look," Raymond said. "We can go back right now if you want."

"But we just got here."

I thought he'd be annoyed. He had the whole two days planned, and here I was, acting like I was
auditioning for a sob-fest movie. But he only shrugged.

"I don't mind," he said. "The whole point of coming here is to get your mind off Mr. King, but now I see
it's not gonna happen. You can't get any more fun than me and a bunch of crocodiles, but fun is
overrated anyway. Let's go."

There were no bookable flights for the day so we hopped on a bus and took forever to get home. It was
crowded and the seats too stiff, but at least it was heading towards the right direction. Raymond didn't
complain much. He made cruel observations about the man sitting in front and his smelly feet, told me
all the jokes he could think of, and even though he somehow wasn't as hilarious as I remembered, I
appreciated the effort.

"Why are you so nice to me?" It was a long ride

so I asked. "Are you just pretending to be my friend so you can swish in and catch me at a vulnerable
moment?"

He snorted. He was eating a bag of chips and getting crumbs all over himself. I could honestly say I didn't
feel the least bit of sexual tension between us, like ever, but I wanted to make sure.

"I enjoy the company of people with deluded self-confidence," he said. "It's a good form of exercise for
my brain."
"Seriously. I'd feel so betrayed if you had a secret crush on me."

"I don't, girlfriend. It's my policy not to make a pass at friends who can pay for plane tickets. You know
what they say, if you sleep with everyone, sooner or later you end up with no one to go to Gatorland
with."

"It makes me feel so much better that you're just here for my money."

He stuffed another handful of chips in his mouth. "Besides, if I came on to you, Sandra would never give
me a chance."

"What? You like Sandra? My Sandy?"

He chewed noisily. "That's a big part of the reason I want to be prom king, because I get to dance with
the queen. Yup, I'm romantic like that."

My fingers twitched. I wanted to text Sandra so badly right now, but as a good spy I needed to gather as
much information as I could. "You do know that Sandy's in a steady relationship and she really...dislikes
you."

"The steady relationship part I'm not worried about. They'll fall apart on their own," he said with his own
supply of deluded self-confidence. "As to her hating me...does she mention it a lot?"

"Like every chance she gets."

A lopsided grin spread across

his face. "Then it's working."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're not like those immature boys in middle school who picks on girls they like,
are you?"

"Sandra is just like middle school girls. She acts tough, but deep down she wants approval just like
everyone else. Her lack of confidence makes her bitchy," he said. If Sandra ever heard this, she'd
sentence him to be run over by a bus immediately. "She wants people to be intimidated, yet here I am,
someone who openly challenges her, and she can't stop thinking about me."

I burst out laughing. "Good luck there. When you fail miserably, I'll pay for Gatorland again."

The bus stopped, and the man with smelly feet stood up to get off. Raymond hopped out of his seat to
help carry down his luggage. He even started a short conversation about the weather and wished him a
pleasant journey, and I almost expected him to say thank you for traveling with us. He deserved a tip for
his performance.

When Raymond sat back down, he rolled his eyes and whispered he could finally inhale again.

Sean would never make fun of other people's feet, I thought. He would never smile at someone and
make comparisons about chicken poo a second later. He'd be minding his own business (and looking
absolutely gorgeous doing so).

I loved that about him, but I realized at the same time that he wouldn't offer to help either. His
aloofness was a merit but also a flaw. While Raymond may be an insincere Mr. Nice Guy, he did make
the man's day a little brighter. He acted kind and spread positivity. I never thought of it that way before,
but it

was actually more mature than fake of him to do so.

Sean had also misjudged my friendship with Raymond, who was a friend, a good one, and nothing more
than that. He cared about me and wasn't just lurking around so he could get in my pants. Maybe we
should set some boundaries once I got in a relationship, but it wasn't fair to just tell him to suck it up
and swallow his hurt feelings.

This was the first time I dared consider that Sean wasn't perfect and he wasn't always right. I thought of
how I convinced myself that I needed to change and how I instantly backed away from a fight because I
wanted his love too much. I was afraid to argue with him on the things that mattered, but pestered him
unnecessarily about things that didn't. I shied away from important issues but picked on him about the
food he liked and the frequency of his texts.

That was what I did wrong. That was why we didn't work.

Newton's third law of motion is that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I pushed
too hard, and consequently it pushed us apart. Like all things in life, there should be a balance and just
the right amount. Loving him the wrong way and abusing his love for me ultimately led to our downfall.

Raymond's mouth was still opening and closing as I had my epiphany. "I figured it out, finally," I said.

"Figured what out?" He shook the bag of chips in front of me.

"How to save our relationship," I said. "I'm going to see Sean."

He nodded, calm and matter-of-factly, like he was just waiting for me to say it. "Don't worry, I bet he
wants to see you too," he said.

"Especially if you dress up like a sexy nurse to freeze his brain, or whatever he's into."

"Madame Curie, I suppose. Wish me luck?"

"You don't need luck. I'll just congratulate you when you get back together, even though it's going to
suck for me after that happens."

"It's going to be different this time," I promised, and I felt hopeful. I reached over to grab some chips
from the bag. "Hey, maybe we can all hang out together someday. You, me, Sean and Sandy."

He laughed. "I wouldn't count on it, but that's certainly something to look forward to. Now go get him."

If my life were made into a movie, this would be the part where I stood up and deliver a speech that
moved the whole bus, the driver would pull up right outside Sean's house and all the passengers would
root for me. We would end up kissing in front of everyone, spinning and in slow motion, of course, and
they would clap and cheer despite my awful mess of hair and makeup.

That didn't happen, so I had to run all the way to his house myself. My hair was all over the place
though; that part was just like in the movies.

Sean froze upon answering the door.

His eyes were pale and tired. They were a sad lake wrapped with a veil of fog. There was nothing
physically different about him, but the air of melancholy around him made me want to hug him
immediately.

"Flora," he said.

"I made a mistake." I was panting hard, but I got the words out. "We shouldn't have broken up."

At first he didn't answer, then he rubbed his palm over his eyes. "I asked you if you were sure."

"Yes,

but it was a rash decision. I realized something now, and I know how we can fix this-"

"It wasn't a rash decision," he interrupted me for the only time I could remember, when it had always
been me who did the interrupting. It was with total composure, however, like it was due to disinterest
instead of impatience. "I know you did some serious contemplating before you brought it up, and to be
honest I anticipated it coming. Your coming here now is a rash decision."

"No...no...I'm sorry. Tell me it's not too late. I know you still love me too."

"I love you." He was staring at the ground when he said it, but I didn't miss the fleck of pain in his eyes.
"But Flora, I told you. I can't keep doing the make-up break-up thing. You broke my heart for too many
times already."

It wasn't an accusation, just a statement, which made it that much worse. I could tell I shattered his faith
in us. I hurt him more than I imagined, to the point of being irreparable.

I started to cry. Bad negotiations skills, I knew. But I couldn't help it.

I had a speech prepared that would move him if only he could hear it. I wanted to tell him that we came
too far to give up like this. I'd tell him that things would get better, that I learned some very important
lessons while being apart from him, and that I'd wait for him when we went to college. We'd be apart
physically but we'd grow closer, and every time we saw each other it'd be better than the last. He could
take me to the burger joint he found in Boston, if he promised to let me pay for dinner at Per Se when
he came to NYC to visit.

We

would get better at this, because we were a great pair, the best partners, and a perfect match. He said
so himself. With his intelligence and my creativity, we could solve anything.

I even had the words from A Tale of Two Cities memorized, the only book we read together. It was the
best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had
everything before us, we had nothing before us...

It's a lot like being away from each other, don't you think, Sean?

If only I could get the words out. My script fell apart and rose up into sobs. I couldn't say anything
intelligent, and it only reminded him of what it was like when we were together.

"Please, Flora, don't do this to me," Sean pleaded as he averted my tears.

"Give us a chance," I choked out. "We can't end like this."

I wanted a Hollywood style cliché ending, but this was turning out to be the type of pretentious French
film Sandra watched. The sole purpose was to rip your heart out.

He lifted his gaze finally and looked at me, then he gave me a small, sad smile. I could see from his face
that nothing I said would change his mind again.

"I'm sorry."

The sound of the door clicking shut was soft, but there was a sense of finality to it that was hard to
ignore. I collapsed on his porch and cried until I accepted that I would never get him back again.

***

Carmen poured two glasses of iced tea and slid one across the counter. She nodded at the light red
liquid encouragingly, as if a sweet beverage solved all problems.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Not

really." I stabbed at the bottom of the glass with my straw, where a clump of sugar had yet to
disintegrate. "It feels so pointless. I can't believe we'll never go to Paris together or argue about who's
going to take out the trash."

Whoever said that don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened had obviously never dated
Sean before. For the weeks to follow, I cried less and no longer woke up with a heavy rock placed on my
chest, but I fell into a state of constant sorrow. If the acute stage of breaking up felt like screaming at
the top of my lungs in agony, the aftermath was like writing a sad letter with no one to address to.

Carmen had been a real sweetheart. She listened over lemonade, milk tea, orange juice, chai latte, and
finally over iced rooibos tea as I moaned and moped all spring.

"I want to tell you something," she said, drawing circles in the liquid with her straw.

"Yes?"

"I don't have a 42-year-old boyfriend."

I looked up. "You mean you broke up?"

She let out a small breath of air. "No, I...um, I never had one to begin with."

"Excuse me?" I almost choked on the tea. Carmen didn't talk about her relationship much, but every
time she did, she had to shock me into asphyxiation.

"I don't know why I lied. I guess it's because I feel like you guys are always trying to fix me up with
someone, especially with Alan, since we're the only two singles left and it's convenient to squish us
together or something."

I was still trying to process this information and gaping, so Carmen continued. "I know you had good
intentions,
but you made me feel like a loser for not having a boyfriend. It got a bit annoying and you wouldn't back
off. When Mr. Richardson walked in the cafeteria right then, I got an inspiration and just went with it. I
based my fake boyfriend on him."

"Carmen, that's ridiculous," I said as my heart rate calmed down slightly. "Mr. Richardson is 30, not 42."

"Really? He doesn't look 30! I thought I'd pretend to date someone...off limits, otherwise you'd keep
asking to meet him. It's fun to see your faces when I said he had a wife, though."

Who knew Carmen had such a naughty side? You think you know someone, but you can never be sure.
I'd never seen her annoyed, either. Being pleasant was her default mode, and the fact that she had to lie
made me feel awful.

"You could've just told us," I mumbled, thinking of how many times Carmen had done just that. "We
don't think you're a loser. We just think boyfriends can be pretty great, so we want you to share that
experience. We don't want you to miss out, that's all."

"I know, but I'm fine with being single right now. I'm not in any hurry. I don't even have my first kiss yet."
She picked up her drink, watching the ice clinking against the glass before setting it back down again.
"Plus I kind of have a crush on Dylan."

My good lord. This is top quality gossip. "Can you just tell me everything already? My poor heart can't
take all these surprises." I winked at her. "You like tattoos, right?"

"Not because of that. I saw him with his mom once at a diner. Most people our age are embarrassed to
be seen with their parents,

but he just seemed so comfortable about it. He wasn't just acting bored and checking his phone, either.
He was really talking to her. I find that adorable."

She told me a few more things, and I realized it wasn't kind of a crush. It was a big one, the kind that
required measures to be taken upon.

"What should we do about it?" I tapped a finger against my chin. I had a certain amount of loyalty
towards Sydney, but they were a horrible couple. Anybody could see that. "We need an attack plan! I
have a good feeling about this, actually. I think Dylan likes curvy girls."

Carmen heaved a sigh. "I think I'm more chubby than curvy, but that's not the point. I didn't tell you
because I want help. I told you to let you know that it's okay to like someone and not do anything about
it."

"It's not okay! We'll break them up," I joked. "You know it's true love when you have to steal him away
from someone else."

"I'm not sure we'd suit each other, and besides, what do you really know about them? Maybe they have
a deep bond that no one else understands. You can't really judge a relationship unless you're the ones in
it," Carmen preached just as I expected. She just had to take everything so seriously. "The thing is, I like
having a crush on him this way. From afar, and in secret. That's enough for me."

"But what's the point of a crush if nothing comes out of it?"

"That's like saying there's no point of a relationship if you don't end up married. No point in learning
about math in school if you're not going to be an architect."

"Math really is pretty pointless,

if you ask me, and sometimes I wish I never started anything with Sean."

"Flora. I really like you together, you know that. I think he's a great guy. But just because it's over
doesn't mean it's all for nothing. No one can take away the good memories, right?"

"Memories are all I have left now," I said quietly. "Memories and an astronomical amount of pain."

"He might not be the person who holds your hand till the end, but you shared a beautiful time together.
I know it's not right now, but someday, when you think of him you'll smile." Her voice was soothing, and
I liked her hallmark card kind of advice more than I thought I would. "You're lucky that your first love is a
wonderful person that only wants the best for you, and you only want the best for him, too."

I nodded. By then my eyes had grown moist again, and I had to nod slowly so the tears didn't spill.

"How could you say that you wish you never started? That's the worst thing you could've said about a
person who loved you like that."

She let me think about what she said, and we finished the rest of our drinks in silence. It was the nice
kind of silence, where any word exchange would seem redundant, just like a blank piece of paper too
impeccable to be drawn on.

"I just realized something," I said eventually. "No wonder you were so cooperative when I forced you to
sit through basketball practice with me. You weren't there for me. You were there for your own selfish
reason!"

She giggled. "What can I say? I like killing two birds with one stone. Supporting my friend and watching
my

crush at the same time seemed like a good deal to me."

She poured me another glass of iced tea. I wasn't the kind of person to thank her with something sappy,
but what she said, I listened.

***

We started hearing back from college admissions offices. Jessica got in Brown University like she
expected, but Sarah only got waitlisted. In order to pull up her grades, we met at a coffeehouse so she
could study.

When I walked in and saw the hot hipster barista they texted me about, my jaw almost dropped.

"That's just Nicholas Ridge," I whispered as I sat down. "Oh my God. You're both so thirsty you're seeing
mirage."

They looked at me with widened eyes. "You know him?"

"He goes to our school, and he's one of Sean's friends," I said. "He's nowhere near hot, by the way."
"He may not be the underwear model kind of hot you're into, but he can probably do a Paul and Joe ad
campaign," Sarah argued. "He pulls off that European vintage style."

"He's Dr. Reid kind of hot," Jessica said.

I snorted. "I think he looks like Waldo. From the picture book Where's Waldo."

Jessica and Sarah were still gushing over his thick-rimmed glasses and skinny jeans when he came over
to take our order. They had reached the false conclusion that all the guys of Riverside High were of the
finest quality.

"Hi, Nick," I said, a little uneasily, because I was under the assumption that all Sean's friends hated me.

He smiled. "Good to see you here, Flora."

He acted totally normal, I decided. He accepted the challenge when Sarah asked him to make her
something

special, and answered all Jessica's questions about where he bought his clothes (thrift shops) and if the
tiffany blue fixie outside was his (it was).

"I like your shirt," I said truthfully, joining in the conversation. It was pink with prints of tiny airplanes. "I
never knew you could find something like that in a thrift shop."

"You've never gone thrifting before?" he asked.

"Flora has a phobia of second-hand clothes," Sarah said helpfully.

"I don't like coming in close contact with items other people have touched previously," I said. It wasn't
because of the price, and I didn't want Nicholas to get the wrong idea. "I like new things."

He nodded with an amicable smile. "How about bills? Or the mug you're drinking from right now?"

If this had come from someone else, I'd have thought that they were trying to sass me. Not Nicholas,
however. He just seemed genuinely curious. He was candid and friendly, especially considering that he
was from Sean's side, so when my friends started studying, I went up to the counter to chat with him.

I wondered what Sean was doing right now. Probably something not hipster-y at all, like bench press.
Since the break up, I was disconnected entirely from his life. None of his friends would talk to me about
him, including Janet, like they were trying to protect him from me.

Nicholas seemed like the last thing to string us together, an indirect link too precious to pass up on.

"Do you know what Sean is up to lately?" I asked.

He barely looked at me as he reached for a mug behind the counter. "Getting

up and going to school, I think."

I tried to pry the best I could, but all I managed to get out from him was one, Sean didn't hate me, and
two, he now spoke German a lot better.

"I just want to know if he's doing okay."

"What he told me is between us," Nicholas said. "You know that, right?"

He seemed utterly comfortable with brushing me off as he proceeded to make coffee. I sat down at one
of the bar stools and watched him fuss over the latte art.

"You seem bored," he said finally. "Would you like to read a book?"

"I don't read much. I don't like books in general."

"That's not possible. Books are stories. How can you not like a story?" He sounded surprised, but not at
all condescending.

"I watch movies, but books are boring."

"You just haven't found the right one." He took a few steps away to the bookshelf, and when he came
back he laid down a book written by a guy called Haruki Murakami. He flipped to a page titled On Seeing
The 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning.

"Read it." He tapped his index finger on the word Perfect.

I had nothing else to do so I did. It was only two pages long anyway.

"This is the saddest thing I've read in a while," I said after I finished it.

"Why?"

"Because they were the 100% perfect girl and perfect boy for each other, a cosmic miracle, but they
tested each other and parted. When they met again, the guy was too timid to say anything to her, so
they lost each other once again, and for the rest of their lives they would only experience 75% or 85%
love." I placed my palm over the book. "Wait.

Are you trying to tell me something?"

"I'm not, actually." He poured a small cup of milk foam over a cup of coffee. "I don't think it's sad. I think
it's possible that they think of each other as 100% perfect precisely because they didn't last, but as it
said in the story, it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were."

"I wasn't aware I had the ability to take part in such a profound discussion," I said.

He smiled. "Care to read something else?"

He gave me a thin book by Françoise Sagan, Bonjour Tristesse, which means Hello Sadness, and told me
Sagan reminded him of me.

"People call her a charming little monster. She was amazed by life, but she was impulsive and
headstrong, as if she could throw it all away. She lived for love and she followed her heart," he said.
"She once said, 'Money may not buy happiness, but I'd rather cry in a Jaguar than on a bus', and that
loving someone to the point of madness is the only sensible way to love."

"Ooh I like her already."

"She wrote this when she was just a teenager, and it became an instant international success. I think it
resembled Salinger, but it was more romantically themed."
"Well, I like the length," I said unintelligently, flipping to the last page. There were only 127 pages.

"Yeah, you can finish it this afternoon and tell me what you think later."

As he disappeared off back, I cracked open the book. It was a delightful yet slightly melancholy piece
about summer, adolescence, insecurity, jealousy, and pleasure.

'A strange melancholy pervades

me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always
appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret,
and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft,
and sets me apart from everybody else.'

How fascinating was this feeling? To find myself in someone else's words.

***

As senior year pushed forward, I got better. The black-and-white puzzle Sean gave me had a bizarre
calming effect. It was a slow remedy for my heart. I completed it in less than three weeks, and after that
I bought a couple more.

By March when I received my acceptance letter from NYU, I had done four puzzles already. Nicholas
introduced me to a few more amazing women, including Lady Chatterley, Madame Bovary, Eugénie
Grandet, and Thérèse Raquin. I partied a little too, but no college guys and rebound relationships this
time.

Heartbreak is something you have to face on your own.

I called Sean and told him the news. He congratulated me politely and refused to take any credit for it.
He got in everywhere he applied to, no surprises there, and a small voice whispered in my head, NYU
and MIT are not impossibly far.

"Can I buy you dinner, or coffee at least?" I asked. "To thank you properly."

"That really isn't necessary."

"Sean, I miss you," I blurted. "I want to know how you are."

"I'm fine, but thanks for asking."

My stomach turned but I made myself sound as chirpy as possible. "You don't talk to me anymore. Can

you tell me what you've been doing lately?"

He paused for a while before he spoke again. "Well...aside from the usual, I helped my grandfather build
a boat," he said. "A big one. We tested it on water the other day and it actually stayed afloat."

"Really? That's impressive!"

"It's one of his dreams. His health has started to go downhill, especially his heart condition. I want to
finish it before I go to university." Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, his tone changed.
"This is a depressing topic for me, to be honest. Let's drop it."
After a short silence, I tried again. "I heard you're much better at German now."

He spoke a few sentences in German very fast. I didn't understand a word of it, but his accent seemed
pretty right on.

"I don't know what you said, but sounds like you're going to be having a lot of fun with German girls," I
said brightly.

"I don't need to speak German to have fun with them. Some things are universal," he said and I laughed.
In a fleeting second he sounded like his old self. It was such a delight to hear, all my worries melted
away. We were going to be okay.

"Hey, when can we start hanging out?"

He was silent for a second. Just when I thought there was hope, he said,

"Not yet."

=================

Chapter 64 The Prom

Sean

The first few weeks after the break up went by easier than I imagined. I can cope with this, I told myself.
I thought I was doing okay, but the worst of it came when Flora called me and told me she got in NYU.

I was happy for her, but there was also a sense of loss, telling me that everything was pointless now. We
used to talk about a future together before that future came crashing down on me. In the end it really
didn't matter where she went to school. She would go to Central Park and MOMA with some other guy,
and I had no one to build a mechanical dog for anymore.

Flora damaged me like a blast of hurricane. She came on fast and strong, left rapidly with messy trails,
and I was abandoned to deal with the aftermath alone. I didn't know how much longer it'd take to get
over her, but I did know I was nowhere near ready.

After hanging up the phone, I went to the café Nicholas worked at. The place was overpriced and
snooty, but I went sometimes so I could leave him a tip and help him out a little. When I sat down he
was busy behind counters, so I cracked open my German textbook.

I finally had a motivation to study. Jake and Dylan were counting on me to lure in European girls for
them, after all.

"Hey, what can I get you?" Nicholas appeared, pleasant as usual. He once told me jokingly that they
were supposed to intimidate the customers by acting overbearing, so that they would subconsciously
feel that buying a cup of coffee here made them cooler. He could never be anything but nice though.

"I want something dark." To match my thoughts.

"I'll get
you a French Roast." A while later he set it down on my table, the end of his thin purple tie touching the
table. As if sensing my mood, he added, "I'm not busy now if you want company."

"That'd be nice."

He pulled up a chair and sat down across from me. I wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't judge me,
like him, but I didn't know where to start.

"She comes here sometimes," he said after a brief silence.

I nodded. Flora already told me, just like everything else about her life that she was eager to share.

"She's always asking about you."

It was what I expected, and I knew Flora still cared about me and wanted me in her life, albeit under a
different title. I couldn't give her that, however, just like I didn't know how to be a good boyfriend for
her. I told her I'd make it worth it and that falling in love with me would be the best crazy thing she ever
did, but it really wasn't.

"I've been thinking a lot about what I did wrong," I said, watching the smoke rise from the mug,
stretching out across the air.

"What's the conclusion?"

"I think she changed a lot for me, but I wasn't able to do the same for her. There were things I was
willing to do, but I also had to draw the line somewhere. Flora's like...she can give up everything for me."

"You think she tried harder for the relationship?"

"Yes, but in my defense, I tried too. There are just some core values that I can't change, no matter how
much I love her. Giving up MIT for New York, for example. And Janet thinks I should let her hang out
with other guys, but she's too close

with them. It's not just grabbing a bite together after class. It's hanging out in a house alone or partying
after midnight, and even though I know where she's coming from, it's hard for me to approve of it."

He gave me a non-committal nod, to show that he heard rather than he agreed. "And you think it's your
fault that you can't change for her?"

"Yeah. I was too stubborn about a lot of things. She wanted to have a break instead of a breakup, and I
couldn't agree to that either."

He leaned forward and propped his forearms against the table as I went on, and when I finished, he said,
"I'm no expert, but here's my take on this. A relationship is a little bit like business. You lay down your
terms and conditions and see if the other person finds it acceptable, and you separate on good terms
when it doesn't work out. She may be more flexible during the negotiation, but it's neither one of your
faults."

"I wish it were that easy. There are feelings involved."

"Of course. You sacrifice for her if you think she's worth it, but you let her go if it's going against the
things you're unwilling to change. No shame in that. You know exactly how much you can give up and I
think that's...admirable, really."

I took a sip of my coffee. It had a bold flavor with a strong bite, much like Nicholas's words.

"I don't agree with Janet," he said. "She thinks you should change yourself for Flora too, but I say find
someone who shares your values."

"Speaking of values, we fought a lot when I was helping her study. I was strict with her, and perhaps
putting all that emphasis on responsibility

killed the romance. Ironically, in order to build a future, it cost us."

He nodded. "Maybe at this point of life she just wants to have a good time."

"Yeah, the things I can offer her are not what she wants."

"But ask yourself this. If you could do it over again, what would you change? Would you have all the fun
you could while it lasted?"

I thought back to our moments together, each one more precious than the last, and breathed in the
strong aroma of the coffee in front of me. I thought hard. What could I have done to save us?

I would still put school first and make sure she placed studying before sex. I didn't have money to spend
on all the restaurants she wanted to try, and I liked having dinner with my family. When I went to
parties with her, I would stay sober even if she wanted us to blow off steam together. I'd still say no to
making out in the storage room, smoking pot with Raymond, texting her constantly on vacation, and
applying to Colombia or taking a year off. I would still ask her to go home at a reasonable hour and drive
slower, because I'd never be able to forgive myself if something were to happen to her.

Lastly, I couldn't say yes to a break or staying friends, because there were times when it was best not to
complicate things.

"I can't really change anything," I said. "I did what I thought was best, and I'd definitely do it over again."

He nodded. "Then you have no regrets. You gave your best shot, and even if it didn't work out the way
you wanted to, you'll leave knowing her life is a little better after she met you."

I had never

thought of it that way before. It was a nice thought, a positive thought that made things don't seem so
pointless after all.

"Maybe no matter what you choose to do, it won't last forever," Nicholas said, "but the feeling of doing
the right thing will last."

"And I guess an NYU diploma will last forever too."

"Exactly." He smiled. "Hey, drink your coffee while it's still hot."
He left the table then to get to a customer, and we didn't get a chance to talk much after that. Before I
went home, he told me that they were replacing the old coffee machine with a new one.

"I can give the old one to you," he said. "It's used but in perfect condition."

"Keep it yourself." I knew Nicholas loved coffee too, and he could never afford to buy one.

"No, I'm sick of coffee. Besides, you'll still need to buy beans and I don't want to spend money on that."

He showed me how to operate the machine. I didn't know what to say so I just said thanks. Nicholas was
a really great friend. We didn't hang out that much, but every time counted.

Before I turned to go, he looked at me meaningfully and said, "It takes time, you know."

"To make coffee?" I asked, even though I knew that wasn't what he meant at all.

"Yes, to make coffee." He smiled. "You'll be okay."

***

Flora didn't stop trying after that. She asked me out a few more times and hinted quite tactlessly about
getting back together. I was on the bleachers one afternoon, watching Dylan and Jake shooting hoops
when she sat down next to me. I could feel my body tense immediately, but I counted

to three and turned to her with a smile.

"Flora."

"Hey. So what's up?" She managed to sound flirty with such a simple greeting. Or perhaps it was just her
familiar perfume, seducing me the way only she was capable of. It was torture of the best kind.

"You know, the usual." Trying to get over you and hoping you'd stay away from me. "How about you?"

"Nicholas lent me some books," she said. "This is amazing, but I'm actually starting to enjoy reading! I
also did some puzzles a while back. The one you gave me is my favorite."

"Interesting." You mean the one with the Eiffel tower, which we would never see together?

"Anyway, I want to talk to you about something." She turned her enormous hazel eyes to me, and when
we were staring at each other like that, my heart rate still escalated uselessly.

"Yes?"

"Okay, here goes." She squared her shoulders. "I want to ask you if...if you want to go to prom
together."

I blinked. "You want to what?"

"I want to go to senior prom with you. It's been my dream since freshman year."

"You're crazy," I said before I could stop myself.

"Just for old times' sake, Sean. I can't think of anyone else I'd like to go with. We'll just go as friends, of
course."
"I don't think that's a good idea."

I thought she would leave it at that, but a few seconds later she said suddenly, "I think of you literally
every second. I wish you could give us another chance."

I looked away. The hurt was still so fresh, and she thought she could say whatever she wanted without
considering a second about

how I felt. Her innocent impulsiveness was crueler than she realized.

She laid a hand on my forearm lightly. "I really miss you."

My composure fell apart at her touch. Something snapped inside me, and all the pain, bitterness, anger,
and sadness that tore at me for weeks broke free finally, like a tormented beast finally clawed its way
out. I picked up her hand and let it drop. "No, Flora, this is unfair. You're not allowed to say you miss me
and you can't touch me. Okay?"

The pain on her face was hard to watch, and it really wasn't my intention. "Why are you like this? You
don't have to burn every bridge."

"You broke up with me, remember? You have no right to ask me this. Besides, you have enough friends
to build an army already. I don't know why you have to force your friendship on me."

"I'm sorry." She covered her face with her hands, and then she mumbled that she still loved me as much
as before. At that moment I hated her. When I told her I loved her, it was a promise. When she said it, it
was like an inspiration. She said it whenever she felt like saying it, even when she didn't know what she
wanted and what she could do with it.

"Flora, I don't hate you for breaking up with me, but if you keep doing this to me...you don't know how
much it affects me when you say things like that." My voice cracked. "You know as well as I do that even
if we get back together, we'll break up again soon. Nothing's changed. We're still very different people
and highly incompatible, except that with one more break up between us, it's going to be even harder to
work this time. We have

every reason to stay apart and only faith to hold us together, and now even that's gone."

Jake and Dylan had stopped passing the ball and were looking up at us. I hated having them worry over
me.

Flora's eyes were brimming with tears. "Sean, please. I just don't want us to end like this. I want us to be
able to talk to each other, at least."

I looked up at the ceiling to distract myself. I didn't want to cry in front of her again. It'd be so easy to
give in and tell her how much I wanted to get back together too, all the time, every single minute, but I
needed to be strong.

"Flora, you're going to dazzle the world and let the world dazzle you. I respect the lifestyle you want, but
I can't fit in that lifestyle. I admire you for ending it before it's too late. You made the right decision, and
now I need you to stick with it." I took a deep breath. "I can't be friends with you because you have no
boundaries and I can't resist you, so it's best that we cut all ties. You want me to talk to you? That's all I
want to say."
Flora's tears seized my heart as usual and I couldn't breathe. I really didn't mean to make her cry again,
but we seemed to keep hurting each other despite being madly in love. I couldn't watch her. I stood up
and left the gym, but this time I didn't feel like a coward for running away.

I'd always thought the hardest thing would be trying to get Flora to stay in my life, but now I
understood.

It was letting her go.

I thought of the stupid wishes I made at the carnival. We weren't going to achieve world peace anytime
soon, my granddad just went through

another stent replacement, and Flora sat beside me a minute ago, my personal heartbreaker, and I still
loved her as dearly as that day. I had the sinking feeling that we really would always love each other, but
we would do that on our own.

Be careful what you wish for. I got my wish, but it wasn't a blessing but a curse.

***

Not very long afterwards, prom rolled around the corner.

"I heard you're not going with Flora," Janet said as we sat at our usual place on the lawn before class
started.

"That's right. Who's she going with?" I asked even though I shouldn't. It was none of my business.

"She's going by herself. She said she's making a statement." Janet looked at me. "How about you?"

I usually didn't care much for dances, but senior prom was kind of important, even to me, and I didn't
want to go with someone random. "I don't know. It's too soon and there's no one else I can see myself
talking to the whole night."

"Oh, there is someone," Janet said. She waited a second to build the suspense. "Me. Your best friend."

I laughed. "You want to go to prom with me? But I assume you'd go with Brian."

"No, I want to go with you."

Janet asked me because she was worried about me. It was a bit like a pity date. "J, thanks for the offer,
but it's okay."

"I'm serious. Brian's been to his senior prom already. I don't need to drag him off to mine."

"Really? But wouldn't you want him to dance with you, buy you a corsage and pick you up in a limo?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's so lame. We're too cool for that."

"Don't expect

a limo from me either."

"Please don't. Take it easy. We'll just hang out and make comments about other people."
"Is Brian going to be okay with it? I'd definitely not be okay with it if I were him."

"He really doesn't care." Janet popped a piece of gum into her mouth, then she stopped chewing to
deliver a very touching sentence. "You know what? I wouldn't date anyone who doesn't understand us.
I've known you for my whole life and Brian's completely cool with it."

"If he doesn't mind, then sure. Let's go to prom together."

"Okay. Who knows how many chances we can hang out together after we graduate?" Janet asked with a
foreign light in her eyes, like she wanted to hang on to something that was running down the drain. I
knew how she felt. It was the uncertainly of saying goodbye to high school and everything familiar.

"Yeah, but I'll see you every time we come back home."

She nodded. "We'll always be best friends, right? My life just wouldn't be the same without you."

It wasn't Janet's style to say warm things to me, and she never needed to. It was a bit like Dylan hugging
me when he was drunk or Linda kissing me on rare occasions; I appreciated their affection but I could do
without. However, right at that moment, as I watched our classmates gathering in front of the building, I
felt exactly the same and I knew what she meant. A sense of nostalgia hit me even though high school
wasn't over yet.

I never told Janet her friendship was important to me, and that I was sorry for always placing my
relationships before her.

"J, thank you for being there for me for

all these years. You really are the best friend I could ever hope for."

"I plan to stay that way, that is, unless I'm too busy being a rock star," she said, ending the heart-
warming session. "In that case, my assistant will return your calls."

"You decided to sign the record deal?"

"Yup. My band is quite understanding," she said. "I'm just going to try it out for a while and record some
songs during the summer. I'm temporarily putting college on hold."

"College can wait, being a rock star can't."

"That's what I thought too." She smiled. "So enjoy my company while you still can."

She stood up first when the bell rang and slipped on her headphones. I was grateful for Janet's
friendship, but sometimes I'd briefly ponder where this friendship was heading, and I knew it would
eventually fade out if Brian wasn't as understanding as he was. I met him a few times and he really did
seem super chill. It was weird thinking of it now that I was in this position, the guy friend, the exact kind
of role that I'd be wary about as a boyfriend, yet I just agreed to going to prom with her.

That was some serious double standard right there.

***
Janet was dressed in a grey tee and black leather pants when she came over to meet up for prom, from
right next door. She had on dark eye shadow and looked as if she was on the way to one of her rock
concerts.

If this had been Flora, she would've made a big fuss about our outfits, demanded a pre-prom photo
session, made dinner reservations at a grand restaurant, and rent a helicopter so we could arrive in
style, and

for some strange reason I found myself longing for that. Not that I was complaining, but with Janet this
felt like any other night. We grabbed a fast dinner, took her car to school, and after we arrived, we
joined a small group of our friends.

I couldn't believe Dylan and Sydney made it to prom together. I was almost jealous. For the time being
they seemed to be on good terms, which means a horrendously public display of parental advisory
explicit content. Jake claimed that prom was as bad as asking someone to go to a wedding together,
thus it was imperative that he showed up alone. For the time being he was scouting the dance floor like
a hawk, looking for his next partner in crime.

At this point, the person I least expected stopped in front of me and asked me if I wanted to dance.

She looked great in a yellow satin dress. It hung off her body and dripped like liquid gold.

"My pleasure, Sandra," I said.

Sandra half-smiled at me, and even though it was ridiculous, I really did feel like a peasant in front of the
queen. We danced for a while, and without Flora there as a lubricant, I struggled to come up with
anything to say to her.

"So where's Daniel?" I asked. "I noticed you weren't dancing with him."

Her eyebrows rose coolly and the expression on her face never wavered. "I didn't know you were the
gossiping type."

"I was just trying to make conversation."

She pointed across the room with her chin. "He's over there. Wearing a fedora hat. The guy probably
thinks he's Humphrey Bogart." Her eyes rested back on my face. "We just broke up, if you must know."

"I'm

sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," she said. "I'm more sorry about you, to be honest."

My body tensed involuntarily. "I guess it's nothing to be sorry about, either."

She shook her head. "I had to hear your stupid name every other sentence for years, yet I can't believe it
didn't pay off. You owe me a personal apology, Sean Foster. I wasted so many brain cells over you two
young grasshoppers."

"My sincere apologies."

Sandra gave me a curt nod, yet I felt like I'd just been knighted by the queen. I expected her to be icy
and formal towards me like she did everyone else, but somehow she was still comfortably mean around
me. I was no longer Flora's boyfriend, but it was quite a privilege to still be accepted into Sandra's circle.

She asked me if I voted for Prom Queen and King yet, and I replied that I voted for her as always. I voted
for Raymond Corbett as well, out of habit, and on hearing this Sandra scoffed.

"Looks like I'm going to dance with him again," she said. "How exciting. By the way, are you going to his
after prom party?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly friends with him."

"You don't need to be friends with him. Everyone just uses him for his parties anyway."

I didn't know if Sandra was joking, but unexpectedly, I felt bad for Raymond. He threw a huge party
every semester and we all went, drank as much beer as we could, yet I realized I never really thanked
him for it, not sincerely anyway. I just thought it was convenient that someone volunteered to provide
entertainment.

"He's very concerned that

our entire senior class is invited," Sandra said, "so no one misses out on the last chance to have fun. Or
have sex, as he puts it. Raymond is such an idiot." The last sentence was accompanied by an almost
inaudible soft sigh.

Before I could answer, a commotion at the entrance of the gym caught my eyes.

And my heart stopped.

Flora arrived by herself, fashionably late as expected. It was impossible not to notice her as she set the
time still. She wore a silver dress, like a sliver of silver fish fin in the dark sea, swimming by the crowd as
she produced a small ripple. I forced myself to look away but I couldn't.

Ever since I said all the brutal things to her at the bleachers, she didn't talk to me again. We avoided
each other and stayed on opposite ends at all times, like there was an invisible electric field keeping us
apart.

Now she was here, and I could see that her dress was barebacked, aside from a few ridiculously thin
strings keeping it in place. My face felt cold and hot at the same time.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," Sandra said. Her tone was kind.

"I'm sorry."

She smiled at me and let go of my hand. "Go dance with her."

I thanked her for the dance and went back to Janet. I wasn't that stupid. Now that Flora was in the
room, it was excruciatingly hard to ignore her existence, but I tried. Janet didn't even have to ask. She
kept up a light chatter with me and told me that Brian got into a small fight with her, because she chose
not to go to college.

"He tries to be supportive," she said, "but as you know he comes from a traditional
family and they only approve of the 'right' way to success, which is through proper education. He thinks
his parents might approve of me more if I go to college."

"You can't base your life on what his parents want."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. We're fine now, so don't worry. He said he'd probably swing by later to see
me, but I guess he couldn't make it after all."

"I'm sure he'll be here any second."

"I don't think so. He can hold a grudge sometimes."

"No, he is here. Look."

And then I watched this fairytale unfold before my eyes, which consisted of Brian showing up in a tux
and whisking out a black corsage, and Janet holding out her wrist in a giddy, girlish manner, not at all like
the cool rock star she was, and I was so genuinely happy for her, even when she told me she wanted to
be a horrible friend for once and ditch me.

Brian gave me a pat on the shoulder before he left with Janet, and it dawned on me that maybe it was
possible, after all, to find the love of your life in high school. I was glad that although it didn't happen to
me, it happened to my best friend.

After Sandra and Raymond were crowned Queen and King again, to no one's surprise, I searched for
Flora again. She was pouring herself a drink, and I watched her tipping her head back elegantly as she
drank. When she set down the stem glass again, her eyes caught mine across the room.

We stared at each other hypnotized. I couldn't see anything anymore, except the way lights reflected off
her eyes. They were warm like chocolates, so sweet to drink in and ultimately

to drown in.

I told myself to abort immediately. She was a fiery, messy ball of fire that burnt me badly, and even
cavemen learned their lessons after the initial contact. This was Flora, however, and when it came to
Flora, no amount of judgment and common sense could save me.

I blamed her dress, mostly.

My heart pounded hard against my rib cage, and I thought self-destructively, it would be so wrong to
end senior year without at least sharing one dance with Flora.

So I made my way towards her.

=================

Chapter 65 The last dance

Flora

You know that moment in chick flicks when the guy and the girl locate each other in a noisy room? Their
eyes fly past all the irrelevant people until they find each other, and suddenly it's as if the room grows
quiet and no one else exists. People are terribly understanding as they move aside to make way for
them, like they're Moses parting the Red Sea.

That pretty much happened to us. Sean found me from across the gym, and the distance made it okay
for me to stare back. I was faintly aware of the fact that he was wearing a suit and looked like the
human form of temptation, but I didn't break eye contact to check him out.

We were past that stage and Sean wasn't just a hot guy to me anymore. He was my dream and my
nightmare, my enigma and my answer, and he was both the solution and the cause of my problems. He
was someone I should stay away from, yet every fiber of my being was swimming against the tides
towards him despite the danger.

I desperately tried to read him as he came closer.

What did he want? Was this a beginning, or did he want closure? Was he ready to talk, or did he just
find it polite to share one last dance with me?

Since his outburst at the bleachers, I'd been keeping a safe distance from him. I gave him the space he
wanted. I was hurt by all the things he said, but I understood perfectly.

He was like a small, wounded animal, yet I kept poking at him with a stick and asking him to come out of
his cave to play with me. Naturally he bit me.

And then he was in front of me, and he was nothing like a small, wounded animal

right now. He almost made me envious of the fact that he looked so good in a suit. He was tall, lean,
gazing down at me, and the color of his tie even matched my dress.

It was like being tossed, unprepared, into a warm pool of fond memories. We were always inseparable
when we danced together, reluctant to waste a single minute on anyone else. This evening I almost lost
all hope. For a second there I honestly thought he would ignore me all night, that he'd let senior prom
slip away without giving us one last chance to savor something so pure and lovely.

"Would you like to dance?" Sean's voice was soft.

I couldn't speak right away. I couldn't explain it. It was such a simple sentence, but coming from him it
could mean everything.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked when I didn't answer. "I know you have every reason to be--"

"No, of course not." I swallowed. I wasn't the competitive Flora who only knew of revenge and winning
anymore. I couldn't be mad at him even if I wanted to, especially since I knew what he went through.

He couldn't be friends with me for the most flattering reason possible, because he still loved me. It was
the exact same reason why I wanted to stay in touch with him. Like everything else, we just had to tackle
this with entirely different approaches. I wanted to take a step back and build it back from there. He
wanted to cut all ties so that he could mourn freely.

But the bottom line was, we felt the same way. That was reason enough to give him a friendly smile, and
I didn't care if that made me weak. When it came to him, there were more important
things than useless pride. I'd always be ready for him.

I placed one hand on his shoulder, and he took my other hand. We both halted for the briefest second at
the touch.

It was just holding hands, no big deal, and we had both danced with plenty of other people already. But
with us, everything carried an undertone of intimacy and could rapidly spin out of control. A dance
wasn't just a dance, and fingers were more than fingers.

He slid his other hand onto my back and rested below the shoulder blade. My body tightened at the
heat of his palm, as if he had just reached in and squeezed my soul. For a while all I could concentrate on
was the warm patch that burned at the bare skin on my back.

"I want to apologize for that day," he said.

I shook my head to cut him off. "No, I get it. You told me already that you needed time, but it's like I
keep picking at the scab on your wound."

"You're so understanding about it. I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry too. But I think we should stop apologizing to each other."

He sighed. "Good idea."

We started moving to the music. The sensual embrace and the eye contact were overwhelming. I liked it
and was simultaneously scared of how much I liked it. For a while I relished in the idea of being so
rightfully close to him.

"You look really great in silver, Flora."

"I'm so disappointed in you, Sean." I shook my head in mock disapproval. "This is gunmetal grey."

He smiled and it stopped my heart. It was a real smile, and it was something hard to come by these days.

We swayed on the dance floor,

rotating slowly as we gazed at each other. Sean really wasn't a good dancer, but anyone who danced
with him would be too busy trying to control their own breathing to notice.

"You know I don't hate you, right?" he asked. His face was more fascinating than all the dresses,
corsages and jewelries in the room added together. "I don't want you to take it the wrong way. I only
said I don't want to be friends because I don't know how when I'm still...I mean it'd probably be easier if
you didn't mean anything to me."

"I get it." I smiled up at him. "So this dance...does this mean you're ready to be friends or is this the last
time you're going to talk to me?"

"If we're being honest..." He bit his lower lip. It was so distracting. "I want to be friends with you
eventually, but right now I just want to dance one more time with you because senior prom is important
to me."
"Okay." I was slightly disappointed, but it was expected. We danced in silence for a while before I
decided to be blunt again. "So I know I was probably unintentionally cruel to you when I kept bugging
you, but it wasn't entirely because I was inconsiderate. I asked to be friends because I knew if I didn't
push for it, you'd let us gradually fade out. You'd go to university and never contact me again."

He didn't answer this, and I knew I was right.

"Just so you know," I said, "I can be an awesome friend."

He gave me a faint smile. "I don't doubt that at all."

"If you need help throwing another party or picking out the right bottle of wine, for example..."

"...or getting front-row tickets to another

ball game."

"Exactly! And I can always offer you fashion tips and help with your pickup lines."

He smiled. "I think I'll do without the pickup lines."

"And if you ever go to New York again, I can give you suggestions on restaurants and attractions."

"I can ask my other friend Tripadvisor."

"Maybe you'll need a place to crash if there are no hotel rooms available."

He glanced at the overhead speaker and frowned, but I could see he enjoyed the light banter too. It was
nice to joke like this again. "When's this song ever going to end? You're annoying me."

He didn't act like I annoyed him. If anything, the distance between us closed further, both figuratively
and literally. I couldn't even remember when my arms had wrapped themselves around his neck, and his
circled my waist. I was suddenly very conscious of his broad chest and how I could practically feel his
breath on my face.

I tilted my head. "You know, you did say before that you want me in your life for as long as I'm willing to
stay." Sean used to find it funny when I twisted his words. I hoped he still did.

"That's not what I meant."

"I can't stay in your life as a friend?" I raised my eyebrows in defiance. "We don't have to abide by the
all-or-none law like a muscle fiber."

"What does that mean?"

I sighed, pretending to be impatient. "Gosh, Sean, don't you know anything? When you stimulate a
muscle fiber, if the stimulus is strong enough to exceed the limit, then the muscle fiber will respond. It's
not like the stronger the stimulus, the stronger the response. It

either responds fully or none at all. Like you. It's either a love you forever or don't talk to me. Which is
silly, because you're a human being and you should be more complex than a muscle fiber."

He stared at me, and then he started to chuckle.

I beamed. Who knew that one day I'd be able to feel so smart around Sean? Some part of me did change
for the better, after all.

"Well," he said, "I don't know how to refuse when a girl talks science to me."

"You might as well say yes now, or I'll just keep nagging you."

"Okay, okay. I'll start by returning your e-mails. Don't push it," he warned, but his eyes were full of
amusement. I took it he wouldn't mind if I placed my head on his chest now, so I did.

I loved his body, not in a sexual way (okay that too), but how well we fitted together. I knew exactly how
to position myself against him, and his arms were at just the right angle. This evening the scent of him
was especially pleasing. I felt warm and comforted in his arms, like I was wrapped in a soft blanket and
sipping a mug of tea.

He complained earlier about the length of the song, but when it ended, we glided seamlessly into the
next one. We were silent through the second dance as we held onto each other. I closed my eyes and
basked in the Seaness of him.

That's why people like dances. It's a chance to hold a hot guy that doesn't belong to you for a few
shimmering minutes of heaven.

The song ended too soon, like a merry-go-round that was stopped abruptly, like a dream interrupted.
Slowly, he pulled away. I was suddenly cold, but

I knew I couldn't dance in his arms forever.

"Thank you for the dance," he said.

"It was my pleasure."

That was it. For now, for God knows how long. The area around my eyes was hot with emotions. He was
still looking at me although we were already a few steps apart, like he had a thousands words to say but
didn't know where to start. I wasn't ready to move on either, and I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye
yet. My thoughts were a mess, and trying to sort them was as if trying to unwind a tangled ball of yarn.

So I took a step closer to him and said without thinking, "Hey. Do you want to get out of here?"

***

I gripped his hand and tugged him through the darkened campus.

Perhaps it was the magic of the last dance, prom, or that nighttime generally brought people closer,
Sean was surprisingly cooperative. He didn't ask where we were going, and he didn't seem surprised
when we stopped before the swimming pool. It was breaking and entering again for old times' sake, just
like the first time we went to the homecoming dance together.

We had agreed on dating exclusively back then, but now we were back to two single people with a sea
of feelings, arguments, tears, and promises between us.

He hoisted me up and helped me climb over the fence first.

"Don't try to look up my dress," I said.

He smiled and his eyes sparkled like sapphires. "It's nothing I haven't seen already."

I jumped off the fence. He took off his suit jacket and handed it to me from the other side, along with his
cell phone, and then he briskly joined me. It was so petty but

I liked guarding his belongings for him. He didn't ask for them back, so I slipped the phone into the jacket
pocket and hugged it loosely to my chest.

We sat by the pool and enjoyed our private party. Since graduation was looming so near, this might as
well be the last night for everything. For recollection, for prospection, and for sneaking peeks at Sean
with his tie loosened and the sleeves rolled up. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood to talk. He
was excited about going to university and I was genuinely happy for him.

It was nice to have something else in life to look forward to besides relationships.

"You're going to do great at MIT," I said. "It's like an amusement park for nerds, and I mean it in the best
way possible."

"You'll have fun at NYU too," he said, "but they don't have a traditional campus and the dorms are far
apart, so you might not live close to your friends."

"That's okay, the city is fabulous! There are too many things to do so people don't feel the need to stay
on campus. It'd be like living in the city and taking classes somewhere."

He nodded. "Yes, there's too much choice in the city. People might choose to do their own thing, alone,
instead of compromising to do something together."

"Wait, how do you even know about the social scene at NYU? You don't know anyone that goes there."

"I just do."

I jabbed at his side with my elbow. "You did research, didn't you? For me."

He didn't confirm this but I knew I was right. "Flora, you'll make friends in no time, but it might be a
good idea to be more independent too. It's going to

be lonely in the beginning. It won't be like in high school where we all sit at one big table and you get to
see everyone all the time."

He went on for a while, and I realized he was worried about me. He still cared for me even though I
wasn't his responsibility anymore. I looked up at the stars and I started missing him already.

"You'll have different classes and schedules, and you can't always have people to keep you company,"
he said. "You need to learn to have fun by yourself."

"I know. That's good advice." University would be a great opportunity for me in more ways than one.

It was a cloudless, serene night and the air was clean. The moon shone down and casted a shadow along
his jawline. His eyes were alluring under the dark lashes. I was touched that he was looking out for me,
but I got a spur-of-the-moment idea and decided to have fun with him while I still could.
I stood up and beckoned for him to join me. "I want to show you something I discovered the other day."

He followed my lead. I walked along the edge of the pool, all the way to the deep end. I turned around
to face him and leaned in.

"Remember the first time we broke in here together?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Do you remember what you said to me?"

"I said a lot of things," he replied. His eyes were curious.

"You made me promise something."

"Don't go out with other guys?"

I flashed him my sweetest smile. "No, Sean. Don't push you into the pool."

With that, I placed my palms on his chest and pushed him into the pool.

His expression was priceless.

I knew it was a stupid, reckless thing to do, not to mention dangerous, but I'd do it again if I could.

It wasn't because of the shock on his face or the way his shirt clung to his body when he came up. It
wasn't because his dark hair matted down his face and made his blue eyes more enticing than ever, or
because when he pushed himself out of the pool, he said to me in a harshly sexy tone that I should
surrender myself to him so that he didn't have to chase me, or how every one of my organs blushed
when his strong arms picked me up and clasped around my body before he tossed me in the water--

It was because when we started splashing water on each other, he laughed.

And my heart tightened.

I would do it over and over just so I could hear him laugh again. It had been missing between us for such
a long time, and I remembered how seeing him happy was one of the things that made me ridiculously
happy. I watched his face with my chest full of affection.

I loved him. I loved making him laugh. I could probably live without his kisses, but I wished he could
always share that kind of happiness with me.

"You're every bit as crazy as I remembered, Flora Morgan," he said as he helped me get out of the pool.
He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, and he looked absolutely adorable.

"At least I made sure your cell phone wasn't on you before I did it," I said between giggles.

We were both drenched. Sean walked back to the opposite end and picked up his suit jacket. He held it
out to me. "You might want to put this on. I don't want you to catch a cold."

He wasn't looking
at me when he said it. I glanced down at myself and noticed how transparent my soaking dress had
become. I draped his jacket over my shoulders and pulled it close with one hand; it was a warm night,
and now it had become warmer. I could feel the chemistry between us sizzling and shooting off sparks.

We headed toward my car in silence. I tried not to notice how Sean looked when he was all wet, but I
could feel him radiating sexiness right next to me.

"Did you drive?" I asked as the parking lot came into view.

"No, we took Janet's car, but she left already."

"Let me give you a ride," I said.

"Thanks."

"You can even dry off at my place if you want to. Ray lives really close to me, so we can walk to the party
together afterwards."

I was surprised he didn't object to the plan. I thought he only wanted to dance, but this was going a lot
better than I anticipated. I was already thinking of what song I should play later when we reached my
car. Sean stopped before it and ran his palm gingerly along the car hood.

He didn't say anything, but I could guess what he was thinking.

We spent so much time together in this car. I used to pick him up after his games and let him sleep next
to me on the passenger seat. I'd always let him rest for a while longer as I watched the way his chest rise
and fall. He would wake up groggily and flash me a bashful grin, apologizing about what a boring
boyfriend he was. I'd shut him up and we'd make out, then we would go up to his room and make out
some more.

It was not just a vehicle but a metal box full of memories. His hand

reached the door handle, and then he pulled it back again.

"Flora...I think I'll just see you later at the party."

I already knew he would say that, but it still felt like a blow to the stomach. I could feel myself starting to
get whiny again. "Why can't we go together?"

He turned to face me. His eyes were clear and honest, like a shallow pool I could see right through. "I'm
afraid of what will happen if I go home with you. I don't know if you feel this, but there's still a lot
between us and I'm very much attracted to you."

"It's not just you. I feel the same way."

He nodded. "I have thoughts about you that shouldn't be allowed between friends."

The way he said it wasn't flirty. It was serious and almost grave. I couldn't remember the last time he
was so blunt. Now that it was out there, we fell silent again.

"We don't have to be friends," I said finally, working up all my courage.

He hesitated for only the briefest second. "I think it'd be best if you go to NYU without a boyfriend," he
said. He was gazing at me with so much tenderness; it was painful and soothing at the same time. "You
should be free to do whatever you want, without me holding you back. Explore the city. Make friends.
Go on a few horrible dates so you have some fun stories to tell..."

He looked at me like he wanted to remember every detail of my face, like he knew he wouldn't be
seeing me for a while. Tears started to rise up and I blinked rapidly.

"I really mean it," he said softly. "I still...I want you to know that you mean everything to me. This isn't
me saying no to

you. This is the best thing I can offer you right now."

"You're saying it like you want us to both move on and forget each other."

"I just want you to be happy. I know this sucks right now, but you'll get better. You'll be fine."

I wanted Sean to be happy too, I really did, but I didn't want to be left behind in his past. I didn't want
him to forget me.

He leant in and pulled me in an embrace. I buried my face against the wet fabric of his shirt and put my
arms around his waist. He hugged me back very tightly, like squeezing out every ounce of love he was
allowed to save for me. I held onto him like I would collapse without him.

I didn't know how much time passed. It seemed like an eternity, but it was also extremely brief. I felt his
lips move to my ear, and he said quietly, "I'll never forget you. You're the best, baby."

At the sound of the word baby I shivered and my tears flew free. He rubbed the back of my head, then
my back, then gave me one last squeeze before he broke away.

"Thank you for the perfect prom night," he said.

I nodded, unable to choke out a single syllable.

"But you ruined my suit and I'm sending you the dry cleaning bill," he said. His lips curled up and he
looked cuter than ever.

This boy would forever be the death of me.

He brushed my tears away with his thumb before he left. As I watched his retreating back, I realized that
Sean never said if he promised to stay friends with me or whether I could contact him again. I watched
the moonlight fell over his shoulders, and for a short second, I had the strangest,

most conflicting emotions crashing against me, both equally strong.

On the one hand I felt like I could never get over him. I'd wait for him until he was ready, and I'd take
whatever he could offer me. As an acquaintance, a friend, or something more. But at the same time, I
thought of him as a beautiful deer in the forest that made this world a better place simply by existing; I
didn't need it in my living room hanging off the wall.
I didn't need to own him. He didn't need to be mine. It was such a privilege to know him and to share a
part of myself with him, regardless of the length of time. No matter we kept in touch or not, I'd think of
him with fondness and know that he was off somewhere being awesome.

He would make me proud. I'd smile thinking of him, and know that I did not waste a single ounce of my
love on him.

I was still thinking of this as I started my car. My dress was sticking to my body and I was eager to get
home to a hot shower. I reached the intersection and there was no other car in sight.

The light just changed a second ago and I thought of running it, fleetingly, before I stepped on the
brakes hard.

The car screeched to a halt. I flicked the blinker.

As the tap-tap-tap of the blinker echoed off in the darkness, I looked at the empty street in front of me
and said to the night,

"Thank you, Sean."

=================

Chapter 66 The Finale

Sean

I went to Raymond's house with Jake after he came to my rescue and drove me home. We arrived at the
party, found Dylan hovering near the keg, and joined him.

"What took you so long?" He lifted his chin at us. His face was flushed with alcohol already.

"Sean was saying bye to Flora," Jake said. I didn't tell him that and I thought I was very calm on the way
over, but sometimes he could just detect these things with me. "He cried all the way home and I had to
stop and pat his back."

"Yeah right," Dylan said sarcastically. He handed us a plastic cup each, and we started drinking and
toasting to anything we could think of. To Jake getting voted as Most Gorgeous for the fourth time in a
row, to me graduating with the second highest GPA in our class, and to Dylan breaking up with Sydney
for one final round--or so he claimed.

"I'm pretty sure I heard you screaming you loved her when we went through the door," I said.

"I love us," Dylan said. He could be deep when he wanted to, and as he started getting sentimental, I
knew he was very drunk. "I miss the old us when everything was so good and we were each other's firsts
in everything. Now we're just holding on to that memory and refusing to let go."

He took another long swig and crumpled up the cup he was holding. "I regret a lot of things that
happened between us. We turned each other into horrible people."

"You're not horrible people," Jake said. "You're just horrible at being in a relationship. I'm glad I didn't
try. I must say I don't regret a single thing in high school."
"I

don't, either," I said. "I did everything I wanted to do."

"I did everything I wanted to do, too," Dylan said, "along with lots of things I didn't plan on doing."

Jake smirked as he filled up his cup. "You mean Sydney, along with Diane, Annie and Emma?"

"Why are you keeping tabs on Dill's sex life?"

He smiled at me. "Because you don't have one?"

Dylan laughed. He shook his head. "Nah, there's only Sydney for me."

He sounded sad already, and I was willing to bet that the Sydney Dylan show would come back with a
sequel. They were together for almost three years, and since he chose to go to a community college
nearby--not sure if he did it for her or for his mom--they would still be close to each other. He was such
a romantic fool.

Our conversation went on as we continued with our ritual of binge-drinking. Dylan's mom would pick us
up afterwards and let us stay at his house, as we had done many times before. I wondered how often
we'd be able to do that from now on. I felt nostalgic already.

For some reason, however, I had the feeling that these guys were going to stay in my life for quite a
while. It was a comforting thought.

"I fucking love you guys," Dylan said suddenly. "I'm really going to miss your ugly faces." He was
generally a very emotional person and was especially affectionate when drunk. I could sense a hug
coming up.

"Love you too, bro," Jake said easily as he took a step back. "But please don't hug me in front of the
girls."

We laughed and drank some more. By the time when I saw our party host Raymond, I was feeling

dizzy and out-of-character, so I decided to go over and talk to him. I was grateful towards him for the
party. It was one last chance to bring everyone together, and I felt like I'd miss our whole class.

Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing about high school. I was so incredibly lucky. I gave my sister an
unforgettable birthday, made my parents proud, spent time with people I truly liked, went to prom with
my best friend...

And I fell in love. It all started with one of Raymond Corbett's parties when this beautiful girl told me she
liked me.

I was right when I told her we were too different and better off as friends, but at the same time, I was
completely wrong too. I was relieved that we tried, and in the end it was all that really mattered. That
we tried.

It was good to end here, and I'd never forget any of my sparkling Flora moments. They were like the
snowflakes in a snow globe, not entirely real, but perpetual and easy to preserve, and I could reflect
upon them any time I want.
"Great party," I said to Raymond.

He gave me one of his overly-friendly smiles. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he genuinely
liked my presence. "Thanks for coming!"

"Thanks for inviting me."

"I'm glad you made it. Honestly," he said. "I say that to everyone but I really mean it. I hate half the
people here but you're not one of them."

Raymond was strangely blunt tonight, and I guessed it was because he'd just been voted Prom King and
no longer had to pretend to be nice. A couple of guys, who I didn't know the names of, were standing at
a corner and nervously watching the dance

floor. Raymond sighed through his nose and shook his head.

"Look at those losers," he said. "They have no idea what to do with themselves. Be right back while I find
them a babysitter."

Flora and Carmen were a few feet away taking pictures together. She looked stunning as usual in a red
dress, like she was posing for a perfume ad. Raymond approached them, and a moment later he was
gesturing animatedly at the guys.

Flora went over and shook their hands. In no time they were all laughing, and Raymond had his arm
slung over one of the guy's shoulder. This was certainly a strange sight to behold and I marveled over
just how fake Raymond was.

I didn't miss the guys' delighted faces, however. They were uncomfortable at first and probably didn't
like the party scene that much, but I was pretty sure they would go home happy, now that Raymond
intervened. He gave them something great to remember and they'd never know what he really thought
of them. He went around making sure everyone was enjoying themselves before he came back.

"Why bother inviting everyone if you hate half of them?" I asked, accepting the bottle of beer he handed
to me.

He shrugged. "I don't know. No one else would invite them, I guess. I feel better about myself when
they're happy. Besides, no one is allowed to have a bad time at my party."

The way he said it reminded me so much of Flora. The only difference was that she was genuinely
interested in people, even if at the beginning it was just their outfits.

"That's why I like Flora," Raymond said. "She can talk to anyone, and she

actually enjoys doing it. I can pretend to be friendly for a while before it gets exhausting, but she's like
that on default."

"Yeah. Flora is amazing like that."

As I got more familiar with Raymond's vibe, I began to grasp why Flora liked hanging out with him. They
were similar in some ways, and Flora was open-minded enough to tolerate his negative remarks on
people. He was also honest and insincere, considerate and mean at the same time, and I knew Flora was
drawn to that kind of complexity.

Raymond grimaced. "I don't mean I like her," he clarified. "She's fun to be around, that's all. Besides,
anyone who's heard of the way she talks about you knows that she's a lost cause. I don't want you to get
the wrong idea."

"It's okay. I understand."

"I have a crush on someone else," he said. Raymond was certainly up for sharing tonight. The strange
thing was, talking to him wasn't half bad. "She's partly the reason I throw a party every semester, in
hopes that she'd come."

"That's a lot of effort for one girl," I said. I was lazy and I'd never go to so much trouble. "You can just ask
her out."

He shook his head. "No, this one is very difficult. She's always unavailable, too, and it's against my policy
to try anything. I have enough respect for the boyfriend," he said, and a grin spread across his face. "I
mean, ex-boyfriend."

"Oh. There's your chance."

"Yup. I'm going to make my move tonight."

"Good luck. This is your party and home advantage is very important."

He laughed. "True. Hey, so we're cool, right?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"I

just want to make sure." He gave me a pat on the shoulder. "It's great talking to you. I wish we had done
it sooner."

There was no way to tell if he meant it, but at least I knew I meant it when I said me too. A while later, I
watched our Prom King and Queen stumble in a room together.

They were in there for a long time, and I couldn't help but feel amused. Sandra Jenkins, with her perfect
hair and sophisticated manners, had stooped to our level and done something so entirely high school.
Didn't I already predict this and tell Flora they should bond over their common hatred for everyone?

I never knew that parties could be so interesting.

***

Flora and I didn't talk anymore after graduation. I wanted to, but it seemed that we had already
exhausted all that could be said. I spent the summer without her, but I kept in touch with her in my own
way, madly and secretly.
It was hard at first. Thinking of her was like a broken rib--it hurt with every inhale and exhale. Gradually,
I'd learned to coexist with the idea of missing Flora. It was something that I had to carry with me at all
times even though it wasn't there, like a phantom limb.

I was still sad, but it was a tolerable kind of sadness that I had gotten used to, the way you don't hear
the sound of a buzz after it goes on continuously, the way fragrances lose their scent. I lived and
breathed her even though she wasn't with me anymore.

At least I had the freedom to think of her all I wanted.

When summer was close to an end, a plane took me and all my longing across the ocean. Germany

was wonderful. I didn't normally like chatting up strangers, but now that I was on foreign grounds, I was
much more out-going as stories were shared among fellow backpackers.

There were the two Korean guys who stayed up all night playing bridge with Dylan and me, while Jake
was out doing whatever it was that Jake did. The French middle-aged woman we met at the bar was a
small celebrity where she was from after one of her YouTube videos went viral. The Jamaican man
sitting in the hotel lobby was an obstetrician who decided to take a year off clinical practice so that he
could see the world.

The people I met and the things I saw were transformed into words on postcards. I wrote one to Flora
every day, even though I knew I was never going to actually post them.

"This is exciting," Dylan said one afternoon. We were standing in the tattoo parlor, and he decided to
get another tattoo to signify our trip abroad together.

"I'm touched, but I really don't want my initials on your body," Jake said.

Dylan pulled out his passport and found the page with the custom stamp. That was what he wanted on
his arm. He grinned at Jake. "You want one too? You can tattoo your address and ask people to drop you
off, in case you're wasted and lying in a puddle of your vomit on the side of the road."

"Dill, how can anyone not love you?" Jake shook his head. "You think of everything. Hey, but you know
what? I think I do want one."

He sat down on the stool and started flipping through pictures of designs. It was just like Jake to decide
on a tattoo two minutes before getting it, like

he was just ordering at a fast food joint.

"I want something exotic like Chinese characters," he said.

"It's not because of Jessica, is it?" I asked. He admitted a while ago that he had a strange infatuation
with her and he couldn't even explain it himself.

He frowned. "No, she'd freak out. Jess is the most infuriating girl I've ever met. She said we were soul
mates but insisted on keeping everything strictly physical."

"Jessica is more Jake than Jake," Dylan said.

"She's not like Flora, that's for sure," Jake said to me. "If you tattoo Flora Morgan right across your
heart, she'd probably love it."

Feels like I already did, I thought. As the tattoo artist placed the machine over Dylan's bicep, I sat down
and started writing a new postcard. I wrote one before we biked along The Rhine river, and I wrote one
in front of the bonfire, after we built a tent on the campsite in a botanic garden. I wrote one telling her
about canoeing on Lake Titisee, and I wrote another to report on how we helped an old lady move a
couch into her apartment. She made us some delicious grilled trout, and Flora would be impressed if she
were there.

It was my therapy, to get over her, but also to hang on to her.

"Can I read it?" Jake asked one evening while I was sprawled on the bed writing. There was a stack of
already written postcards in front of me. Dylan was off calling Sydney even though he claimed he was
single, but he was still allowed to care about her.

"Go ahead."

He grinned. "Is there anything dirty?"

"Oh yes. I mentioned you and Dill a couple

of times."

He smiled as he read, and I explained, "I just want to put down what we did, like a diary. It feels more
natural to write dear Flora instead of dear diary, but I'm not really mailing it to her."

"Is that so?" He raised one eyebrow. "I think it's the other way around. You want to talk to her but you
don't know what to say, so you're writing about our trip." He sounded like he pitied me, but there was
also a hint of envy in his tone.

I shrugged and changed the subject. "You were out for an awfully long time last night."

"I met a girl," he said. This part wasn't surprising, because Jake was always sharing his sexpeditions with
us. It was not to brag, according to him, but because we were bros and bros tell each other everything.
"We almost made out, but it felt wrong because we couldn't communicate. I ended up showing her
every picture in my camera, then she showed me hers."

"How disappointing. I expect a lot more from you."

"I expect a lot more from myself, too. I thought I'd be planting my offspring all over the European soil."
He handed back my postcard. "But it's nice to have someone to think about, isn't it?"

***

I packed up everything for university. Linda refused to get out of my room. She stood there dabbing her
eyes every now and then, because she was crying tears of joy and she couldn't wait to see me go.

I chuckled. "Would it kill you to tell me you're going to miss me?"

"Fine. I'm going miss you." She huffed. "Just a tiny bit."
"I'll miss you too, sis."

She handed my yearbook to me. "You forgot to pack

this."

There was a picture of Flora and me dancing in there. It felt like a cruel prank, and I deliberately skipped
that page every time. Janet told me that we were an epic couple and it made sense to have it in there as
a fragment of history, as if it was a UNESCO World Heritage site of Riverside High.

Flora hadn't signed my yearbook. When I got it back from the cheerleaders, I skimmed over the last few
pages and saw that every one of them signed except for her. I was disappointed but I wasn't surprised.

We were too much of everything to be summed up in a few sentences.

I wished her luck when I signed hers, and I managed to be honest without saying anything I really
wanted to say. I thanked her for everything, but I didn't tell her how much I still loved her, that right
now I couldn't picture myself ever being happy without her, but I was also scared because I didn't want
to drag this on when we should have closed this chapter.

I just wanted her to be happy and to have a good time in the city. It must get lonely there sometimes,
even if it was somewhere as fabulous as Manhattan.

I touched the cover hesitantly, and then I flipped to the page with us dancing. A thin piece of paper was
there, one I never noticed before.

I recognized Flora's handwriting right away.

"Dear Sean,

This is a letter written by Simone de Beauvoir to Nelson Algren, but it conjured up what I want to say
nicely.

I want to tell you only two things before leaving, and then I'll not speak about it anymore, I promise.
First, I hope so much, I want and need so much

to see you again, some day. But, remember, please, I shall never more ask to see you--not from any
pride since I have none with you, as you know, but our meeting will mean something only when you
wish it. So, I'll wait.

But know that I'll always long for your asking me. No, I cannot think that I shall not see you again. I have
lost your love and it was (it is) painful, but shall not lose you.

What you gave me meant so much, that you could never take it back. And then your tenderness and
friendship were so precious to me that I can still feel warm and happy and harshly grateful when I think
of you. I do hope this tenderness and friendship will never, never desert me.

Don't make writing letters of any kind a duty, just write when you feel like it, knowing every time it will
make me very happy.

Your own Flora

I hope our story doesn't end here x"

The letter dug up a fresh supply of emotions that I'd been trying to bury for so long, and it wasn't just
because my baby was now quoting Simone de Beauvoir. My throat tightened as I swallowed. Linda left
me quietly, and I read the letter again, and a third time.

You silly girl, I thought with fondness.

What had I ever done to deserve this kind of devotion? She still cared so much about me. She wanted to
contact me, but she left the choice to me. She was respecting my wish and keeping her distance. I
looked over at the stack of postcards I'd written to her, and knew that we never lost contact with each
other.

We were lucky to get some time and space apart.

She could learn to be more independent and figure out herself in New York, and I could learn to loosen
up and live a little.

Perhaps there were differences that just couldn't be solved with negotiation, by compromising, by tears.
We couldn't find a way to be together now, but maybe we would gradually change our opinions. If we
did but didn't change how we felt about each other, then maybe, someday...

Meanwhile, maybe we could try to be friends. As much as I needed her, Flora might need me in her life
too.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number I could remember by heart. It rang three times, five times--

"Who's this?" An annoyed male voice picked up. "Flora can't come to the phone right now. She's in the
showers."

I was wrong. I did not want her to be happy, not so soon. She couldn't find someone else to replace me
that quickly. "I'm her--"

He laughed. "Sean, I was just messing with you. This is Jeremy," he said. "Flora's brother? We met once
for dinner."

My heart rate started to slow. I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Hi, Jeremy. How are you?"

"I'm great!" he said. "How about you? You're going to MIT, right? It's only two bus stops from Harvard
and I can show you around the area if you want. I know all the great places--"

"Jeremy!" Flora's horrified voice cut in. I could hear them wrestling over the phone. "Oh my God it's
Sean. What did you say to him?"

Jeremy laughed and yelled in the background that I should hang out with him sometime.

"Sean," Flora said breathlessly on the other end. "Sorry about

that. Jeremy's being an idiot as usual."

"It's fine. He's funny." Just a few sentences in, and I realized how much I missed her and her crazy family
already.
"Are you back from Germany?"

I recounted to her briefly about our trip, and Flora responded with great enthusiasm to everything, even
if I was just telling her how many miles we rode on a bike everyday.

"I'm working at a clothing store," she told me when I finished.

"You got a summer job? But you hardly need the money."

"It's mainly for the experience," she said. "It's something productive to do and I want to know how it
feels when money means something. So far I love it."

She went on to tell me how much the customers liked her, no surprise there, and how many friends she
had made already. Sometimes people dropped in just to chat with her and ended up buying anyway. She
gave out arbitrary discounts when she really liked the clothes on her customers.

"I just want them to be able to afford it," she said. "My boss isn't happy with the price I offer them, but
at least I bring in lots of business so it's not like there's anything he can say about it."

She laughed. It was such a delight to hear, and only Flora could make talking about clothes so
interesting. I adored the energy in her voice.

"I might want to be a personal shopper in the future," she said. "I mean I still want to be a fashion
editor, but a personal shopper seems more...personal. I haven't decided yet."

"I think you'll be great at whatever you want to do."

She paused for a second. "If that's the case...I want to be your

friend."

I glanced at the stack of postcards I'd written to her. "Listen, Flora..."

I heard her taking a sharp breath. "I didn't mean to twist your words again. It's just that...it's really nice
to hear your voice. I'm so glad you called me. Can you keep talking for a while longer? Please don't hang
up."

"Actually." I cleared my throat. "I was going to ask if you want to meet for coffee...if you're not doing
anything later."

There was a long silence. My heart jumped around wildly. "Flora?"

"Sean." Flora laughed lightly on the other end, in that flirty, charming way of hers I'd never get enough
of. "See you at The Pavement in an hour. I thought you'd never ask."