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.

***

@azaleavalentino