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!

***

I'm sorry they're not running back to each other first chance they get, but it's happening. I don't think it's realistic for them to start pouring their heart out

There's a photo of Beckham and his Louis Vuitton Keepall on the side. Please still vote even if you hate the bag.