"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."