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.

***