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.

***