Chapter Twenty-six
Sean
The sky is overcast, and the air feels damp. The street glistens with moisture. Flora stands by her car, waiting. As soon as she sees me, she runs up and pulls me into a hug. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, and for a moment, we stand there in silence, holding each other.
She tilts her head. The vintage-looking cap I gave her suits her. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders, brushing against her leather jacket. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks. Should I say hi to your family?”
“Please don’t.” I nudge her toward her car, and she laughs. Every minute is precious.
She starts the car and says, “I have the whole day planned.”
We haven’t said anything concrete about getting back together, but it’s the direction I’m heading for. Does taking me out mean she’s considering it? I’m ready to take whatever she tosses my way. Give me a sign, please. I even miss the way she speeds and how my body jerks forward at every red light.
“Ta-da.” She pulls into the parking lot of the science museum. “This is where people like you hang out, right?”
“I’ve actually never been to one outside of field trips.”
She planned this for me. When we get out of the car, she links her arm through mine and drags me to the ticket booth. Moments later, we’re in the exhibit hall, surrounded by skeletons of dinosaurs.
The museum is massive, with high ceilings that stretch toward skylights. The walls are lined with polished glass displays showing off fossils, rocks, and scientific models. It’s a quiet, contemplative space, filled with the soft hum of interactive exhibits as people move through the halls.
Flora seems really into me today, and I feel drunk already. She touches my face and smiles a lot, and she clutches my arm when we ride up the escalator, her fingers brushing over my skin. After enduring two weeks of her cold avoidance, this delicious whiplash leaves me completely undone.
We pass through an energy demonstration showing how wind turbines convert wind into green energy. She asks, “Why do you want to be an engineer?”
“To create things that move, like a robotic arm. Or a plane engine that roars to life.”
“And you like physics so much.”
“I like the clarity of it. When you finish a problem, you know whether you’re right. It’s straightforward.” Which is exactly what we aren’t right now.
“I like ambiguity. Like fashion. No right or wrong, only what makes you happy.” She jabs at a button that triggers an avalanche simulation and then gasps when a rush of snow surges toward her.
All my previous “relationships” were like melting snow—light and fleeting, evaporating before the chance to transform into anything substantial. But Flora. Flora is an avalanche that crashes into my life.
“Science is fun!” she says. “But it’s mostly because I’m here with you. I like you so much, I might combust.”
We need to talk about why we broke up before. But maybe not in the middle of her taking a rare interest in scientific wonders. What if it triggers a major fight? I can’t risk ruining it when we’re finally good again.
No, better than good. When Flora likes me, it leaves me powerless. I take her hand when we walk through the earthquake simulation. Never thought I’d get this back, to have her fingers intertwined with mine, and when she smiles at me, I can forgive and forget everything because I want her too much.
“What’s this?” She tugs on my hand.
The whisper dishes are set up with two identical, concave plates positioned across the room from each other, designed to collect and reflect sound waves.
I explain the setup, and Flora urges me to head to the opposite side. “Can you hear me?” she asks from her end.
“Yeah, but it’s muffled.”
“This is a dream come true. To date you again and kiss you wherever I want.”
“Probably not wherever you want. There are kids around.”
She laughs, her voice swirling around me like a galaxy of lights. “Say something nice to me.”
With my heart thumping, I say the only thing that has circled my mind all morning. “I want to get back together.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“I want to get back together.”
“You want to what?”
“To get back . . .” My face flames. Eyes turn toward me, the room seeming to hum with awareness. I step sideways from the dish, and Flora smiles slyly at me across the room.
I hop off my platform and move toward her, but as soon as I take a step, she takes off running. By the time I catch up, she’s sprinted all the way to an empty stairway, and we crash into each other, both laughing, breathless. I corner her and trap her with my forearms. “I know you heard me.”
She laughs, and she’s heart-stoppingly beautiful. “I forgot what you were saying. Say it again.”
I lean down and whisper, my voice low, “Please be my girlfriend again. Please.”
“Yes.” She kisses me. “Yes. Yes. Yes . . .” Each yes is interrupted by a peck landing along my chin and jawline. On the fourth one, I pull her closer and kiss her properly.
I don’t even care why we broke up anymore.