Chapter Twenty-seven
Flora
My relationship status is officially back to being Sean Foster’s girlfriend, and I want to shout it from the rooftops of the science museum.
Or maybe I’ll just tell Instagram.
We find a small booth to ourselves where they show documentaries on a screen. Sean presses the button, and a couple of Greenland huskies appear on the monitor. He fumbles with the controls, but there’s no sound. “Maybe the speaker’s broken.”
Who cares? I grab his face and kiss him savagely.
He lets me roam around his mouth for about four seconds before he pulls away. “I want to kiss you, too, but this so-called ‘private’ spot really isn’t as secluded as you think.”
I trace his jawline with my knuckles. “I can’t help it. You’re so incredibly cute.”
“We’ll find the next dark corner.” He wraps one arm around me, and I lean back on his chest.
The huskies run around the ice field in silence on-screen, their white fur quivering in the arctic wind, and the faint thrum of Sean’s heartbeat is beneath me.
He draws circles on my shoulder, and we watch the animals, not talking.
Being with him here is one of the most compelling moments of my life.
When the short film ends, I sigh. “This is so romantic.”
He pretends to grimace. “The science museum? You’re such a dork. I can’t be seen with you.”
“It’s not about the location. It’s because I never thought we’d get back together. You’re perfect, even though you only have three pairs of shoes and I’m tired of all of them.”
“You’re perfect, too, even though you’re filthy rich and you can’t stop posting on social media.”
Without me needing to ask, he presses Replay on the screen.
We’re obviously soulmates.
* * *
We sit down in the museum café for Sean’s hourly caffeine fix.
A woman at the next table is desperately trying (and failing) to keep her two kids under control.
One of them is banging his toy horse on the table, while the other is drawing and tossing crayons in every direction.
When both start screaming, Sean stills for a second before he lifts his coffee.
Of course he won’t stare; that’s him being nonchalant and sexy as usual.
The mom grabs an empty water bottle from her bag and tries to open it with one hand while her other hand keeps the crayons from hitting the floor.
I lean across and catch her eye. “Hi, need some help?”
“Actually, yeah, I was hoping to get some water, but they’re having a rough day.”
“I’ll get it for you,” I say. “And if you need anything else from the café, let me know.”
Her face softens with relief. “Thanks. You’re such a sweetheart.”
My mom calls me sweetheart, too, but she’s never flustered like this in public. To her, she’s an executive first, a wife second, and a mom third, and she gets everything done right. I don’t mind the order, but I sometimes wish the percentages were weighted a little differently.
“Do you want to wait for me here?” I ask Sean.
He sets his coffee cup down, finished. “Let’s meet at the gift shop later. There’s something I want to get.”
* * *
Sean examines the stone and mineral collection.
After paying for his purchase, he borrows a pen from the cashier and writes.
The cashier says something to him, and he smiles.
It’s the detached kind he forces out to fit in, but when he sees me, he smiles with the edge of his eyes crinkled up. The kind he reserves for me.
People like him because he’s smart and good looking, but Sean doesn’t do the whole nice to everyone thing. Although polite and respectful, he’s always a little aloof. When he chooses to open up, it’s because he decides to truly let someone in.
I’m not some random person getting the same treatment as everyone else; I’ve earned it, unlocked a level few get to reach.
I wander over to the postcard section and pick one with an octopus (it’s such an intelligent species, and it even has mood swings), then write him a quick note. Please remember this day with a smile and know that once upon a time, you made a girl ridiculously happy.
Sean catches up to me and hands me a small paper bag with scribbled words on top. “Please don’t laugh.”
To the mysterious girl who fell from the sky: you hit me harder than a meteor. Inside the bag is a chunk of fake black stone.
“You’re so cheesy.”
I adore it.
Meteors are a girl’s favorite kind of rock.
* * *
After the museum, I drive us to a pristine lake with a hiking trail around it.
The drizzle has finally stopped, but the sky remains a soft gray, with sunlight beginning to peek through.
The view is glorious. We complete the walk and get back to my car, and I pop the trunk, taking out the picnic basket I prepared for a late lunch.
I made it myself—sandwiches with truffle cream, chilled Mariage Frères tea, and Valrhona chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Thanks for putting so much thought into this.” Sean eats the last strawberry I feed to him. He tilts his head back, letting the sunlight fall on his face.
I collect the plates and put everything back in the basket. “Are you bored? Wanna get going?”
“No, I like it here.”
“Don’t you want to do something fun?”
He rolls over and props himself on his elbows. “There is something fun I have in mind. Lots of high-school couples are doing it every day, and I’ve always wanted to do it with you.”
“No, thanks. I don’t want to study together.”
He laughs. “Can we not do anything other than be with each other? This is really nice.” He pulls me down so I’m lying in his arms, and I play with his fingers.
Up in the trees overhead, a bird chirps. There’s a gentle breeze and leaves rustle as a response.
I say, “Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
Sean’s eyes spring open, and he looks at me with mock disbelief. “You can’t keep quiet for even two seconds.”
“It must be something painfully mild, like abandoning groceries in the wrong aisle. Or cheating on a few tests in middle school.”
“Actually, I never cheated on tests.”
I gasp. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“In seventh grade, there was this bully at my school. I hacked into his game account and stole all his weapons. I felt terrible about it afterward.”
Sean says this in such a serious manner, like he genuinely regrets it, and my heart flutters. He’s so pure. “Were you bullied yourself?”
“No, but every morning on the school bus, he’d torment this other kid.
Call him names, get the rest of us to laugh along.
Even Dylan chimed in once or twice. Not making excuses, but Dylan lost his dad around that time, and he took it hard.
He was angry all the time, lashing out at everything.
I hated watching it happen. One day I told him he’s better than that, and he stopped and even wrote an apology card to make amends.
That’s why my mom calls him a sweet kid and why my dad told you I was bitter in middle school. ”
“But it sounds like you stood up for this kid.”
“No, I didn’t join in, that’s all. I could’ve done more. Sometimes I wish I had, but I generally hate confrontations. I’m the kind of person who never says anything when the server gets my order wrong.”
But he called me a piece of work. He said I was in love with myself. His eyes are clear and innocent now, and I can’t wrap my head around it.
I swallow, fighting the knot in my throat. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why did we break up last year?”
He holds my gaze, and slowly, he says, “Flora, you cheated on me.”
The sentence doesn’t register at once. Of all the possible reasons, this has never crossed my mind. I’d be less surprised if he told me he was an undercover assassin and only did it to protect me. “What? No, I didn’t!”
“Don’t lie.” Sean pulls away from me and a muscle moves near his jaw. “This is part of the reason I said nothing before. I didn’t want to hear you lie to me again.”
“I’m not lying. I never even considered cheating on you.”
“With Raymond Corbett.”
I’ve hung out with Raymond eight billion times, but we’re merely friends who goof together, not to mention cheating on Sean with Ray is a preposterous idea. Isn’t that like cheating on Bradley Cooper with that funny bearded guy in The Hangover? Come on.
“The night before my physics test,” he says with difficulty.
It takes me a second, but the memory clicks.
“He came over, we drank and hung out. I didn’t tell you right away because we were fighting and you had your test. I planned to tell you later.
” My head spins. “But that’s all we did!
He brought beer, he smoked, we gossiped, then he left.
He tried to kiss me goodbye, but it meant nothing.
He kisses everyone when he’s drunk, and that night, with his parents splitting up, he was especially out of it. He doesn’t even remember it.”
Sean’s face blanches, color draining like petals wilting under a cold front.
“It’s true. But you were studying. How did you know about this—and why would you ever think . . . ?”
“I staked out your apartment. Not proud of it. Honestly, I hate that I even went there. I was spiraling and didn’t know what else to do.
I kept telling myself I was being paranoid, but you lied on the phone, and I wanted to prove myself wrong.
But I saw you together, and the next day you lied again to my face. ”
“I’m so sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I lied, that was wrong. I thought I’d wait for a better moment to bring it up, which was terrible judgment. But I never cheated on you. I would never cheat on you.”
“I assumed . . . that’s what happened?” His voice is unsteady, eyes wide with panicked realization. “So you never cheated on me,” he says, testing the sound of it on his tongue.
“No.”
After inhaling and exhaling several times, he closes his eyes. “Then I was fucking wrong about everything. We broke up over nothing.”