Page 85 of Kissing is the Easy Part

“We’ve got that covered. Flora will name it Christian. Middle name Dior.”

She laughs. “If you hurry, you can catch Christian’s mom before class.”

* * *

Flora is hanging around Madison’s locker with Carmen. I seem to have developed tunnel vision—she’s in the center, and everything else defocuses.

“I heard Flora took you back,” Madison says as I approach. “How wonderful. I mean, recycling is good for the environment.”

“Congrats!” Carmen, ever the balance to Madison’s negativity, beams. “It’s great you guys worked things out.”

“If you hurt her again”—Madison jabs a finger at me—“I’ll make sure you regret every second for the rest of your miserable life. And let me clarify the question on everyone’s mind—howstupidcould you be? I thought you were a cruel jackass, but now it’s clear you’re just an idiot. You owe us all a massive apology for the emotional turmoil you put us through.”

“Okay, I deserve that,” I say. “But can we do a onetime roast and get it over with? Instead of reliving this every time you see me?”

“Way to make this about you, Mads,” Flora says, smiling. “Don’t you need to go eat some small children or something?”

“Small children are hardly vegan.” Madison chuckles anyway, like an afterthought. “I meant to say congratulations too. It came out wrong because I’m a bit allergic to happy people.”

“Thanks.” I’m too happy to come up with a comeback.

Flora grabs my elbow and waves goodbye to her friends. “Excuse us. We need to go andbe happynow.”

When she leads me over to the side of the building to kiss me, I don’t protest. We’ve become the kind of annoying couple who makes out in public, but considering everything, we’ve earned it. For three days, at least.

It’s not easy to pull apart but we manage. I have to remind myself she’s going to class instead of to war. I walk her to her classroom even though I’ll be late to mine.

“See you at lunch,” she says.

The bell rings. She leaves a whiff of jasmine on my sleeve.

* * *

My life begins to be divided up into fragments, and the chunks of time in between become irrelevant, lost in the static. It’s transformed into a conveyor belt of waking up, catching Flora before class, a blur, then lunch, then history class, where I stare at her chocolate-colored head from three rows behind. Another blur, class ends, and we spend every last drop of time together. The boundary of reality dissolves into a field of jasmine.

We went to the show with Josie. We attended the homecoming dance together, dancing exclusively with each other, staying true to our tradition. My dad snapped another photo before we left, which I shared on my account, bringing my total posts to six.

One day in history class, Flora and I text each other until my phone runs out of power.

Flora:Dear Sean, it’s very difficult for me to concentrate with you radiating heat from 3 rows behind. I want to serve you in your chamber

Sean:Dear chambermaid, we’re on page 213. Stop fantasizing about my hotness

Flora turns to wink at me, and all the words from page 213 melt away.

* * *

“Whatisit about Flora that keeps you crawling back for more?” Jake asks at lunch a few days later, and Dylan gives me a look that can only be described as inappropriate. “If you’re willing to branch out, I hear some juniors are very into your whole broody, tortured energy.”

“Jacob, I don’t have tortured energy. And no, thank you.”

Right then, Flora slides into the seat next to me, trailing a hand along my shoulder blades. “What are you guys talking about?”

“I’m telling him he can do better than you.” Jake grins. “I’m sick of all your friends. I was hoping Sean could bring some fresh blood into this group, but we’re stuck with you again.”

Flora swipes a handful of fries off my tray and pelts him with them. Jake laughs, ducking just in time.

“Are you coming to my place Saturday night for the game?” Dylan asks me. It’s our custom to watch NBA games together, especially the important ones. This year Dylan’s basketball captain, and his obsession with strategy is even more intense.