Kissing Is the Easy Part

Chapter 58 The vampire party

Sean

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.