In philosophy class Mr. Romano used an interesting teaching method. He encouraged us to form discussion groups to brainstorm various topics like truth, honesty, and conformity. Then he'd compare our results with both ancient and modern thinkers.

It was clever. Instead of lecturing on a bunch of random ideas from old, dead guys, he made us ponder the concepts first, which meant they stayed in our minds.

This class felt like home. It was the only other place where I could speak my mind openly and without fear. Kind of like during the debate.

Today's topic? Love.

Woot...

Still, it was cool. I liked Mr. Romano.

He resembled a young Emmett Brown from Back to the Future with his wild hair and tall, gangly features. Full disclosure: I had a bit of a crush on him. No, not a crush per se. More like a deep admiration for his wacky brain. One that made me wish we could discuss the important concepts of life over coffee because I was ten years older and we were friends.

At first Care and I shared our bemusement about the prevalence of sexuality in every corner of modern life. That morphed into a discussion about the difference between love and sex.

We didn't get very far before our duo was interrupted. In a shocking change of affairs, St. Stephen's favorite royals, Nicky and Sarah, deigned to visit us plebes along with their gaggle of followers.

The newcomers gathered around us in a semicircle, slouching or sitting backwards on chairs. My best friend and I gave them all a puzzled look because that strata of society tended to ignore us.

What's up with you?

"We were just talking about dating and the Catholic Church," said Sarah.

Pursing my lips, I leaned back. "Oh?"

"It reminded me of our discussion last month about birth control."

I nodded.

"How can you show your boyfriend physical love before marriage and still be a good Christian?" she asked.

"Do you want my own view or the Catholic Church's?"

"Both."

Exhaling a long breath, I cupped my chin in thought. "Well, the Church says that while you can show affection for your boyfriend, it shouldn't be sexual."

"So you can do everything other than sex?"

"If it's designed to be a sexual experience," I replied, "it's not allowed."

"So no sex acts of any kind?"

Checking to make sure Mr. Romano wasn't in earshot, I lowered my voice. "Full sex isn't allowed, of course. Nothing that resembles it either."

Everyone around her started chuckling. It occurred to me that Sarah didn't ask the question genuinely and might have been trying to get a rise out of me. Well, too bad. She could ask me all the questions she liked.

I wasn't a prude.

"So no oral sex?" asked Nicky.

"No."

"Manual sex?"

"No."

"French kissing?"

"Questionable. Probably not."

"What about touching?" she asked, flustered.

"Hugging, normal kisses, or holding hands is fine," I replied. "But no sexual grabbing."

"So no boobs or butts?"

"Correct."

"Sounds like strict Catholics have no fun," said Nicky with a smirk. "Only hand holding for our dear little Jess."

For the love of God! I just said it's not only hand holding. Pay attention!

"If I had a boyfriend," I said, "I'd stay within the confines of the Church's teachings."

Your preferences have nothing to do with the Church, my conscience hissed at me.

Shut up! That's not the point.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Jess?" asked Nicky.

I squirmed in my seat. This conversation was heading down a road I didn't want to go.

"No, I don't."

"Why not?"

With a sigh I readjusted my glasses. "I have too much work to do. Too much to focus on. I don't have time for a boyfriend."

"Oh, come on!" Sarah chuckled. "Everyone has time for a boyfriend if they really want one."

Bryan sauntered over and sat on one of the desks with a casual slouch forward. No one seemed to understand how to hold themselves upright. Ever. Mr. Romano didn't seem to mind as long as we didn't destroy any school property and spent our time discussing philosophy.

Whenever I said anything about sex or dating, Bryan cast me a furtive glance. He pretended not to listen to us, focusing on his football buddies instead. 

"What's the point of a boyfriend?" I asked bluntly. "Or dating?"

Sarah scoffed. "To have fun."

"Wrong." I gave her a wry smile. "The point of dating is to figure out the kind of person you eventually want in your life. Long-term, I mean."

She balked. "Not always."

"Oh, sure. You'll play around for a while." I began to doodle on my notebook. "You'll tell yourself that it's all fun and games."

"What's wrong with that?"

"In the back of your mind," I said, pointing the pen tip to my forehead, "you're experimenting. Testing the waters. Seeing what you like and don't like in relationships. Am I wrong?"

"How did this become about me?" asked Sarah defensively after a stunned beat.

I stopped drawing and caught her direct gaze. "Well, I don't need to do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to get married or have kids."

Several of the students stopped talking and stared at me, including Bryan. Some chuckled with nerves. Others gave me a funny look like I was some kind of Martian from Pluto.

"Of course you don't want to get married now," said Nicky with an awkward chuckle. "No one in their right mind gets married when they're sixteen."

"No, you misunderstand me." I folded my arms. "I never want to get married."

Cue more incredulous looks.

Dangerous waters, Jess. Dangerous waters.

"In eighth grade Jess wanted to be a nun," said Bryan to the great mirth of everyone.

In eighth grade you wanted to bone me. So shut it!

"Is that true?" Nicky asked in a derisive tone, her emerald eyes twinkling with mischief as she stifled high-pitched laughter. "Sister Jess! Oh, my God! You know, I can see it."

"Can you now?" I asked, my voice like barbed wire as I tilted my head to assess her. "Funny that I can't say the same."

The group reacted with a mixture of "Ooo!" and "Burn!" and "Shutdown!" Nicky appeared about as amused as Queen Victoria.

"No one says you have to get married," said Sarah. "Have some fun. Play around."

"I don't want to play around," I retorted. "Relationships take a lot of work and effort. Why would I go through all that trouble if I know for a fact I don't want anything long term?"

"Well, what do you want?" asked Bryan, his hazel eyes fixed on me.

Silence fell. The intensity in his eyes cut through my protective shield and burned my heart. He didn't ask because of the debate. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he'd asked out of interest.

Instead of a caustic reply, I gave him a genuine answer.

Folding my hands, I rested my chin upon them. "If I had to choose, it would be respectful companionship. An equal partnership. A deep and fulfilling relationship without the sexual component being an expectation or a demand."

Bryan's gaze softened, his lips parting ever so slightly. 

Sarah gave him a playful tap on the shoulder as though to wake him from whatever reverie was dancing through his mind. He came to his senses, adopting his typical laid-back slouch.

"Most guys don't want that," I added. "They want a thrill. Just some fun. The serious ones want to start families, and that's not my thing."

"Not all guys want kids," said Nicky.

"The Catholic Church forbids contraception as you know," I said. "How long can you use the natural method before it goes wrong? And I refuse to have kids. Ever."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

Nicky shrugged. "Whatever."

"So," I said with a half smile, "looks like I'm gonna be a cat lady."

Mr. Romano called us back to class and asked us if we had any revelations from our discussions. A few jeers came from the back when I raised my hand.

He called on me. "Jess?"

"We discussed whether you need a relationship to feel happy and whole," I said in an attempt to sum up our more polemic and immature discussion.

"An excellent topic!" said Mr. Romano with enthusiasm. "This leads us into Kierkegaard. Does anyone know what he says about dating?"

No one raised their hand.

"He postulates that people become their best selves in a loving, committed relationship," continued the nerdy philosophy teacher with wild gesticulations.

No one yawned in his class. He had the same wacky facial expressions as Doc Brown and resembled a runaway windmill.

"Another guy who didn't know how to have fun," said Nicky. "Hey, Jess! Maybe you should date him!"

"I don't date at all," I retorted. "Didn't you get the memo?"

"Be that as it may," interjected Mr. Romano, "Kierkegaard would actually disagree with Jess."

"Sounds sensible," chimed in Sarah from the back row, resulting in a chorus of laughter.

At me, of course. Not with me.

Fuck you guys.

I ignored their jibes, tilting my head quizzically as I scribbled notes from Mr. Romano's frantic scrawling on the board. Thanks to the relative silence, I heard Bryan mumbling to Sarah under his breath. 

"Enough, will ya? Jeez leave her alone."

"Keep it in your pants," she hissed in reply. 

I cast a quick glance at them. Sarah glared at Bryan while he sank down into his seat, trying to look cool despite his flushed cheeks.

Never mind them. Focus.

"Kierkegaard says truth is found not in memorizing a bunch of facts but by relating to each other's experiences," he said. "If you remain on your own, you can't do that effectively."

Sarah piped up. "He basically said, 'What would Jess do?' and then said, 'Do the opposite.'"

I shot her a caustic glare.

"He would say you can't discover the truth alone," said Mr. Romano in a firm tone, "but by interacting with others. Loving each other. Seeing the world through someone else's eyes."

"Can't you do that in the context of friendship?" I asked.

"Absolutely," replied Mr. Romano. "In fact, that leads us to another philosopher, C.S. Lewis."

"Wait a second, didn't he write the Chronicles of Narnia?" asked Nicky with a perplexed look.

"Very good, Nicky." Mr. Romano scribbled types of love on the board next to C of N. "But he also was a philosopher and a theologian. Which explains the Christian overtones in his work."

He drew four branches out from types of love, creating a mind map. "What types are there?"

"Friendship," I answered.

"Good." He wrote it down. "Others?"

"Sex!" shouted a football player I didn't recognize.

"Erotic love, or eros," said Mr. Romano as he jotted it down on another branch. "More?"

"Family?" asked Bryan.

"Yes, perfect!" Mr. Romano pointed at Bryan, animated. "Unconditional love. And?"

"Self-esteem?" suggested Care.

Mr. Romano wrote it off to the side. "That's definitely a type of love, but not according to Lewis."

The class fell silent. I racked my brains but couldn't come up with another kind.

"Affection," said Mr. Romano.

I groaned on the inside. Of course. We'd just talked about it in our little circle.

"Enjoying something—or someone—outside the realm of eros," he added.

"Is that possible?" I asked, prompting a chorus of chortles from the rest of the class. "What I mean is: What's the difference between affection and friendship exactly?"

"Good question, Jess." Our teacher swept the room with his gaze, inviting us to answer. "You can feel an enjoyment of someone's presence that goes beyond friendship but doesn't include eros. Perhaps one could call it romantic love. Emotional love. Or deep platonic love."

The bell rang.

That struck a chord in me. A new revelation. Something I'd never considered before. That was why I loved Mr. Romano's class.

Affection. I could get on board with that.

"For the next class please read Chapter four," he said above the din of students grabbing their books. "You'll find out more about Kierkegaard, Lewis, de Beauvoir, Satre, and Camus."

As we hurried towards French class, Care gave me a playful nudge. "Hey, what was up with Bryan today?"

"He's giving off strange mixed signals as always." I rolled my eyes. "Shoot a guy down once—never live it down."

"I don't know, Jess." She fidgeted, shifting the books in her arms. "While you guys were talking, he seemed kinda intense. Later on Sarah looked a bit pissed off to be honest."

"Yeah, well, they need to get over themselves," I growled. "He's dating Sarah, not me. Thank goodness. All he's interested in is his own self-gratification, and I want no part of that."

"Whereas what's his name..."

"Eric?"

Care cast me a suspicious look, a smile dancing on her lips. "Oh, someone's falling hard."

"Oh, shush! I'm not falling for anyone." I stifled a smile. "I gave you his name."

"Whatever. Let's sit near him again," said Care. "It gets boring when he's not in our group. No offense."

"Maybe you're falling for him."

"I like him." She nodded. "But I refuse to fall for my best friend's guy."

"He's not my guy."

Care scoffed. "Not yet."

We entered the French classroom, which was half full. When Care asked Eric if she could sit on his left, he gave her an absentminded nod. His eyes came alight after I'd given him a friendly greeting.

"Bonjour, Jess."

"Ça va, Eric?"

"Je vais mieux," he replied. I'm feeling better.

I gave him a smile. When Eric blushed, it sent a wave of tingles through me.

"Puis-je parler avec toi après les cours?" he asked me. Can I talk to you after class?

"Bien-sûr," I replied. Of course.

Even though I tried to keep it cool, my heart hammered against my ribs. Why did Eric want to talk to me?

Oh, God! Is he going to ask me out?

Once again I had to remind myself not to embarrass myself by repeating the Jack the Jock Laughing Incident of 1996. Especially after seeing Care's silent but ecstatic reaction to his request.