Page 92 of Picking Daisies on Sundays

– Don’t Blame Me,Taylor Swift

At sixteen, I fell in love with Levi when he drove me home from work, letting me sleep in the passenger’s seat, despite only being a short walk away. I fell in love with him when he twirled his finger around strands of my hair while we talked in the cafeteria, like it was an unquestionable habit. I fell in love with him as I watched him bake for his sisters and chased them around the living room during movie nights.

I fell in love with him for who he was.

At twenty-two, I fell in love with him because of how he made me feel.

The light hand touches, stolen glances, and compliments that sounded like verses. The handmade gifts and gestures, like the glass daisy bracelet he made me for my 18thbirthday and he had one that matched. (“I wore it every day until I saw you in the bar that day. I didn’t want you to think I was crazy, so I hid it under long sleeves,” he had said. I kissed him in response.) Never making me feel sorry or insecure or weak. For making me feel beautiful and wanted anddesired. He didn’t just notice me in a crowded room, but he sought me out.

We haven’t stopped telling each other stories we kept secret since Sarah’s wedding. While sitting on the turf of one of Claire’s soccer games this summer, I told him when I saw him kiss someone for the first time and how I wanted to vomit.

“That’s why you hated Jennifer O’Brien?” he had asked with a laugh.

“I did not hate her!” I had argued.

“You hit her mailbox,” he said deadpanned. That was unfortunately true, but it wasn’t on purpose. She and Cora Messing just happened to live on the same street and fell victim to my lack of peripheral vision whilst driving.

When we took a trip to the beach in June, he twisted one of his rings off his fingers and dropped it in my palm as he applied sunscreen. He admitted that the two rings he wore every day as a set weren’t meant to be worn together.

“I bought this for you for graduation; it matched the gold earrings you wore all the time.” Obviously, we weren’t speaking at the time, so he wore mine too. I looked down at my hand now in class, where his ring sat on my finger.

Despite living together now in Paris, we didn’t see each other as often as we had anticipated. Most of the times that I didn’t have class or work, Levi was teaching. He taught two afternoon classes and then stayed for office hours, coming back home late at night, planting a kiss on my cheek before sliding into bed with me. We still spent time together trying new restaurants, visiting bookstores, cooking breakfast together, and discovering new pieces of Paris every day.

Paris was as beautiful as I hoped it would be. Of course, therewere the influxes of cigarette smoke in certain side streets and a ludicrous amount of traffic at night that made it impossible to take a cab anywhere, paired with the constant concern of pick pocketers around the metro. But every city had its blemishes; I lived in New York City for four years!

Paris had these gorgeous lights that twinkled above the bridges along the Seine River, desserts that melted in your mouth, and architecture on every street that was worthy of painting. Levi and I visited the Eiffel Tower every night for a week straight when we arrived just to see it sparkle for five minutes. It was so breathtaking that we were completely silent as everyone around us ran to take pictures. I even dropped half of my chocolate croissant that was in my hand.

I haven’t even mentioned the fashion yet! Everyone here had a sense of fashion, regardless of their age. My orientation for ESMOD was a few weeks ago and everyone dressed like they could be caught by paparazzi. Fortunately, everyone spoke English too.

Levi’s been tutoring me in the language all summer, but I was nowhere near capable of having a conversation yet. It made my heart race with anxiety to think about it, but apparently, I wasn’t the only one concerned. I met a few other girls—Kenz, Misha, and Anna—at orientation from the New York area who knew no French either. We went out for coffee after and voiced our shared worries about it and it wasfun. We laughed and shared numbers and took the metro back together. Relief washed over me like an ocean;I had made friends.

It was a genuine concern I had when boarding my flight weeksago: what if I couldn’t make friends? But I was doing this to push myself out of my comfort zone. I couldn’t continue to go through life dreaming and never moving forward. I had to do the scary stuff to get to the good stuff, just like Dad said.

It was overwhelming to realize what a commitment I had made moving to a place where I had no family and no understanding of the language. But I was taking it day by day, and it hasn’t failed me yet. Knowing that I had friends and family coming here to experience some of Paris’s sparkle with me made it easier when thinking of the future too.

Jia’s arriving in a few weeks to pick up some pieces for a client that’s attending next year’s Met Gala—yes, she’s finally going! I’ve never seen someone so excited to take an eight hour flight to shop for earrings before.

Gabe said that him and Oliver would fly out in October. Oliver, Levi’s favorite roommate, was around a lot this summer when we got together with Jia and Gabe, and they hit it off! No more dating apps for Gabe. Then Vera, Daya, and Sandra were planning on coming in May for a big “girl’s trip.” And my mom and Mandy would be here in March for fashion week. It made me so happy that I jumped in place every time I thought about it.

“Now, I wanted to wait until the end of class because I know none of you will be able to focus once I tell you. You’ve all been asking for weeks about fashion week,” my professor, fromLondon—I KNOW, so cool—spoke as she walked around the room. There were about fifty of us in the class falling asleep because of how late the class started, but we were all wide awake now. Paris. Frickin. Fashion Week. Every fashion student’s dream. Since it was mentioned at orientation a month ago, we had all been poking at the professors for a confirmation. “I am excited to tell you that you’ll all be invited to at least one show,” she clapped her hands together with a smile. My head whipped around to Anna, who sat behind me, to give her acan you believe this?!look. She shrieked with joy, as did many of the students in the room. Everyone back home was going tofreak out.

The professor sighed, but smiled, satisfied with our response. “Details will be released in the coming weeks. Class dismissed,” she waved her hand.

Anna, Kenz, Misha, and I jumped from our seats and tackled one another in the hallway. What were we going to wear? Which designer do you think we’ll see? Whatcelebritiesdo you think we’ll see? They were all topics of conversation as we walked out of the building into the cool night air.

“I’m making a Pinterest board for each designer ASAP,” Anna announced.

“That sounds a little excessive,” Kenz laughed.

“I refuse to get caught in the back of a paparazzi photo andnotgo viral for what I’m wearing,” Anna replied.

“I think you’ll be—oh my gosh,” Misha had begun speaking and then halted.

“What is it?” I asked.

She fanned her face. “Your boyfriend is just so hot; it catches me off guard every damn time.”

I followed her gaze to— “Levi!” I ran across the crosswalk and jumped into his arms almost knocking him backwards. He was in his work clothes: a sweater, slacks, and his leather satchel over his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me as my legs wrapped around him, and his head buried itself in my neck.