Six days ago, Diane Martinez stumbled upon a bouquet of orange blossoms that had been crammed in her gym locker. A yellow note, wrinkled from stress, was attached to her surprise present. In loopy handwriting, it read:

     To Diane,

     My love for you dies when these flowers die.

     Diane was, to put simply, bewildered. Despite her many attempts to reform, she was a college student eating, breathing, exercising, procrastinating, and sleeping the single life. She didn't have a significant other or a friend with benefits or a one-time-hook-up-partner or anything like such. The last time she dated someone was a year ago, and according to Facebook (she kept in touch with him sparingly), he was currently residing in another country.

     My love for you dies when these flowers die.

     The message rang an uncanny bell, but all sense came rushing to her when she noticed something peculiar about the blossoms upon closer inspection.

     They were artificial. Fake. Not real, not capable of wilting and deteriorating in the slightest. They were forever, surpassing beyond the borders of time and age.

     It was eternal love from an anonymous admirer.

     As determined as Diane was to unravel the mysteries shrouding her anonymous admirer, she didn't have the time to do so. Already, she had been bombarded with reviews and assignments, all in preparation for her hellish semester exams, which rendered her curiosity from stirring her to action.

     Six days later, a pair of twin glasses clinked together, crying out cheers. Diane downed her Sprite, taking in the sparkling soft drink with hasty gulps. Giggles bubbled from her after she drained her cup dry. She wanted to get drunk on soda tonight.

     "It's over," she breathed, a shaky exhale ghosting her lips.

     Lexi slurped her tea, not sparing a reply. She hadn't spared many replies lately. Steam veiled her features with thin fog. She cast her cup aside on the table, next to Diane's empty one. Her fingers sketched circles into the wooden surface.

     "Finals are finally over," Diane continued, beaming brighter than the constellations that garnished the midnight sky. They were out in the patio, rejoicing in the end of the semester. "God, I had to stuff so much info into my skull."

     Lexi, while still intent on carving circles, offered a distant "Yeah," in response.

     "Exams kill. These ghostly raccoon bags underneath my eyes prove that."

     "Yeah," came another reply, identical to before. Aloof. Detached. Lifeless.

     "It turns out I have a flight to catch in Iceland tomorrow." That line was, in all obviousness, false, but it served as hopeful diversion that would snap Lexi to attention.

     "Yeah." The diversion failed to rouse curiosity.

     A pause. "Hey, is something on your mind?"

     Lexi combed through her bangs with her fingers. She chose not to reply.

     Diane tossed a skeptic look. "You know you can talk-"

     "I'm fine," Lexi cut off, curt and loud. Not a second later she stiffened, flinching at the venom that grazed her tone. "Sorry. I'm tired, that's all."

     It was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it. Diane didn't call her out though. She didn't say anything. Silence weighed down on them, heavy and tense. Her head wilted, only to be propped up with both hands. She was grasping for something, anything, to ignite a new conversation. Resuming the one they share now seemed like an awkward choice of action that would result in flames.

     "Um . . ." She paused, quiet for a long moment. "So," she stretched out a vowel, "I noticed that you packed your belongings up."

     "I'm spending a few days over at the studio starting tomorrow. I have a show to perform."

     "Oh." A brief gap of silence ensued. "How come you didn't you tell me about it sooner?"

     "It slipped from my mind."

     That was it. 

     With a clatter, Diane shot to her feet, jolting out from her chair. Her hands slapped the table, encouraging an ear-pounding bam to ricochet in the air.

     "I feel like you've been avoiding me lately," she blurted, the words unleashed like a geyser, free from a whole week's restraint. She raked a hand through her tangled mop of mud-brown hair, brushing aside the fringes that blocked half her face. "I mean, I thought it was because of exams, and that would be understandable, but it's not, is it?"

     No response.

     "Is it?" Diane prodded. "Well?"

     "Yeah," came Lexi's soft-spoken answer.

     Guilt settled in Diane's bones, racing down her spine and creasing her face with doubts. "Hey, did I do something?"

     "No-"

     "Then what?"

     "I'm just - I've been regretting something I did." Lexi chewed on her lower lip, her ebony cheeks sporting a scarlet hue. With trembling shoulders, she rose from her seat. Her hair shielded her eyes. "I don't want to talk anymore. I'm leaving."

     She retreated inside their apartment, leaving Diane choked up with unspoken words.