Teresa always thought of love as a choice.
It made sense, really, considering how a person would choose someone he or she deemed worthy of his or her hand in marriage. You could definitely choose whom you wanted to be your boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife.
She didn't want that.
In her opinion, love held you down. It made you soft and prone and vulnerable to being hurt by the very person you "loved". Her father had fallen in love with her mother and look where that had gotten him.
She didn't want it.
.
.
.
.
"All right, class, we have a new student here today. He's just transferred from"—the teacher pauses to glance down at her papers—"San Francisco," she turns to look at the boy, "What's your name?"
"Uh, Thomas," the new student says. His voice isn't deep, but it isn't high either, and Teresa feels that it's a pleasant change from the macho images the other boys who tried so desperately to up their game exaggerated.
"Well, Thomas, you can go over and sit in that free seat by Newt right there."
"Yes, ma'am," Thomas says quietly as he moved down the aisles, head down, and Teresa somehow wants to know him.
.
.
.
The lights are bright and extravagant and beautiful in Minho's parents' massive house, and Teresa wishes she could slip away.
She looks around and sips her beer and winces as someone she doesn't know steps on her foot. Everyone's already plastered, and she cringes as one of the football players tries to dance and flirt with her.
"Sorry, er— Gally, I have to go," She says moving past him. He starts to say something but is cut off when one of the cheerleaders comes up and grabs his bicep.
.
.
It's hot and humid, and Teresa's sitting on the beach with Brenda with a soda. She can see the Thomas playing volleyball with Newt and Minho and some other boy she doesn't recognize. She excuses herself to Brenda, gets up, and tries to find a bathroom, but instead slams into someone's chest and spills her soda on his shirt.
"Oh, shit, Thomas, I'm sorry, I—" she lets out a high, nervous laugh and feels her face go red with embarrassment, but he only smiles, shakes his head, and offers to buy her a new one.
.
Teresa always thought love was a choice, but she lies with Thomas on the grass, staring up at the stars with his fingers entangled in her hair, and she doesn't wish it to be any other way.