He was wearing a T-shirt that
said FULL FRONTAL
NERDITY, and his corn silk hair kept falling into
his eyes. "But don't you wish it could be true?" I
asked him. "Don't you wish love was so strong it could
come back to haunt you?"
I told him the story of my mother, who one
night had woken up at 3:14am with a mouth full of violet petals and
the scent of roses so thick in the air that she could not breathe.
An hour later she was roused by a phone call: her own mother, a
flourist by trade, had died of a ehart attack at 3:14am.
"Science can't answer everything," I told Henry.
"It doesn't explain love."
"Actually it does," he told me.
"There have been all kinds of studies done. People are more
attracted to people with symmetrical features, for example. And
symmetrical men smell better to women. Also, people who have
similar genetic traits are attracted to each other. It probably has
something to do with evolution."
I burst out laughing. "That is
awful," I said. "That is the most
unromantic thing I've ever heard."
"I don't think so..."
"Oh, really. Say something that will sweep
me off my feet," I demanded.
Henry looked at me for a long moment, until I
could feel my head growing lighter and dizzier. "I think you
might be perfectly symmetrical," he said.
Emma, House Rules