So… Valentine’s Day.
In all our years overseas, I never really put all that much stock in Valentine’s Day. Even in those times when the places we were stationed did celebrate it, it never seemed like all that high of a priority to me. There was a silent understanding among those social circles that we would only be there so long. No point in starting something that can’t be finished. At least, that was how it used to be.
“The whole thing’s overrated,” insists Henry, adjusting his aviators as I click open the door to my locker. “Ever since eighth grade, mom has always guilted me into asking out the least popular girl in class. Unfortunately, so far, they’ve all been unpopular for a reason.” When I don’t respond, he furrows his brow, cocking his head slightly. “Advika?”
Slowly, very slowly, I pull a small red envelope out from the bottom of my locker, my eyes flicking suspiciously from it to Henry’s face. Raising his hands defensively, he grins. “Hey, you’re way too normal for my mom’s taste.”
“Thanks.” As he watches, I quickly slide a finger along the flap, flipping it up and sliding out the flower-covered card inside. Opening it, I scan the invitation, my eyes flicking quickly down to the signature at the bottom. Lucas Hansen. That’s when my heart stops.
The thing you’ve gotta understand about Lucas is that he is essentially the male equivalent of Madison Jacobs from the personality test incident, living proof that gorgeous and brilliant aren’t mutually exclusive (still unfair!). There’s not a girl in school who hasn’t whispered her secret passion for him at least once in the girl’s locker room, including, I’m embarrassed to say, me. At the time, it was more of an effort to fit in than anything else. Our difference in status alone was enough to cut off any daydreaming at the knees, but now that it was actually possible… did I mention the gorgeous and brilliant combo?
Sensing someone watching me, I look up just in time to see Lucas way down the hall glance away from me, his eyes twinkling slightly. Rather than a cute blush, a small, pink rash shifts to life across my left cheek, quickly blinking out of existence again as I raise a hand defensively to my face. Looking over my shoulder at the signature, Henry grins. I’m either the luckiest girl in school… or dead.
“Just be yourself,” he whispers, reading my thoughts. “Really, Advika, no guy asks out a girl he isn’t already interested in.” Slowly, I turn to stare at him, my eyes squinting. “Well,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, “almost no guy.”
When Lucas finally arrives with a bouquet of dasies to pick me up on Valentine’s, I’m so nervous I have to hide my hands to keep him from seeing the changing lengths of my fingers. Only when the waiter seats us at a candle-lit table can I breathe for the first time. Dim light is my best friend right now.
I’m almost halfway through the menu when I notice him staring at me. He’s not trying to hide it, not even touching his menu, just leaning back in his chair with a small smile across his face. Feeling my face grow warm, I slowly lower the menu to the table, brushing a small lock of hair out of my face. “I’ve… I’ve never actually done this before.”
Raising an eyebrow, he grins. “Ordered?”
“Dated.”
“Very overrated,” he quips, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing breaking the ruse, “if my parents would let me, I’d join a convent to get out of it.”
I can’t help it. I grin. “Monastery. A convent’s for girls.”
His eyes grow wide, and he slaps a hand dramatically to his forehead. “That’s why they were looking at me funny!”
My smile growing, I match his posture, fixing my hair again a bit self-consciously. “Can… can I ask you a question?”
“You mean another one?”
“Why… me?”
“Are you kidding?” He grins, shaking his head. “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but ever since you first got to school, since I first saw you in the hall, I knew I had to talk to you.”
Fighting to keep smiling, I shift in my seat. “Oh?”
“I don’t mean to be creepy about it or anything,” he assures, his grin growing as he leans forward, “but man, Vicky. You’re like… really my type.”
That’s all it takes. As we turn back to the menus, I feel as though I’m going to throw up. Of all the things he could have said or done, there’s none that could have made me feel worse. Before I have a chance to make him pay for anything more than my water, I excuse myself to the restroom, making a quick exit out its back window. I’ve already cheated him enough. When I finally make it home, I don’t lie. I tell them how he was charming and kind and seemed to really like me. Luckily, they don’t ask what we had to eat.
I’m on the back porch when Henry arrives. His tie partially undone, he sinks onto the porch swing beside me, blowing out a long breath. Glancing over at him, I force a smile. “You too?”
Adjusting his glasses, he grins weakly. “Well… let’s just say when my date and I saw you leave from the other side of the restaurant, she not-so-suddenly hinted that we should keep Lucas company ’til you got back. Last I saw them, they were planning the names of their future kids.” I smile in spite of myself. Feeling the shift, he stands, looking down at me pointedly. “Do you want to go to the movies?”
Startled, I blink. “What?”
“Do you want to go to the movies?”
Squinting up at him, I shake my head slowly. “You don’t have to comfort me, Henry.”
“I know,” he admits, grinning a little sheepishly as he pulls two tickets out of his pocket, “but… they aren’t refundable.” Hesitating, he stares down at me, pursing his lips uncertainly. “So…?”
Slowly, very slowly, I cross my arms, smirking slightly as I squint up at him. “Only if you let me buy the popcorn.”
Grinning, he reaches out a hand, his aviators nearly falling off in the act. “Deal.”
Yes, I know that technically the failed start to a date added to an explicit ‘non-date’ doesn’t exactly make the most perfect Valentine’s Day, but the plastic toy on the top of my theater cup begs to differ. Some things in life will be more complicated for me. I know that. Sometimes, even when they try, some people won’t understand me. But that’s okay. Even if they don’t, if there is just one person who does, one person who knows me well enough to join me on the porch swing when I’m down and let me buy the popcorn, that person could make all the difference in the world.