Valentine’s Day.
I’d been dreaming about it for weeks-the day, the cards, and especially the dance. And of course, whenever I thought about Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t help but think about Michael.
But I wasn’t expecting anything special, really. I’m an ordinary girl. Ordinary girls can’t expect anything more than the usual when it comes to a holiday like this.
When I get to my locker on Valentine’s Day-there it is. A delicate pink rose, petals that gently spiral and caress my skin as I press the bloom to my cheek.
Ayana is just behind me, and she is staring at the flower in shock. “Oh my God, Brittany! Who is it from?”
I turn the gentle blossom over in my hand, a frown creasing my forehead as I avoid touching any of the rose’s thorns.
“I have no idea,” I replied.
“I do,” said a voice.
Ayana and I whipped our heads around.
Michael!
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Brittany,” he said shyly.
I couldn’t help it—the widest smile broke onto my face.
“Go to the dance with me?” he asked.
Would I?
“You bet,” I said.