Authors: Deborah Kreiser
Pete picks me up for school in the morning and gives me a box of chocolate and a teddy bear. I am thrilled by the gifts, never having had a date for Valentine's Day before, but am also wondering about the teddy bear. Leia would know I'm not really into stuffed animals â talk about corny. Nevertheless, I thank Pete with an enthusiastic kiss. It's the thought that counts, right?
“Save the chocolate till after lunch, okay?” Pete tells me as I start to open the package. I mentally roll my eyes. “And eat only one piece per day, right? We don't want you getting fat.”
That stops me in my tracks.
What?
Yeah, I care about my health, but I've never before worried about my weight â I wasn't called Bean Pole for nothing. Does he think I'm gaining?
He must have noticed the look on my face, because he winks and adds, “But don't worry, babe, you're still smokin' hot. Your curves are in all the right places. I just want you to keep it that way.”
“Um, okay,” I answer, still uncertain. I decide to let the whole thing slide and focus instead on the day I have ahead. “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Not gonna tell you! Keep your evening free!”
Must be dinner and a movie, I surmise. Works for me.
When we arrive at school, Pete gives me a kiss and says it will have to hold me until English. His flower should be delivered then, and I can't wait to see his face when he gets it. I am surprised when, in each of my classes before English, I receive a rose signed by
Secret Admirer
. I'm not sure if all of these roses are from Leia â it doesn't look like her handwriting â and I would have thought Pete would sign his name. Well, maybe this is part of his surprise. I store them in my locker, just in case.
English class has already started when Rachel Meadows, the star thespian, enters with the class's delivery. First she gives Pete his rose, signed by me, and he reaches over, grabs my hand, and kisses the back of it.
“Thank you, my lady,” he says in his best Shakespearean style.
I giggle, and the rest of the class whoops while other roses are delivered around the room. The last two are for me: one, signed by Pete, and the other, again, from
Secret Admirer
.
Pete's smile from the first flower delivery fades as I receive the second, and his expression becomes stormy as soon as the class's attention turns back to the teacher. He glares at me but doesn't say anything.
I'm nervous and discomfited by his reaction, and whisper,
“I don't know who it's from!”
But he remains uncommunicative. He stalks out the door when class is over, before I have a chance to say anything more.
After class I have to get something from my locker and glance at the additional eight roses I received during the day. Leia's at her locker next to mine. We both study the generous bouquet, and I'm not quite sure what to do with them.
“Can you, um, take these to my house?” I ask, knowing she and Luke earned their driving privileges back.
“Yup,” she responds, grabbing the roses as if she's mad at them.
I wait for Pete by his car in the parking lot. I anticipate needing to smooth things over after the scene in English, but I'm still surprised when he approaches and says, “Do you think I'm giving you a ride home? After what you've done to me?” He's loud enough to attract attention from other kids getting into their cars.
I glance around, not happy to be making a scene. “Pete, keep your voice down.” I grab his wrist. “Come on. Be reasonable. I don't even know who those are from.”
He shakes off my hand. “You obviously have been encouraging
some
body. Maybe not everyone here realizes you are with me!” He raises his voice on the last part, glaring around the parking lot as if to challenge any onlookers.
“No, Pete, it's not like that,” I say, now grabbing his arm. “Please believe me.”
He plucks my hand away. I move from where I'd been leaning against the driver-side door, and he unlocks it before getting into his car. “Whatever. You have to think about what you've done. I can't even look at you right now.” I back up to the sidewalk while he peels out and drives away.
Seriously?
He left me without a ride on a freezing cold day. I stand there with my mouth hanging open. Leia comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “C'mon,” she says. “Let us take you home.”
We get in the car, me insisting I sit in the back seat, Leia driving and Luke riding shotgun. “What was that all about?” Luke asks. He's usually good about staying out of people's business â unlike his sister â and it surprises me he would put me on the spot like that.
“It was nothing. I don't want to talk about it. Just drive,” I mumble, leaning my head against the car window.
Leia peers at me in the rearview mirror. “That was not
nothing
, G. I don't know what would possess Pete for him to go off on you right in front of the whole school. So not cool,” she scolds.
“I said I don't want to talk about it!” I repeat, trying to figure out what I did wrong to have provoked Pete. I still have no idea who those flowers were from, but I am afraid to speculate with Leia and Luke and spark a whole new discussion.
“Fine, fine. Have it your way.” She takes a deep breath. “Thanks again for the rose, Genie. It was sweet of you.”
“You're welcome,” I answer, a bit mollified. “Thanks for yours, too.” I go back to staring at the gray patches of snow still dotting the landscape like cold, dirty sheep. The bare tree branches move against the darkening sky that reflects my mood.
“Hey, ladies, I got you a little something, too.” Luke pulls out two small boxes of chocolates from the glove compartment. I'm cheered by his thoughtful gift.
“Well, I don't have a Valentine this year, so I thought I'd give something to two of my favorite people, instead. Go ahead and try it.”
I open the box and sigh, studying the chocolates and thinking of Pete's earlier admonition I take care not to get fat. I close the box again and tell Luke I'm saving it for later.
“What?” Leia screeches, nearly pulling the car off the road. “Genie Lowry, are you saying
no
to chocolate? Luke, quick, take her pulse. She must be sick or something.”
“Ha, ha. No â I'm, um, watching my weight, that's all.”
Both Luke and Leia protest I look great right now. All standard stuff friends are expected to say. Regardless, I want to make sure my curves stay in the right places, and I tell them so. Their protests begin again and are only cut short when we arrive at home.
“Wanna come over?” Leia asks as I gather my bag and coat.
“Nah. Not today, thanks. I have a lot to do. Pete and I are going out tonight.”
“Are you going to go out with him after what he did today? Please. I miss you.”
Why doesn't she mind her own business?
“Thanks to you both for the ride. I'll see you Monday,
at school
.” I emphasize the school part, so they know I'm not expecting a ride. This whole thing with Pete should blow over, and we can go back to our usual routine.
I don't feel good about Pete leaving me behind, but I think my best bet is to smooth things over, so I call him as soon as I get in the house. He answers only after several rings. Just as I think it's going to voicemail, he picks up.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi, Pete. Can we talk about â you know, what happened earlier? I'm sorry you were angry. But I hope you believe me. I don't know what was up with all those flowers.”
“Sure. It's fine.”
Relief washes over me. I'm not good at dealing with angry people. “So⦠what time should I expect you tonight?”
“Six-thirty,” he answers.
“Okay, I'll see you then!” I say, hoping my enthusiasm will rub off on him.
“Later,” he says and clicks off.
The conversation doesn't make me feel much better, but at least I know to expect him around dinnertime. That confirms my earlier suspicion of dinner and a movie. I'm glad it's a Friday. Mamère and Papa won't give me any grief if I stay out âtil almost midnight.
They both arrive home a little later than usual, each with a Valentine card for the other. Papa's been easing himself back into work, placing some of his orders from home and going into the hardware store only a few days a week. Bill, his long-time manager, has been happy to pick up extra shifts.
“Are you going out tonight?” I inquire, to which they both shake their heads.
“Eh, it's a holiday for young folks,” says Papa, chuckling. He looks tired, but I don't mention that. I'm glad they're staying home.
“I rented an oldie but goodie, and we're doing takeout. Care to join us?” Mamère teases, knowing of my plans with Pete.
“Thanks, but no. I'd better go finish getting ready,” I say, before dashing up the stairs. I already showered before they came home, so now I have to finish drying my hair and getting my makeup just right. I splurged the previous weekend on a new pair of cute shoes â I could have wished for them, but human habits die hard â and I was wearing them with a skirt and blouse I did wish out of the pages of a magazine. Altogether not bad. Though not practical for a February evening, it's worth it.
It is now getting close to six-thirty, and I can smell the Chinese food my grandfather brought back from the restaurant. My stomach growls its hunger, too.
I wonder where I'll be going with Pete tonight?
Finally ready, I head downstairs to wait. My grandparents have settled themselves in front of the TV with the woodstove going and the food set out on TV tables.
“You might as well join us while you're waiting,” my grandmother says.
They've just started their movie, so I flop down on the couch next to them while the previews begin. “You can have some food, too,” adds Papa, noticing me eyeing what they'd ordered.
“No, thanks. Don't want to spoil my appetite.”
The clock ticks its way to six forty-five, then seven. I've been checking my cell â no Pete, no texts. I can't figure out what's going on, and I try calling him again for the third time. Just as before, it goes straight to voicemail. I'm getting worried enough that I call his house number, and his mom answers. She tells me, sounding apologetic, that he's gone bowling with his friends tonight and wouldn't be back until late.
In shock, I realize I've been stood up. The hurt is rushing to my stomach when the doorbell rings, cutting through my confusion
. Did I just wish for Pete to appear? Can I even do that? Too bad I can't ask Dr. Morocco right now.
In a daze, I run to open the door, hoping it's him. Instead, I see Leia standing on the stoop, holding something out to me. “Sorry to bother you,” she says, checking out my outfit and heels. “Some of your mail got delivered to our house today by accident.”
“Okay, thanks,” I get out, trying to keep it together in front of Leia. But she's known me long enough to see something is wrong. She takes a step toward me and comes right out with it.
“Aren't you supposed to be with Pete tonight? Where is he?”
“He â he had something to do and couldn't make it.”
“Do you mean he stood you up?”
I wince.
“That's â it's terrible. What kind of a jerk does that?”
“It's no big deal. We'll work it out.”
She stares at me, incredulous. “I don't know what's going on with you these days, or why you're putting up with this behavior, but I do know this â you're not spending Valentine's Day alone, especially when you're all dressed up, and looking so â so â stunning.”
“Thanks,” I manage a tiny smile through the tears now rolling down my face.
“We don't have to talk about any of this, if you don't want to. But you're coming out. You and I are both going to an anti-Valentine's Day party tonight. Be ready in five minutes.”
“Okay, I'll fix my mascara and then I can go.”
“I'll pick you up. See you in a bit.”
She runs home, crunching through the crusty snow still on the sidewalk. I busy myself fixing my makeup, and give my grandparents the credit card bill and magazine Leia delivered.
Soon a car horn beeps outside. A final glance in the hall mirror tells me I am presentable enough for a casual party. Grabbing my coat and purse, I shout a hurried goodbye to my grandparents, not wanting to reveal to them the change of plans, and rush out the door.
Leia does as she promised, and doesn't say a word about Pete during the drive. We listen to music and get pumped up for the party. It's unlike Leia to be so giddy, though. She mentions on the way over that Joel is the host, which I figure explains her excitement.
When we arrive, I notice Leia has pinned an upside-down, black heart to the front of her shirt. Raising an eyebrow at her, she responds with, “Well? It's supposed to be an anti-Valentine's party, right?”
Giggling, we walk into the living room, where about a dozen people are hanging out. I see Joel in the corner, talking with Rachel, the drama star, but as soon as he sees Leia and I have come in, he hurries over to greet us.
“So glad you could make it, guys,” he says, focusing on me, in particular. I imagine he's a bit puzzled, since everyone knows I'm dating Pete, but I don't want to alert all of these people that I have been stood up on Valentine's Day, of all times.
So I thank him and ask for a drink to avoid his curiosity.
“It's all in the kitchen,” he says. “What would you like?”
“Oh, I can get it myself.” We enter the kitchen. Joel takes down a glass from the cabinet and I start pouring myself a diet cola.
“You definitely need to relax,” Leia tells me, grabbing my cup from me and filling it almost to the brim. “Go and sit. I'll bring this in to you.”