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“Who’re they from?” A
I flipped over the white slip on the bouquet. It had been decorated by the cheerleaders with glittering heart stickers, but the message was simple and written in careful letters.
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY
—Your secret admirer
Next to the signature was a small drawing of a sword and shield.
My knight in shining armor. I almost laughed out loud. Unbelievable. Jake had sent me Valentine’s Day flowers. What did this mean? Did he like me? Was he going to ask me out? Or was he just trying to do something nice for me? Every day since detention ended, I had missed being with him. Maybe this was his way of telling me he missed me, too. That he wanted us to talk or something.
Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t all bad.
“Well?” A
“I don’t know,” I replied, avoiding eye contact. “Pink is secret admirer, remember?”
The tag on the second flower was blank. I had a feeling I knew who it was from, and I suddenly felt unpleasantly warm. Hammond had sent me a secret admirer flower that last Valentine’s Day before I left, even though he and Chloe were already going out. What was wrong with him? Was he just messing with me? Trying to be nostalgic? Or did he actually still like me?
But no. A person who likes you doesn’t help his friends prank you and invite you to parties that aren’t there. They don’t completely avoid talking to you for six months straight and then send you one lame flower. No. He was just messing with me. That had to be it.
Qui
“Oh my God,” A
“What?”
“Logan didn’t send me a flower,” she said, glancing at Qui
“But that’s a good thing, right?” I asked.
She slumped back in her chair. “I don’t know.”
I laughed. “Girl, you have some issues. Here. Want this one, too?” I said, tossing the extra pink at her.
“Oh, you have so many that you can give a few away to the pathetic masses?” she joked.
“Fine. Give it back,” I said lightly.
She held the flower to her chest with a pout. “No! It makes me feel loved.”
I laughed as the bell rang and everyone scrambled to their feet. I tried to shove my bouquet into my messenger bag, but there were too many. Instead I was forced to carry them in the crook of my arm like some pageant contestant.
“Well, obviously they’re from Jake,” A
“Uh, no,” I said, even as I blushed.
“Why not? How many other guys have you besotted since you’ve been here?” A
“Jake is not besotted by me,” I said through my teeth, looking around to make sure neither he nor any of his friends was in earshot. What was I going to do when I saw him? What was he going to do?
“Please. I have the evidence right here in my notes,” A
“Can we drop this?” I hissed.
I had just spotted Sha
“Wow. Who’re they all from?” Trista asked Sha
“Pink’s from Trevor. He sends one every year. And I got a white one from all my friends,” she said, lifting them like a shrug. “Except Jake. He doesn’t do flowers.”
A
“He does flowers for some people,” A
I rounded the corner, expecting at every moment to see Jake. Should I say hello? Smile? Ignore him? Play it cool? But as I came into the front hall I found myself face to face not with Jake, but David. His eyes widened and his face paled. And then he noticed the flowers.
“Oh,” he said. “Hi.”
It was the first time he’d said anything to me in over a month. My spirits surged with hope.
“Hey, David!”
“Looks like you’re having a good Valentine’s Day,” he said flatly.
“Oh, these? Yeah, they’re probably from some loser freshman or something,” I said, waving the flowers around like a Fourth of July sparkler. “No biggie. How are you?”
“Fine.” He looked away.
“Good!” I replied brightly.
“Yeah, well . . . see ya.” He ducked his head and skirted around me. “Hey, A
I let out a breath and leaned sideways against the brick wall. My heart couldn’t take this many emotional shifts so early in the morning. “Well. That sucked.”
“Don’t worry,” A
“Yeah. But will we ever be friends again?” I asked.
A
ally
That afternoon there was a pink slip on my desk in Spanish class. For the past two weeks all the juniors had been getting called to the guidance office to talk about college applications. Looked like it was my turn. As I strolled into the office, my heart instantly sank. Hammond Ross was sitting on the couch in the waiting area, slumped back with his legs splayed. He sat up straight the moment he saw me.
“I’m here for Mrs. Porter,” I said to the secretary.
“She’ll be with you in just a sec, hon,” she replied as she typed frantically on her keyboard. “Have a seat.”
I looked over at the couch. If possible, Hammond sat up even straighter, then shifted his bag to the floor to make room for me. Fabtastic. I walked over and dropped down next to him.
“Hey, Al. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.
“Yeah. You too,” I replied flatly.
“Got any big plans?” he teased.
I blew out a sigh. “No.”
“Looks like you got a lot of flowers there.” He leaned forward as if to see them better, his hands folded between his knees. “I’m impressed a Norm would spring for something like that.”
“How do you know they’re from a Norm?” I snapped.
He laughed. Like anything else was inconceivable. Imagine if he knew they were from his best friend.
“Come on, Al. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I don’t know, Ham. They’re secret admirer flowers,” I said in a condescending tone.
“Huh.” He dropped down against the back of the couch again. “When you get a bunch like that, I guess you don’t notice one more.”
I turned and looked him in the eye for the first time, my heart pounding blood through my veins at an alarming rate. Hammond’s dark blue eyes danced happily, like he was oh so proud of himself.
“So, it was from you.”
He shrugged and looked away. “Maybe. Maybe not.”