I don't like Valentine's Day. I don't see the point of devoting an entire holiday to an emotion; and love at that (Effy and Cook both agree with me on this, and that is one of the reasons why they're my best mates). I can understand Christmas (not the religious bullshit, but the general idea) and Easter (again, not the religious aspect) and all those other little days that you sometimes get off for and sometimes not, but not fucking Valentine's Day. What's so special about love that you have to devote an entire day to it? I know it's named after some martyr and started somewhere around the fall of the Roman Empire, but who the fuck thought it was a good idea to devote a holiday to love? And what's with the fucking chocolates and flowers and greeting cards? I know for a fact that Cook loves Effy, but he wouldn't be caught dead giving her anything except a shag.
-
So of course, I don't understand why the holiday is so important to so many people (one person in particular, with cherry red hair and pouty lips and no, fuck, shit, shut up, Christ, I sound like fucking JJ). All that sentimental stuff really isn't my cup of tea. I prefer Earl Grey, thank you very much. So when Emily asks me at lunch the day before if I'm excited for Valentine's Day, I really don't know how to respond. But she's looking at me with those big brown eyes (fucking gorgeous, they are) and she smiling and it totally throws me off.
"Erm, I'm not really into the whole Valentine's Day thing, Ems," I say awkwardly, picking at the hem of my shirt. I don't miss the way her face falls slightly. No one else would have noticed, the way her smile fades a notch, not quite reaching her eyes. The way her eyes dim just the tiniest bit. I shouldn't notice these things, but I do, and I sort of hate it (love it). Emily and I don't talk very much, not actual conversations, but it doesn't stop me from picking up those little things. I hand her my apple (I won't eat it) and can't stop myself from watching as she bites into it. I repress a shudder. The things this girl does to me. Fuck off, hormones.
"Katie always got all the valentine cards, and always had boys wanting to be her valentine," she continues once she's finished chewing. "Always got all the candy and flowers."
"You didn't get anything?" I ask, curious as to how someone like Emily (cute, funny, smart, sexy... stop it, brain) would be stood up on Valentine's Day. She shrugs, turning the apple in her hands. It matches her nail varnish. Emily's just so red. Fucking hell.
"There was one boy who gave me chocolate. But, yeah..." Silence between us is usually pretty comfortable. The bell rings and Emily and I go our separate ways. I skip my next class with Effy, deciding to walk around town instead. We don't talk, Effy and I, not really. Just enjoy each others presence.
We pass by a flower store and for some reason I stop and gaze through the window at the roses on display. Effy stops as well, crossing her arms over her chest and giving me that "I know exactly what you're thinking, Naomi Campbell" look. I roll my eyes at her.
"Fuck off, Effy." She smirks and follows me inside, wandering around and trailing her fingertips over the flower petals as I head to the back and get the attention of the florist.
"Can I help you?" she asked politely and I bite my lip. How many roses am I supposed to get? Should I get a personalized note? Would she like that? Does she even like roses? Should I get carnations instead? Or lilies? Aren't roses the traditional flower to give? I hate tradition. Maybe I should get her a lily instead.
"She'll take one red rose, please," comes Effy's voice form next to me.
"Thanks, Eff," I murmur out of the corner of my mouth. She smiles (an actual, genuine smile, small, but an actual fucking smile. How many people have seen them? Not many.) and shrugs her shoulders.
-
"You might as well buy her chocolates too, then," Effy tells me as we leave, one rose wrapped delicately in my hand. "And be sure to put that in water when you get home."
"I know how to keep a flower alive, Eff," I bite out, glaring at her. She simply smirks. "I don't even know what kind of chocolates she likes." Effy shrugs. "You're no help at all."
"Neither are you, Naomikins," she says and affectionately pinches my cheek. I slap her hand away and wave the rose threateningly in her direction. She puts her hands up, a hilariously horrible scared expression on her face.
"Bitch."
"I know."
-
It's not hard to corner Emily the next day (well, not corner, really, more like... whatever) since Katie's the one surrounded by boys, like always. She looks so sad sitting all by herself picking at her fingernails. It's rather adorable. I hold the rose and chocolates behind my back (no use in her seeing them before I can say anything and ruin the surprise) and catch her attention. Hopefully, Katie won't pick this moment to look over. Like I need her to see me giving her sister a Valentine's Day gift.
"Hey, Emily," I say, a bit meekly, I might add. Naomi Campbell, meek? Uhg. This girl is turning me to mush. She looks genuinely surprised to see me.
"Naomi. Hi." She smiles. Good. Cute.
"Right. Uhm. Yeah." Fucking spit it out, Campbell. Christ. "We're not dating and I have no fucking clue why I'm even doing this, but I blew some money on roses and chocolates for you and I was wondering if you'd be my Valentine?" I ask, pulling said items from behind my back. If only there were words in the English language to describe the way her face lights up. She plucks the rose tenderly from my hand, like she's afraid it'll break if she's too rough with it, and inhales delicately. It matches her hair.
"I thought you didn't like Valentine's Day," she states, setting the box of chocolates on her lap and twirling the rose between her fingertips. I shrug my shoulders and sit next to her. We're almost touching. Almost.
"I don't." All she does is smile at me, and I find myself smiling back. She leans over then, and kisses my cheek, right by the corner of my lips. My face starts to burn, but for some reason I don't feel the need to check if anyone was looking. She's grinning and it makes me not care.
"Happy Valentine's Day, then, Naomi." And she's off to class, with a barely discernible bounce in her step.
"Yeah," I say to the air and watch her walk away.