"Who are you going to send valentines to this year, Lucy?" Violet, a black-haired girl asked, tying up her hair into its customary bun that recess as she and Lucy walked over to a group of talking girls in the center of the playground.

"Well, I won't give one to that blockhead Charlie Brown, that's for sure," Lucy van Pelt, Linus's older sister replied vehemently, fishing through a bag that was slung over her shoulder. "He always hesitates when I ask him if I'm beautiful."

As they neared the group, the others shifted slightly to accept them. They were all talking about the upcoming holiday; who they were going to give cards to seemed be prior dominus. "I'm only giving valentines to boys who notice my naturally curly hair," Freda, a frizzy-haired girl, said haughtily, patting her mass of red-golden curls.

"Well, I'm going to give one to Schroeder," Lucy declared. "Maybe for once he'll actually notice me instead of Beethoven for once. I mean, Beethoven never even got his picture on bubble gum cards."

"I know who I'm going to give one to," Heather, a freckled red-haired girl, added softly. "But I can't tell you. I don't know his name."

"Well, what does he look like?" Violet suggested. "Maybe you could describe him to us."

"He doesn't have much hair, and he wears a yellow shirt with jagged stripes. He sits in the last row, near the pencil sharpener," Heather reminisced thoughtfully, her tongue sticking out slightly.

"What? You mean Chuck?" Peppermint Patty, a boyish girl with freckles gasped. Her normally straight brown hair went straight up, as if she'd been electrified. "Remember what happened last year, Marcy?"

"I do, sir." Marcy, Patty's best friend, agreed, nodding adjusting her round glasses. "I came all across the street to his house to ask him if he liked me, and all he said was, 'What?' I was so unhappy after that."

Patty seemed surprised. "What I meant was the time he invited us to his house for Thanksgiving and all he had was popcorn and jellybeans," she said, then shook her head. "Well, the point is, just don't give him a valentine, Heather. It's not right."

"He's a blockhead!" shouted Lucy, and Violet nodded her agreement.

"Yeah! Remember what happened when he tried to direct the Christmas play?" she added furiously.

"Well, I think he's cute," Heather simply as she shrugged, a passive smile on her freckled face.

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"The little red-haired girl is coming," Charlie said from his perch on the bench next to the principal's office, craning his neck as he saw Heather approaching. "Wouldn't it be something if she came down and sat next to me? And wouldn't it be something if she said she loved me and gave a big hug?" He was excited, as he always was when the red-haired girl came along, and at this point he almost jumped for joy.

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Heather observed the golden heart-shaped locket in her hand. She thought it had come from that boy, Charlie Brown (Her cheeks grew warm just thinking about it); they'd been in class and, right before he had gone down to the office, she had noticed it fall off his chair. She didn't know what a boy would be doing with a heart-shaped locket, but she had to give it to him.

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Charlie Brown's heart was beating a wild tattoo against his chest. Sure enough, Heather was coming over to him (he could remember her name now) and he stood up in anticipation. Finally Heather stopped in front of him and he could suddenly feel the flush creeping over his face as they faced each other.

"I found this," Heather said, extending her had, the golden locket glinting from her palm. "I think it's yours." He suddenly noticed how much her freckles stood out when she was blushing.

"T-thanks," Charlie stuttered, accepting it and putting it in the back pocket of his shorts. "I-I--"

They were leaning closer together, their blushes obvious now, and it seemed that they were about to finally make contact, when-

Judging by the shadow that was cast over their faces, the principal was back from whatever work he had been doing and was not happy. He explained to them what he wanted them to do, and nervousness replacing their embarrassment, they ran off to class, two multicoloured streaks in the nonexistent breeze.