Puddle Jumping(25)

On the drive to school, I could play certain songs and he would perceive I was in a good mood or a cranky one. The good ones were always from him, so he never had to worry about that. But he was always a little unsure of what to say or do if I was upset about something. School. My parents. Homework. A little fight with Harper. He found it strange, like whatever was making me irritated or moody was just unnecessary. Sometimes it helped to put things into perspective. Sometimes it made my head hurt. Sometimes I would get exasperated over it all.

But then I would talk to my other friends and I realized that pretty much all boys are like that. None of them really get why girls are upset over petty and stupid drama, so it made me feel like maybe our relationship was as ordinary as they came.

That was, until that horrible day in February.

You know which one I’m referring to.

That one.

I loathe it.

I think Valentine’s Day is when my cynicism started to rear its ugly little head.

V-Day. Heart Day. Love Day. St. Valentine’s Day.

Don’t those two words alone just make you want to cut a bitch? Like, as if it’s not bad enough the mascot for the day is a baby in a diaper with wings and a weapon . . . it’s a day when the entire universe is pretty much required to purchase pink and red Dollar Store gifts and proclaim their love for everyone . . . everywhere. So, that morning I was playing some angsty girl rock when I went to pick Colton up because I just knew school was going to be an explosion of flowers and candy and I was going to be the Valentine’s Day Gretchen Wieners, sitting in class while Glen Coco got sugar cookies and carnations handed to him, and I didn’t.

My old boyfriend hadn’t made a big deal last year, but we had exchanged cards. It just wasn’t the same because I was actually in love with Colton.

I’m not the girl who falls in love and gets excited over girly things and wants flowers or public declarations of love. But . . . maybe with Colton I did want those things.

Because I thought I couldn’t have them.

I was bracing myself for it.

Imagine how surprised and guilty I felt when I knocked on his front door that morning and he met me with a bouquet of wildflowers. Pink . . . blue . . . purple . . . held tightly in his fist and pretty much pushed into my face as soon as I walked into the foyer.

“These are for you.”

I mean, it was obvious Mrs. Neely had purchased them. Colton looked like he had no idea why he was handing them over to me anyway. Wooing and courting were my area, not his, so I didn’t take any offense. As girls, we always have these ridiculous expectations anyway. It’s no wonder guys are so confused all the time.

Sheila hugged me and wished me Happy Valentine’s Day before presenting me with a red envelope that held dinner reservations at Taste, this super upscale restaurant downtown inside of the museum. I knew it would probably mean we would get the food to go, but the thought was still there. The heart . . . Mrs. Neely’s heart . . . was still there in the gift.

She tried so hard to overcompensate for what Colton didn’t get. As did I.

We bent and bent and bent until we were pretzels because we loved him.

“Dinner at six,” she whispered and gave me a smile. “You’re welcome to come back here and watch a movie if you’d like. Rick and I will be going to dinner, too, but our reservations aren’t until eight or so. We’ll be home late.”

And there it was. Like she was telling me, without telling me, that we would have the house to ourselves for a while.

But that she would definitely be coming back.

Mrs. Neely was the coolest mom on the planet.

I thanked her and she kept the flowers for me to pick up later in the evening and, suddenly, I was really, really into the Valentine’s Day spirit.

Colton smiled from the passenger seat and took my hand as he always did. “Are you happy with the dinner tonight?”

“I am.”

“And you liked the flowers.”

“I did.”

He nodded and leaned back to relax a little in the seat. “Will you stay over?”

I laughed a little and squeezed his hand. “I’m not sure your mom would be okay with that. But I’ll definitely stay for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

My parents had been good about me spending the night with Colton over Christmas, but this would be a whole separate issue that I wasn’t willing to push.

Valentine’s Day was rapidly becoming my very favorite day of the year. And I was pretty sure I wanted to finally go all the way with him that night.

In the span of a day, all of it had been decided. It was going to happen.

I raced home from school, stopping just long enough to drop Colton off at his house with a quick kiss before rushing to my room to grab my clothes, leaving a note for my parents that I had dinner plans, then hauling ass to Harper’s to get ready. I was a sweaty mess, full of nerves and excitement, only half listening to her as she talked me through it all. She was giving me weird pointers and telling me things I couldn’t comprehend because I’m more of a visual person and some of the stuff she was describing sounded like they couldn’t physically be accomplished with gravity working against us.

By the time she was done with me I looked . . . well, I looked really, really pretty.

Harper gave me a hug, smacked me on the ass and sent me on my way, yelling “Good luck!” as I drove off.