A/N HERE HAVE SOME FLUFF WITHOUT PLOT HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY.
The first Valentine's Day I can remember was when I was seven years old.
I was forced to bring a valentine for everyone in my class, and I didn't like that. I always thought Valentine's Day was supposed to be for the people you loved, and I certainly didn't love everyone in my class. It was just something stupid I didn't want to do.
I still went to the store with my mom and picked out a box of store bought valentines with Disney characters on them, and I still wrote the name of every person in my class on them. They all had cheesy lines on them like "my hearts all a flutter for you, Valentine", and I groaned every time I read a new one. My mom had also bought me Hershey's chocolate kisses with pink foil to give my classmates, but I didn't want to share good chocolate with them.
Even though I didn't like giving those dumb cards to my classmates, I wanted to give one to my best friend. I took one of the leftover cards; one that just said "I love you, Valentine" and had a picture of Mickey and Minnie Mouse on it. Using some pink glitter glue I had from a school project, I drew a few sparkly hearts. I signed my name on the back: "To Scottie, From Mitchie" dotting my 'I's with little hearts.
Sometime when I was making his card, my mom walked behind me. "You're giving Scott a valentine?" she asked, sitting next to me at the kitchen table.
"Mhm!" I nodded proudly. "I'm gonna give him a valentine forever. I'm gonna do it every Valentine's Day until we're old, even older than you and dad!"
"I'm sure you will," she giggled. "Did you make his card extra special?"
"I did! See I drew hearts all over it. I'm gonna give him the chocolate kisses too!"
"I'm sure he'll love that. Maybe when you're older you can give him a real kiss instead of a chocolate one!" she teased.
"Eww!" I stuck my tongue out at her. "Kissing people is gross! Only old people do it! Now let me finish my valentines!"
"Alright honey," she said, ruffling my hair before leaving me alone in the kitchen.
***
When I was 13 years old, things were very different from when I was seven.
I was in middle school now, so I didn't actually have to buy anyone a Valentine's Day card. But Kirstie liked to arrange for us to do secret valentines exchanges where we would pull someone's name from a hat and get them a valentine.
When she walked around the circle with everyone's names in a beat up hat, I stuck my hand in and pulled out a piece of folded up paper. On it was a name messily scrawled in purple ink: Scott.
I was probably going to end up giving him candy or something for Valentine's Day, but now I had an excuse to actually make him a nice card. Everyone always talked about the girls in our grade and how they were going to get them flowers and cards so they could ask them to be their girlfriends. It sounded like fun, making something special to ask someone out on Valentine's Day, but I didn't have any interest in the girls at school. I would've rather done something like that for my friends; I'm sure Scott and Kirstie would have loved it.
I searched high and low through the local pharmacy, looking for something Scott would like. All the cards were too cliché, and they were all meant for boy/girl relationships. None of them were funny; none of them would be enough to make him laugh. The only thing in the Valentine's Day section that I thought he would like was a heart shaped box of Chocolate Kisses. I brought it to the cash, earning a smirk from the cashier as she scanned it.
