Inside school, I see flyers posted all over for the rose sale the student council sponsors to help fund the prom. I’m not part of that committee, and I figure Shane won’t be interested in a school dance. He does romance in a different way; I touch the eighth note at my throat.
Later, the delivery people delight in interrupting class, and Mr. Mackiewicz is particularly perturbed by the delay. But since they have permission to do this, he can’t complain. He harrumphs and stomps to his desk while they circulate, handing out roses. I can see which people expect to get one by the way they watch. Others pretend to work on their geometry, and I’m one of the latter, until the guy taps me on the shoulder.
“For you.” He hands it over with a flourish.
“Thanks.” I glance over at Shane, who’s watching me with a faint smile.
The sun’s shining through the window, brightening the classroom. Everything seems more vivid. All around me, girls are smiling like goofballs because they got a red rose. A few of them have no idea who it’s from and they’re whispering with their friends, trying to figure it out. Mine has a card attached. I smile as I fold it open and read: You’re the one who makes me whole. I recognize that as a line from the song he’s been working on.
Mackiewicz puts us back to work as soon as the roses are handed out, so I don’t have a chance to talk to Shane until after class. “Thanks. But you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
At lunch, I learn that Lila got a rose from a secret admirer, and Kenny sent one to Tara, who apparently isn’t sitting with us anymore. I guess she finally realized how much he likes her and took steps to make her disinterest clear. It sucks to have your dreams crushed on Valentine’s Day; even his Mario hat looks sad.
In the afternoon, teachers have a hard time getting us to focus, so we mostly watch videos. Then they show they have souls by choosing not to give us homework. I cheer along with everyone else, then go meet Shane, who’s already at our locker, waiting.
“I’m cooking for you. I switched my shift so we could be together tonight. Are you up to a ride out to my place?”
“Really?”
He nods. “I hope so. Everything’s set up.”
“Absolutely. Let me text my aunt.” I’m sure she’s going out with Joe anyway.
They’ve been seeing a lot of each other, like her trip to see Aunt Helen made him realize how much he missed her. That could have been part of her strategy, actually. My aunt is smart. Gabby replies quickly that it’s fine; she’s going to Rudolfo’s with Joe.
“Called it,” I say, climbing on my bike.
The trip to his house doesn’t let us talk much, and Shane rides faster than I do. I’m a little out of breath when we turn down the weed-choked drive. I’m surprised all over again. I haven’t been out here since I brought him soup and his homework assignments, thinking he was sick. He prefers for us to spend time at my place or somewhere else in town. Honestly, I don’t blame him. This trailer’s a reminder of how poorly his dad’s doing at taking care of him. Shane would argue that his father was relieved of that responsibility when he walked out on them years ago.
I disagree.
It feels good to get out of the wind when we head into the trailer. He’s fixed it up quite a bit—oh. Shane flips a switch, so that the whole room glows with white twinkle lights, and he’s woven white silk flowers along the wiring, turning this into a magical bower. It looks like springtime and love in here. Just … wow.
“This is great,” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I love it.”
“There’s more.” He indicates the slow cooker with a flourish. From the warm, inviting smell, I can tell he’s made the veggie soup he promised me. “I know it’s not romantic, but I can’t do champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries.”
“It’s perfect.”