Drawing in a deep breath and keeping my eyes on him, I gulp and tightly clutch my present closer to me. Although my face doesn’t show my nervousness, my mind is in turmoil; should I give it to him? He’s already gotten so many candies, chocolates, bears, cards, flowers, and balloons. My present wouldn’t stand out at all among the others, would it?

That’s what one side of my head believed, but the other side argued that I ought to think positive. I mean, my gift was rather unique. It wasn’t your typical Valentine’s gift. So maybe he would remember me. Maybe.

“Oh, just go and give it to him already,” my friend groaned, rolling her eyes and pushed me towards him.

Nearly toppling over because of her unexpected push, I squeak, “No! I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m scared,” I admitted.

Barely containing her second groan, she grabbed my wrist and began marching. Towards him.

“What are you doing?!” I purposefully press down hard on my heels, trying to dig into the ground to plant myself so that I wouldn’t have to be dragged anywhere. Especially towards him.

“Helping you confess, you dimwit. Otherwise we’ll be here forever until he leaves. Then you’ll regret not giving him your present. And then I’ll have to suffer your tears.”

“I wouldn’t cry!” I protest, but she only rolled her eyes at that.

“Sure, and then pigs will finally cry,” she muttered. Before I had the chance to even open my mouth, seeing