By Anna Humphrey
Goodman's presents & Stationery shop February 14 Cashier: Elyse three bins of heart-shaped chocolate . . . $12.00 Chocolate is the one advantage of this nauseating vacation. four packing containers of sweet hearts . . . $5.00 Ever on account that my ex cheated on me, i have sworn off love. Too undesirable my new neighbor Patrick did not get the memo. 1 Valentine's Day card . . . $4.50 i am not . even supposing, he's beautiful adorable. And candy. And humorous. 1 making a song Cupid doll (promotional merchandise) . . . $0.00 silly Cupid! element your arrows at another individual. . . . Subtotal . . . $21.50 it is going to be a sophisticated Valentine's Day.
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Didn’t he know the main doors to the mall would be locked? Then five minutes passed. Then ten. Why wasn’t he getting out of the car? And that was about when I figured it out: He was waiting to make sure I got on the bus safely. I couldn’t help it; I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t I told him I was fine? It’s not like I needed some kind of knight in shining armor to swoop in and save me. I was a smart, independent seventeen-year-old girl—perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I stood up and walked to the curb, trying to catch his eye.
Seriously, whose idea of a cruel joke had it been to put that in a bus shelter in the middle of winter? ” I jumped at the sound of the voice and looked up to see a man in a brown jacket with two rips in the side. Some of the stuffing was falling out, and one of his shoelaces was broken, leaving his boot hanging open. His feet must have been freezing, not to mention wet. “Sorry,” I said. ” He kind of grunted. ” I shook my head. All I had was my bus fare. “Come on,” he pressed. “A few quarters at least.
We pulled alongside the BMW. “Okay. ” He pointed at the steering wheel. ” I was trying not to hyperventilate. ” He rolled down his window and leaned out, letting in a gush of cold air. ” He motioned for me to take the wheel again. ” He adjusted the gear shift for me. “Then use juuuust a little gas, and you stir it all the way to the right. Stir,” he said, and I wrenched the wheel around, feeling like I was about to barf. The car inched back. “Stir stir stir stir. Good. Okay. ” I stepped on the pedal.