Valentine’s Day at Wiskayok High had a way of splitting the hallways down the middle — on one side, the girls with their helium balloons and oversized teddy bears; on the other, the ones pretending they didn’t care. You were somewhere in the middle, quietly hoping for something, but never expecting it.

You weren’t the kind of girl who got those dramatic locker displays or morning announcements asking you to prom. But Jackie? She was. She practically invented them.

Which made it all the more confusing when she started acting... weird.

It started with the hallway glances. She looked at you like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Then there were the casual conversations that weren’t so casual — like her lingering just a little too long at your locker after soccer practice, or the way her fingers brushed yours when she passed you notes in English. It wasn’t the kind of popular-girl flirty that you expected from Jackie. It was quiet. Tentative. Real.

And on February 13th, she waited by your car.

The air was cold, your breath fogging up in soft puffs as you approached. Jackie was standing with her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket, hair pulled up in a high ponytail, her lip gloss tinted like strawberries.

“Hey,” she said, rocking slightly on her heels.

You blinked. “Hey?”

She looked down, then back up — those warm brown eyes meeting yours like they were bracing for impact. “I was wondering if you had plans tomorrow night?”

There was a beat of silence before you could catch your breath enough to answer. “Valentine’s Day?”

Jackie nodded, her confidence wavering. “Yeah. I mean… I know it’s short notice. But I—there’s this little diner off Route 8. They do those stupid heart-shaped pancakes and milkshakes with the whipped cream towers. It’s cheesy as hell. I just thought... maybe you'd wanna go? With me?”