Valentine’s Day in Florida felt different this year — not just because of the warm weather, but because Gaby Rourke was finally home. Gaby, 18, had been away in Kentucky for college, where she’d committed to play goalkeeper for the women’s soccer team. Between soccer, volleyball, football, and flag football, she’d been busy every hour of the day, and visits back home had become rare. For her cousin, who she grew up with like a sibling, having her back — even just for the day — felt like old times.

When Gaby flew in that morning, he was the first one waiting outside the airport with an energy drink and a bag of Hot Cheetos — her favorite snack. She spotted him and laughed, running up with her duffel bag hitting her side.

“You actually showed up on time?” she teased, pulling him into a quick hug.

“I’m shocked too,” he smirked. “But it’s Valentine’s Day, so I figured I’d be nice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get used to it. Come on, I’m starving.”

The two spent the whole day hanging out like they hadn’t missed a beat. They went to the beach, just like they used to as kids, racing each other to the water and arguing over who won. Later, they grabbed ice cream and wandered through town, catching up on everything — her crazy practice schedule, his school drama, and the cousins they both agreed were “too weird to talk to.”

That afternoon, Gaby pulled out her phone and said, “Let’s take a cousin Valentine’s pic. Mom’s been texting me nonstop.”

“Just one?” he asked, holding up his ice cream. “Or like, a full photo shoot?”

She laughed. “You know it’s never just one.”

As the sun set, they sat on a bench at the park, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink.

“I’m really glad I came back,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Florida’s not the same without you.”

“Don’t get all soft,” she warned, but her smile said she felt the same.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, cousin,” he said, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She threw one right back. “Happy Valentine’s, loser.”