Matt

"Hello," Kayla answered from the other end of the phone.

"Hey, it's me," I replied.

Silence.

"Kayla, are you there?"

"Yea, I'm here," she said coolly. "What do you want?"

I wasn't surprised by her iciness, and although I felt I hadn't done anything wrong, it seemed right to clear things up with her. Laying back against the hotel pillow, I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry for last night. I really wasn't trying to hurt you. I just know that you want your first time to be special and since I was having a rough evening, I didn't want to ruin it for you."

"Oh, Mattie," Kayla breathed. "That's so romantic and thoughtful of you. I'm sorry for getting mad at you, baby."

I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder as I sat up to tug my boots on. "Listen, Kayla," I began. "I've been thinking, and I feel as though I haven't been fair to you."

"What do you mean," she asked.

Blowing out a breath, I stared up at the ceiling. "I want to give us a real shot."

"Totally. We're great together, Mattie," she gushed.

"The best," I agreed even though I didn't mean it.

"How about you come over to my house tonight and I'll cook you something fancy?"

"Sounds great." I punched the end call button, relieved to have at least patched things up with one female in my life.

As for Vanessa, our situation was likely to remain messy. I had received the message loud and clear from her last night that we were never going to happen. I was through moping around over her and ready to start moving on. If Kayla was going to offer me that chance of a happy relationship, then I would be a fool not to take it.

It was time to leave my past behind me.

Valentine's Day

Vanessa

Gazing into the mirror, I pressed my lips together firmly. Addison had lent me her Va Va Voom Red lipstick to wear for the evening, and it was the perfect companion to pair with the satin, crimson slip dress I had on.

She had also tried talking me into wearing her Victoria's Secret "dress" again, but I refused. I wanted to look sexy without giving the impression that I belonged in a lingerie catalog. The idea was to make Devin drool over me, not get arrested for indecent exposure with that tiny scrap of a fabric my friend was literally trying to force on me.

With bobby pin in mouth, I pulled my waves up into a bun, making sure to leave out a few face-framing tendrils. I moved my head from side to side as I studied my reflection. I had to admit, I was starting to like the new Nessa.

The sound of the doorbell ringing effectively ended my critique. "I'll get it," I yelled. Bounding down the stairs, I flung open the front door.

Devin was standing on the other side, his eyes widening the moment he saw me. He whistled. "You never cease to take my breath away with your beauty." Pulling me in close for a kiss, he spun me in his arms and dipped me low as though we were in a scene straight out of an old Hollywood movie.

I swatted at his chest. "You're such a goofball, Devin."

"Aww, come on. It's Valentine's Day. I can't sweep my girl off her feet with some grand romantic gesture?"

Taking his hand in mine, I led him down the front steps. "The only grand gesture I want, is for you to stand outside my bedroom window and profess your undying love for me."

He laughed. "Sounds stalkerish."

Smiling wistfully, I shook my head. "Sounds lovely."

"In that case," he murmured into my ear, "I'll stand outside your window every night, wooing you over."

"Don't forget to throw the little pebbles too," I teased. "Oh, and a song from the heart wouldn't hurt either."

"You got it, babe." And with that, he scooped me up and carried me to his car.

I squealed. "Devin! Put me down."

With all the fuss Devin had made about grand gestures and sweeping me off my feet, I was surprised when our Valentine's Day destination turned out to be at his house. I would have assumed at the very least, he would have taken me to an upscale restaurant for a fancy, candlelit dinner.

Not that I minded. I was perfectly content with just being with him and sharing the holiday together.

"Wait here," he instructed when we stepped into the foyer.

As he disappeared into the living room, I turned to study the photographs hanging on the wall. Most of them were school photos taken of Devin throughout the years, but my gaze paused on a picture of him standing on a picturesque beach with three other blonde-haired people. I guessed by their identical smiles and facial features that it was his parents and sister. They really are the perfect, All-American family.

After another ten minutes of awkwardly pacing in the front hall, Devin returned. "For you, my dear," he proclaimed, pulling out a single red rose from behind his back.

"Oh, Devin," I replied, breathing in the heady aroma. "It's beautiful."

"It doesn't end there." He grasped my hand, leading me back to where he had just come from. "Close your eyes," he instructed, covering my face. When we reached what I assumed to be the living room, he stopped and said, "Okay. Open them."

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the scene around me. There were dozens of cream-colored candles flickering from strategic spots throughout the room. He had also scattered rose petals on the hardwood floor and in the center, laid down a checkered blanket. On top, were more candles, some sort of chicken dish, and two champagne glasses filled with what I guessed to be sparkling cider since we weren't technically old enough to be drinking.

"Devin," I gasped. "This is amazing." I spun around in a circle, taking it all in. I was blown away that he had cared enough to do all of this for me. I don't deserve him. Especially not after what I did to Matt.

"Vanessa," he began, striding over to my side and clasping my fingers in between his as he looked me in the eye. "I love spending time with you, and nothing could please me more than you being my girlfriend. Will you do me that honor?" His blue eyes sparkled with hopefulness.

I glanced around the room once more. He really did all of this for me. He is the perfect guy. How could I possibly say no when Devin was willing to put in all this romantic effort to make me happy?

My gaze settled back on him. He was giving me that movie star grin, and it was impossible to have any other answer except for, "Yes! Of course!" I threw my arms around his neck, smothering him with kisses. He let out a whoop as he lifted me off the ground and spun me around.

Tears of happiness prickled the back of my eyelids. I couldn't have asked for a better Valentine's Day.

***

Matt

I invited Kayla over to my house for Valentine's Day with the hopes of surprising her with a nice dinner. Seeing as how I had already ruined Christmas, I was determined not to screw up this holiday as well. I had given it my best attempt to cook her a chicken parmesan entree with a side of pasta.

"Voila," I proclaimed, proudly placing the dish in front of her.

She made a face as she turned the burnt chicken over with her fork. "I think you left it in the oven a tad too long." She took a bite of her pasta, the sound of the crunch making me wince. "And apparently, the pasta not long enough."

Shrugging, I gave her a sheepish grin. "Do you want to order a pizza?"

She grimaced. "Do you have any idea how much grease is saturated onto those things? Yuck."

"We can get something else then." I shifted in my chair. "Oh, I uh...bought you a little something," I reached under the table, presenting her with a bouquet of a dozen red roses, and praying I hadn't failed with the gift this time. I realized as I was handing them over that I had forgotten to put them in water, so the petals were starting to wilt.

She hesitated in accepting them, an unreadable expression spreading over her features. "Thank- OW!" She jerked her hand quickly away from the flowers.

"Are you okay?" I jumped up from my chair, rushing to her side. "What happened?"

"You left the thorns on them," she snapped, rubbing her finger. A pinprick of blood oozed from her skin.

"I'm so sorry, hon. Let me grab you some ice." I put some cubes in a zippered bag and handed them to her, bumping the water glass set in front of her. It tipped over, causing cold water to splash all over her lap.

Shrieking, she leapt up. "My dress! This is Dior!"

I had no clue what a Dior was, but figured from the exasperation in her voice that it must have been something expensive. I winced at the giant splotch spreading across the satin fabric of her dress. This is not going well. Unless it involved kissing, I just had to accept the fact that I was inept at impressing girls. Even then that was a stretch, seeing as how I hadn't exactly managed to wow Vanessa into wanting to be with me after we had made out.

Kayla stormed into the bathroom, re-emerging twenty minutes later with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Way to go, Matt. Who knew I had a secret talent for making girls cry? Go figure that I could fail at everything else except for that.

I rose from the table and joined her where she was standing at the kitchen sink. Her gaze remained fixated on the darkening sky outside the window, even as I approached. Clearing my throat, I handed her a heart-shaped, velvet box. "I got you some chocolates."

"I'm on a no-sweets diet," she replied flatly.

"Oh."

I suspected that when she went back and told her friends how her Valentine's Day had gone, she would leave out the parts where the dinner was burnt, and the flowers were half-dying. She would never admit that her boyfriend was clueless when it came to being a romantic. Instead, she would gush about how I had made a meal for her, conveniently forgetting to mention that I had also made her cry.

My heart sank at the sight of her tear-stained face. I just can't seem to ever win. Even when I tried to make tonight special for her, I had somehow still managed to blow it. No matter what I did, I just seemed to have a knack for pushing girls away. Maybe, it was time for me to accept the fact that I wasn't fit to have a girlfriend, and that there was a reason why I had been a loner all these years.

Which is why I was surprised when Kayla suggested that we put on a movie. She, of course wanted to watch some cheesy chick flick about a rich girl who falls in love with a poor boy. How fitting. Even though I would have rather eaten my own eyeballs than sit through two hours of lame jokes and forced chemistry, there was no way I was going to refuse her request. It was the least I could do after this mess of an evening.

Now, I really tried to hold on for as long as I could but eventually, the boredom from the film won out and I drifted off into a state of semi-unconscious where the lines of reality begin to blur with fantasy. My eyes were fluttering when I felt the weight of a hand on my shoulder. A warm breath tickled my ear as the words, "I love you, Matt" escaped from lips only inches away from mine.

Reaching up, I patted the cheek of my admirer. "I love you too, Vanessa," I murmured.

"Who did you just call me," an angry voice shrieked.

Ripped from my dream, my eyes shot open. I was fully conscious now. Bewildered, I turned my head to find the source of the voice. Kayla, red-faced and sitting right next to me, glared back at me. Her jaw was clenched as she ground her teeth together.

"I didn't call you anything," I denied, moving into a sitting position.

"You called me Vanessa," she spat out tightly. She balled her hands into fists.

"No. I didn't." I was genuinely confused. "I was asleep."

"Don't lie, Matt. I heard you. I told you I loved you and you said, 'I love you too, Vanessa,'" she growled, mimicking my voice. Pointing her finger at me, she sprang off the couch. "I knew it. I knew you still had feelings for her."

I stared at her, completely stunned. "I don't," I lied.

"You are such a pig." She grabbed the roses off the table and whipped them in my direction, causing petals to scatter all over the floor. "Whatever, Matt. I'm done wasting my time with you. No wonder why Vanessa broke up with you. You're the worst boyfriend, ever. We're through."

She snatched her jacket from the couch, angrily shrugging it on. "I'm out of here. Happy Valentine's Day!!" She ripped open the front door, making sure to slam it on her way out.

Grabbing a decorative pillow off the sofa, I flung the silly-looking thing across the room, all the while cursing this dumb, made-up holiday. But I knew it wasn't the holiday's fault. Nor was it the pillow's fault that Kayla had stormed out. It was all my fault. She was right. I was a lousy boyfriend. I was forever a screwup and she knew it. Vanessa no doubt knew it as well, and I was certain that was the reason she didn't want to be with me.

And now, I was alone. The only person that had actually been willing to take a chance on me had finally decided that she had had enough and gave up on me too. I couldn't have asked for a worse Valentine's Day.