For nine-year-olds, romance is rarely a priority. Though elementary school students love to tease one another about any crushes that may sprout up, it's rare that anything blossoms to fruition. Valentine's Day, in elementary school, is for eating an inadvisable amount of sweets and making art projects between stints of actual learning.

This is the state that Cove Holden found himself in: glue coating his fingers uncomfortably, a stray scrap of red construction paper sticking to his hand, and desperately wishing he could plug his ears. He tried unsuccessfully to swipe the paper off, only managing to get it caught on the other hand, and groaned in frustration.

Markie Romwell, seeing this predicament, gasped. "Uh oh! It's stuck! Don't worry, Cove, I can fix it!" He stuck out his tongue in concentration and carefully extracted it, much to Cove's relief. He grew angry, however, when he noticed that now it was stuck on Markie's finger. That is, of course, until Markie started cracking up, at which point Cove let out a snicker before stopping himself.

They were decorating their Valentine's mailboxes. Each of the twenty-three students was designing their one-of-a-kind chests, their soon-to-be-treasure troves. Some of them were jittering in anticipation of sugary delights. Cove was very interested in the candy he would be amassing, but he was not so enthused about the crafts. "Markie, this is dumb. Why does it have to look pretty anyway? We're not gonna keep them."

"You don't like it? Well then, can I do yours, too?"

Cove shrugged passively. "Okay. I don't see a reason why you can't."

"Aha!" With that triumphant little squeal released, Markie scooped up Cove's box and began bouncing back and forth between the two. For his own box, he used plenty of foam hearts (especially the lilac ones, but with some pink and red here and there) as well as some gemstones. He knew, deep down, that they weren't real gems, but it was more fun to pretend they were precious and rare, so he did. This is why he also put tons on Cove's. Also for Cove's, he drew little seashells, cut them out a bit messily, and pasted them. "It may not be super Valentines-ish, but you like this better anyway, huh, Cove?"

"Yup."

"Markie," their teacher scolded lightly, "You know this is supposed to be an individual activity. You shouldn't be doing Cove's work for him."

He ducked his head low and couldn't meet her gaze. "I-I'm sorry. Please don't make me change my behavior card." His olive-toned skin went a little pale at the thought, and he shuddered.

"Now, Markie, I know you mean well, so you don't have to change your card, but you should keep your hands on your own work. Okay?"

"Why?" Cove asked indignantly.

"Hmm?"

"Why can't he decorate my mailbox? I don't wanna do it, and he does, and he's doing his own, so what's the problem? There's no point anyway." Markie gaped. He was used to Cove's occasional sass at this point, after a little over half a year spent together, but sometimes his blatant boldness in the face of an authority figure was utterly shocking.

"Because, Cove, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. Besides, who knows? Maybe you'll wind up really enjoying yourself. It's important to know how to do a lot of things and to have a lot of interests, because then when you grow up, you'll have a better understanding of what you really like. If you don't give it a try, you'll be missing out." This made a lot of sense to Markie, and he was suddenly feeling a bit bad for robbing Cove of the opportunity to do crafts. Markie loved crafts, so maybe if Cove tried it more, he'd like it?

Cove was less convinced. He sniffed in annoyance, staring down at the long, gnarly scar on his arm. "I do have a lot of interests. I like the ocean, and playing hide-and-seek, and catching fireflies, and racing people. I don't wanna do crafts and this whole thing is stupid."

Markie kicked his legs frantically in horror. "H-He doesn't mean that!"

"Yes I do." Denying Markie's attempt at saving him, Cove picked glue slivers off of his fingers, as though bored.

"Cove, go change your behavior card. It's good that you have a voice and stand up for your friend. But you must learn to express your opinions with more respect."

"Okay." He rose from his seat and swapped the "B" card with a "C" one. Markie's had always been an "A," and he was utterly aghast. How could he have a "C" and be so unbothered by it?! Sure, Cove's dad didn't really punish him for much of anything, but that meant he would miss recess tomorrow! "What's wrong?"

Markie nearly started tearing up. "You got in trouble cause of me!" His voice cracked with anguish.

"Nuh-uh. I got in trouble cause of me. And it doesn't even matter. I still get to give and get Valentine's cards." He was a little upset, though, at Markie's clear worry, so he hesitantly took Markie's hand and rubbed it soothingly.

Markie let out a shuddery breath. "You're right. You're right, it's okay. Um... here's your box."

"It's pretty. Good job." With this frank acknowledgment, the conversation came to a close.

Soon enough, the festivities began. Each student diligently stopped by every mailbox and dropped in their basic store-bought Valentine's card and occasional treat. Markie flitted around socially, thanking everyone for their gifts, no matter how generic, and Cove trailed behind awkwardly, piping up with gratitude of his own. They indulged in candy together, Markie going for a pack of Fun Dip and Cove taking to a cherry lollipop. They playfully stuck out their tongues at one another, giggling over their dyed tongues, green and blue and red. Markie tried to avoid the temptation of extra goodies– his moms didn't really keep sweets in the house, and he knew it wasn't good for him to have too much– but Cove, ever mischievous, wore down his willpower by making his candy seem extra, extra yummy. So boyhood and lightheartedness overpowered obedience, one of the rare but scarily increasing incidents in which this occurred. Whenever Markie would comment about this over the months, Cove would retort about how Markie, in turn, kept him out of trouble... sometimes. It was a very good system, they both thought.

Eventually, the end of the school day was nigh. Like every day, Markie and Cove met up with Lizzie and they waited for the Romwell siblings' moms to take the three of them home. "Here. Mom and Mommy made me save one for you," Lizzie proclaimed with a roll of her eyes.

"Thanks, I guess. Dad made me save one for you, too."

"Thanks. Are you gonna come over today? We should all play in the park!"

"Maybe." With that, he slung off his backpack and went rifling through it.

"What are you looking for?" Markie asked.

"Special thing." Finding what he was seeking, Cove presented Markie with yet another Valentine, this one bigger and obviously handmade. "Look, when you open it, the little band of fireflies pops up. Dad taught me how to do it."

"Aw!! Wow, it's so cool! Thank you! I have one for you, too, but I left it at home. I didn't want it to get ruined in my bag. I think you'll really, really like it! I worked really hard on it!"

"He did! He was making that thing for nearly an entire hour!" Lizzie piped up unhelpfully.

"Hey, um... I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"Cove, are you having a good school year?" He was still nervous about how things were going. It was his year at his new school, and Markie had been trying his hardest to make sure it was a happy one.

Cove's face scrunched up out of reflex, but when he actually thought about it, he begrudgingly realized the answer. "Honestly, yeah. Thanks, Markie."

The car pulled up. Lizzie eagerly flew into the backseat to start telling her moms about her day. Cove and Markie slipped in next to her, best friends who had yet to realize that one day, they would become so much more. And their Valentine's Days would evolve into something far more important than just a chance to sneak candy.