A Valentine's Wish. Betsy St. Amant

the cold drink would hopefully revive him enough to get through the service in one piece.

      Andy took the can from Haley and popped the top. “Thanks. Did you see your boyfriend almost nail me in the head with a football, too?”

      “No. But he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” She wrinkled her nose. “We broke up.”

      He took a long drag on the Coke. “Until tomorrow.”

      “No, this time it’s for real.”

      “Okay, a week, then.” Andy winked.

      Haley crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not kidding. He really made me mad. Love stinks.”

      He debated arguing the love point with her, but quickly realized he didn’t have nearly enough time before the service started, and it would probably fall on unwilling ears anyway. Instead, he patted Haley’s shoulder. “He’ll come around. Guys aren’t all that bad.”

      “I know. Love doesn’t stink for everyone.” Haley grinned and twisted one braid around her finger. “For example, I think you and Lori will make a great couple.”

      “Shh!” Andy’s grip tightened around the can, and the aluminum crackled. He lowered his head to her level. “You agreed to keep that a secret.”

      Haley shrugged. “No one’s around. Besides, you can’t keep it hidden forever—especially if you want a date for Valentine’s Day. Eventually she’ll figure out the gifts are from you.”

      “Not if you avoid being seen as we discussed.” And unfortunately, not if Lori’s current train of thought kept whistling toward Monny.

      Andy squeezed the can harder, and a bubble of Coke blurped from the open tab. He had to find a way to show Lori—subtly, of course, so as not to scare her away—that the gifts were from him. The next present would have to be perfect, something romantic and meaningful—and, most importantly, something that would hint at his identity while not taking away the air of mystery. Somehow, it would do all of those things and leave him looking much more appealing than Monny.

      He took another sip of Coke and felt the cold liquid trickle down his throat. Right. And I’m the next Joe Montana.

      Lori secured the lid back on a two-liter bottle of Dr Pepper and slid the full plastic cup toward a young man with multiple tattoos on his arms. “Here you go.”

      “Thanks.” He took the cup and smiled before leaving to mingle with the rest of the youth group. A few years ago, Lori would have seen someone like that—tattooed and pierced—on the streets and immediately cast judgment. But these kids had shown her that what was on the surface didn’t always accurately reveal the heart.

      She watched the tattooed guy meander through the crowd toward Andy, who greeted the young man by name and slung an arm around his thin shoulders in greeting. It seemed Andy was finally back in top form. The first half of his sermon she’d wondered if he was okay—he looked distracted, almost frustrated at times. But the longer he talked about the importance of friendship and fellowshipping together at church, the more involved he became, and eventually that determined spark lit his eyes once again. Now he interacted with the youth group as if he had nothing else on his mind.

      Friendship—Andy’s specialty. Lori supposed he was living proof of the age-old argument that a man and woman could be just friends and nothing else. She sighed. Story of her life. She’d sworn off dating after Jason cheated on her. Now that she finally felt a little more interest in getting out there again, her Mr. Right remained oblivious.

      Lori shoved the two-liter across the counter to make room and leaned over, bracing her elbows against the worn Formica and wishing she could turn off her worries as fast as Andy seemed to during the sermon. Who was her secret admirer? Not Andy, as much as she wanted him to be. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body—and definitely not toward her, the girl he burped in front of during monthly movie nights at her town house. If Andy cared about impressing her, he would have done so long before now. They’d been friends for years, and he’d never shown even a flicker of interest. Lori learned months ago to quit trying before her heart got broken yet again.

      All secret-admirer signs pointed to Monny. Earlier today, when she told Andy as much, she’d felt almost certain Monny was the culprit. But once she and Monny left for the day, he gave his usual goodbye wave and wink and disappeared into the back alley without a word about the flowers. Lori couldn’t decide if she felt disappointed or relieved. Interest from a handsome Italian chef would definitely be a day-brightener, but in the overall picture, it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t date Monny even if he was her secret admirer. Despite his charm, dark good looks and delicious accent, he just wasn’t Andy—silly, rumpled, prankster Andy, who could always make Lori laugh with a dumb joke and tell what she was thinking often before Lori even knew herself.

      Lori traced her fingernail across the fading design on the countertop, and the rhythmic thumping of a dribbling basketball nearby punctuated her thoughts. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. The flowers and card were real enough, but maybe the secret-admirer concept wasn’t. Just because the card was signed that way didn’t mean someone was being serious. It could have even been a youth-group member playing a joke.

      “Lori? You okay?” Haley stepped up to the counter and waved her hand in front of Lori’s face. “You’re totally somewhere else.”

      “No, I’m here. Just thinking.” Lori straightened, then frowned as a movement across the gym caught her attention. Andy was staring at them, his face pale and drawn, his eyes wide. He stepped forward as if to approach them but was held back by a youth-group member demanding his attention. He looked back and forth between the kid and Lori before settling his gaze on the youth, the panicked expression only slightly fading.

      Was Andy feeling sick again? She’d have to talk to him after the kids left and make sure he was okay. Lori turned her attention back to Haley. “What kind of drink do you want?”

      “How about one that will give me enough guts to tell Jeremy I want to get back together?” She slumped over the counter-top, mimicking Lori’s previous position.

      Lori smiled. “Trouble in teen paradise?”

      “Something like that.” Haley rolled her eyes.

      “I think Coke should do the trick.” Lori poured her a glass and slid it across the counter. “What’s going on?”

      “I was fine with our breakup, but after hearing Pastor Andy’s talk tonight on friendship, I realized that I miss him. Jeremy is—was—my best friend on top of being my boyfriend.” Haley poked an ice cube with her pink-painted fingernail. “I guess I forgot that part when we started fighting and called it quits.”

      “He’ll take you back.”

      “How can you be so sure?”

      “Because he probably feels the exact same way.” Lori gestured over Haley’s shoulder. Jeremy stood alone near the stage, hands in his pockets and head hung low, as if studying his shoes. He shuffled his feet, looked over toward the kitchen where Haley stood, then down again.

      Haley turned back to Lori. “What should I do?”

      “You know what they say.” Lori nudged the plate of leftover chocolate cookies closer to Haley. “The way to a man’s heart…”

      Haley plucked two cookies from the pile, hope lighting her eyes. “Thanks, Lori. Of course you would think of that, working at the Chocolate Gator and all. I bet—”

      “Wait, how do you know where I work?” Lori interjected. That was odd. She hadn’t told any of the youth-group kids yet. “I just started.”

      Haley’s eyes widened to giant orbs. “Um, Pastor Andy mentioned it earlier. When I asked where the cookies came from.” She snatched a napkin from the counter. “Gotta go. Thanks again.” Then she whisked across the floor toward Jeremy, narrowly dodging a man rolling up the thick black cords from the sound table.

      Lori