Free Labeled Love by Danielle Rocco

down the last few days, but I couldn’t do anything about the bruising. It is what it is. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I want to concentrate on making Shay a card and not what I’m going to tell her about my face. I get to the center before her. Wasting no time, I sit down with construction paper and start making her card. It’s been a long week of turmoil at home. School sucks, and I just want to see her. As I finish drawing the best pink heart I can, I see her walk through the door.
    Everything falls away.
    Taking the note I wrote her over the weekend, I slip it between the folded construction paper. I set it aside because I’m not ready to give it to her yet. 
    She’s practically skipping toward me. She’s always happy. Plopping down next to me, she nudges my shoulder. I look to the side and give her a smirk, but I stay focused in front of me to try to keep my eye out of view. She places a white paper bag next to me. Bright colored pencils full of hearts and flowers decorate it. There’s even a football. That makes me smile wider.
     I keep looking at the bag. She wrote in cursive the words:
    You’re the greatest. You’re the best. Best Friends Forever. You’re a great athlete. You are the sweetest boy. I love your eyes. I love your heart, and you’re the cutest boy ever.
    That last sentence makes me glance over at her. I raise my eyebrows. She rolls her eyes. Then I look back at the bag taking it all in.Below the words “cutest boy,” she wrote in big bold red letters:
     
    BE MY VALENTINE .
     
    My heart squeezes in my chest. As I turn in my chair, my eyes meet hers, and every single crappy moment I’ve had away from her is gone. Her eyes radiate warmth, and I can’t stop looking into them. I slip my hand under the table and find her hand sitting on her lap. I put it in mine. She interlaces our fingers, giving them a little squeeze. God, she really doesn’t have a clue what she does to me. My thumb draws small circles on her soft skin. “Can I open it?” I ask. Her bright blue eyes go straight to the purple bruise I’m sporting. I inhale deeply, waiting for the question.
    “What happened to your eye?”
    “I hit it against something at home,” I say. Shay sticks out her bottom lip.
    “Ouch, that must have hurt. I can see a bruise.”
    “Yeah, it wasn’t that bad. It just bruised a little bit.” I brush it off. She gives me a sad smile, but looks satisfied with my answer. The bruising really went down, so it seems legit.
    “No. You can’t open it yet,” she says, surprising me. Damn, I really want to look inside the bag. “I want you to open it when you get home.”
    “Okay,” I say quietly. Reaching over with my free hand, I slide over her card I made her. Her smile reaches her warm eyes as she reads the front first. It reads, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” with the year encased in a large pink heart. She lets go of my hand under the table so she can open her card. Then she slowly opens it like it’s the most precious thing to her. I watch her intently as she reads the small words I wrote inside surrounded by little red and pink hearts. The letter I wrote her from home falls to the table, exposing what I tucked inside her Valentine’s card. Little pink words written in my best cursive are the words:
     
    Be my girl .
     
    She closes the homemade card and raises it to her chest. Her long, dark eyelashes close, and when she opens them, she looks at me and says, “You have my heart.” I reach up with my sweaty palm and run it over her warm cheek. Her blue eyes never leave mine. We’re pretty much lost in each other. She shakes her head with the biggest, widest smile, as her eyes get a little watery. Grabbing the note I wrote that fell away, I hand it to her. “Oh, I… I’m sorry. I was kind of taken for a moment by what you wrote in my card.”
    I lean over and kiss her cheek. “You don’t have to read it now. Actually, read it when you get home. But, can you write down your