“It’s Valentine’s Day!” He said cheerfully presenting Annette with a rose. She looked at him and smiled a smile full of expectance, as if he was supposed to say something else. “Well, happy Valentine’s Day!” He grins at her as she takes the flower from his outstretched hand.
She raises an eyebrow, and continues to stare at him. “Yes.” She says.
He frowns. “Come on, Annette. It’s all I could afford! How old are you anyway?” He demanded, assuming that she was upset about his lack of pageantry.
“Seventeen,” She says, emphatically.
He was silently confused.
“Yeah…” She said, turning and walking away.
That’s when he remembered that yesterday had been her birthday.
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