2
The first Valentine’s Day he remembers is first grade.
He and Hal were in the same class, and the holiday fell on a Wednesday. Tuesday afternoon, they made “Valentine Mailboxes” in Miss Donna’s class and set them up on their desks, ready to receive Valentines the next morning. Hal’s mailbox was a shoebox with a narrow slit cut into the top, papered in uneven red and pink hearts he’d cut from craft paper and glued on over a painstaking hour that ended in glued-together fingers and a sticky desk. Luke’s box was wrapped in brown paper, and he’d used a thin-line Sharpie to draw cartoon hearts and stick figures on all four sides, tiny comic strips with senseless plots.
At home, on the rug in Luke’s living room, they tore open boxes of Valentines – Batman for Hal, Iron Man for Luke – and addressed one to each of their classmates. There had to be one for everybody, Miss Donna had said. No one could be left out. They taped little hearts of Dove chocolate to the envelopes, scrawled the names carefully.
Hal unwrapped a piece of chocolate, popped it in his mouth and talked around it like a slob. “Do you think I’ll get one from Amy?” He looked hopeful – as hopeful as a person could look while wallowing chocolate around in his mouth.
Luke shrugged. “I guess. Miss Donna said we have to give to everybody in the class.”
“Yeah. But.” And Hal got a weird look on his face, a kind of smile Luke hadn’t seen before.
Luke didn’t like it, he decided.
The next day, everyone in class went around delivering Valentines like little postal workers, dropping them into all the decorated boxes. Afterward, they went back to their desks and descended on their loot like hyenas.
“Oh wow,” Hal breathed, and unfolded a large red square of paper. When he showed it to Luke, Luke felt his throat close up.
It was a carefully-drawn scene: a girl in a pink dress with yellow hair, holding hands with a dark-haired boy as they sat at a table with the word “Café” printed above. A cloud of red and pink hearts surrounded them. Written in black crayon:Dear Hal, Will you be my Valentine? Love, Amy.
When Hal went to thank Amy, he kissed her on the cheek.
Luke stared at his pile of Valentines and wondered why it was so hard to breathe.
~*~
He knows now that he was jealous all along growing up. Unconsciously at first, and then actively, when they were in high school, and gorgeous, curvy, pink-lipped girls sent red carnations to Hal – so many he had to borrow a beaker of water from the biology teacher to use as a vase. Rather than handle his feelings, Luke developed an intense hatred for the holiday.
And now…now he doesn’t know how to change gears.
He sighs as he flips through the L.L. Bean catalogue he found sitting on Sandy’s kitchen table. He’d laugh – Haldoeslook like he just stepped out of the glossy pages – except he’s so bereft of ideas he’s actually considering buying his boyfriend another of those ribbed sweaters he loves so much. Some romantic gift:here’s a sweater; put it on and then take it off real slow for me, baby.
Across the table, Will grunts. “Thought you were s’posed to be asking me something.”
“I am.” He flips the catalogue shut and reaches for his pen. “I just wanted to clarify a few things about–”
“Will, go easy on Luke,” Sandy says from the counter where she’s preparing something complicated that involves a whole pork shoulder. “He’s distracted.”
“No I’m not,” Luke says, but it’s too late.
“By what?” Will asks.
He sighs. When he glances over his shoulder, Sandy is giving him an encouraging smile.
“I think it’s sweet,” she says.
“What?” Will asks again, impatient.
“He’s trying to figure out what to get Hal for Valentine’s Day.”
Luke resists the urge to duck down into the neck of his hoodie.
Will stares at him. Luke isn’t expecting what he says. “Well, you have to get him something.”
“I know.”
“He’s gonna get you something.”
