For Valentines Day, the cooking club decided to have a fundraiser so we can have more money to buy ingredients. Hopefully, we could afford to prepare more protein instead of our usual meals prepared with an abundance of potatoes and starches. Plus, we've been having trouble buying pricey fresh fruit.

So, the idea was to sell some edible Valentines that could be delivered with a handmade card. Initially, it was suggested that we make cupcakes, until I pointed out that the frosting would likely melt unless we frosted hours before delivering, an impossible task since we had classes before lunch. So, I suggested some sugar cookies frosted with royal icing that could be personalized by writing people's names on it, which was a unanimous decision to go with surprisingly.

However, I failed to notice I was the only one who knew how to bake and frost, so I had to teach everyone a basic sugar cookie recipe. The next day, I tried to teach people how to frost, but it was a complete mess, with a load of our cookies being wasted by the end of it. So, the game plan was changed and the ones who knew the recipe best besides me would bake, the others would make the cards, and I would be the lone froster.

Because I was the only one frosting, the cookie designed had to be compromised. Our fancy laced hearts were changed into various pastel hearts that would have names in red icing to resemble the conversation heart candies. This way, I could actually manage to frost a couple hundred of them, though I'm not sure that many will be sold.

After the long weekend of preparations, we were ready to start selling some. People would fill out the recipient, then choose a card design, write a message in it and whether they wanted to disclosed their name. Then, I would pipe out the names on the cookies while everyone else helped packaged the cookies. Luckily, someone had the idea to make a spreadsheet that ordered the recipient names alphabetically, so I would know how many times I had to pipe a certain and I can make all of them at once and not confuse myself. It was up to the packagers to know who specially to hand it to.

I was really curious when the spreadsheet said I had to pipe Vincent twenty-two times. There is no way one person got that many orders. Though, I haven't met many people with the name. Soon after, I got to the W's, not having to pipe Wendy at all. I never expect anything for Valentines Day, but I could feel my stomach knot as I tried to find my name and having the knot collapse in my gut like a bowling ball when I couldn't find. What was I expecting?

Being in the club, I definitely had to contribute by purchasing some cookies myself. However, the recipient I had in mind may or may not have twenty-two of them already coming his way. So, I decided to and send anonymous letters to two friends, telling them to meet me at my job at six o'clock.

Kelly is sitting next to me, with a mic in hand and a table full of packages cookies. She calls out each individual's name to come up to the table and grab their Valentine. Everyone tries to section off different numbers of cookies for each person. Most receive one, and at most seven, though that many only come from friends. I don't try to help at all, but I have an excuse and everyone knows it. My hands are completely cramped from piping hundreds of cookies, and smell of frosting is enough to make me puke.

The V's approach, and I listen intensively for "Vincent".

"Vincent Brown," Kelly calls.

The recipient walks up. Kelly reaches for one cookies and hands it to him.

"Vincent Miller."

Vincent seems hesitant to walk up, but his track friends push him forward.

"These are all of yours I believe," Kelly laughs in disbelief. She check the spreadsheet again. "Yep, a total of twenty-one."

"Dang, Vincent," whistles one of his friends. "How many girls have you been flirting with?" he teases.

Vincent has to rake his pile of cookies into his backpack. His friends clamor around him, asking for a cookie. He agrees, but seems to scan over each card before giving the corresponding cookies away. By the end, he had given most of them away, not eating a single one himself. Although the Vincent received a lot, he busies himself with the cards, scanning over them repeatedly, searching for something it looked like.

"I'm not surprised he got so much," someone says at a table behind me.

"Yeah, he's pretty popular," her friend agrees.

"No, it's not that."

"What do you mean then? Why else would he get so much of them?" She laughs.

"Um, didn't you hear about his crush? He liked some ugly ass girl all year. No wonder every girl thinks they have a chance with him now."

"Oh, yeah. Is she that ugly?"

"I don't know. I don't have any classes with her. I just heard that she's ugly."

"Did they date?"

"No, he probably moved on by now," she scoffs.

Does Vincent have a Valentine? My gut drags down my heart with it.

"Wendy," Jose pokes my shoulder.

"Oh, hey."

"We had some leftover cookies and the club decided to give them to you since you worked so hard. The cookies turned out great," he pats me on the shoulder after dropping a bag of cookies into my lap.

"Thanks, " I place them into my backpack, catching Vincent looking at me do so. When he realizes I saw him, he leaves, forgetting his pile of cards on the lunch table.

"You've been promoted to the stove," Jose shakes my hand jokingly.

"Wow, such an honor," I sarcastically reply. Though, I am relieved. I don't want to be dicing vegetables anymore.

Jose helps Kelly clean up, putting unclaimed cookies back into the box to be delivered tomorrow. Part of me is compelled to look over them to try to find my name. I only take and quick glance before getting to class.

After school, I ride in Ally's car. She suggested we save gas since we go to school and work at the same time anyways.

We stop by her shop first since its closer to the entrance.

"You promised you asked to get off work at seven, right?" I check.

"Yeah, you sent that card didn't you?"

"No," I deny.

"Ally folds her arms, staring at my for the truth. "Really?"

"Fine, I did," I sigh, disappointed she found out.

"How come?"

"Its a surprise."

"You better not be hitting on me, Wendy," Ally jokes.

"Make sure to stop by the food court by seven."

"Alright, alright. Jeez."

"Okay, I'll see you later," I wave.

Ms. Ann is sitting on a stool in the corner when I get there. The shop is slow as usual, though Ms. Ann seems disappointed that the holiday has failed to bring anymore customers.

"Hi, Ms. Ann," I greet.

"Hi, Wendy," she sighs, staring at the cash register.

I go in the back to change into my uniform, leaving my backpack in my locker.

"What's wrong?" I ask, though I'm fairly sure of the reason.

"I don't get it. The shop gets less business each day," she sighs.

"Have you tried promotions?"

"I added waffle cones to the menu," she replies.

"I mean like something unique. Something most shops don't have."

"Well, I don't know. All of my ice cream is freshly made," she throws her hands up in exasperation.

"Well, maybe you should try unique flavors."

She gets up to look at her flavors, which consists of mainly the basics and one flavor choices.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'm not really sure. Maybe some flavor combinations like bacon and maple. Or having large chucks of cookies mixed into the ice cream. Japanese green tea is really popular nowadays. Or some floral flavors like rose and lavender," I suggest.

"I don't know if I know how to make those. I've been making the same recipes for years." She does seem to take my suggestion into consideration, disappearing into the back and shuffling through the fridge for some ingredients.

I wait for Ally to arrive for the rest of the time, occasionally taking some orders, though not many.

"Hey, Wendy."

I jump up form the stool when I see Carson.

"Hey, Carson."

"I didn't know you worked here," he says.

"Yeah. What's up?" I pretend not to know.

"Oh, I'm supposed to meet someone here."

"Oh, cool."

He sits down at a nearby table and busies himself with his phone.

I pretend to be busy, stalling by filling all the topping bottles to the max.

He gets up after a while. I panic.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, I think I've been stood up," he laughs.

"No, no. Sit down," I urge, quite forcefully.

Carson is suspicious of my weird behavior, but reluctantly sits down.

Luckily, Ally arrives soon after.

"Hey, Ally!"

"Hey..." Ally is surprised by my excitement.

"Sit down, I instruct.

Quickly, I go to the back to get some pastry scrapers. I begin to cut slivers of ice cream from the tub, shaping them in curves around a waffle cone. After finishing the first cone, I set it aside on a rack and work on the other. Ms. Ann comes out to observe me I'm sure, since I heard the clicks of her shoes. Though, I'm nervous I'll be scolded for messing around. By the end of it, Ms. Ann's raspberry sorbet was transformed into a rose on top of a waffle cone, which I had learned from watching online videos.

"Here you guys go," I hand them to Ally and Carson, who had started conversing while waiting.

"This is so cute, Wendy," Ally gushes.

"Yeah, thanks," Carson admired, but wastes no time in tasting it.

"On me," I proudly offer.

"Well, I gotta go since I've been stood up," Carson says, getting up from his seat.

"That sucks. What kind of girl would stand you up?" Ally responds.

"Not sure actually. Kinda got the Valentine cookie thing and someone told me to meet them here."

"Oh. Wendy did that to me..."It takes them a few second to comprehend what is going on.

"Surprise," I weakly smile.

"Wendy," they both sigh. "You did this?"

"Yep," I say now much more proudly.

"This is awkward," Ally says.

"A bit," Carson agrees.

"Have fun on your date, guy." I try to run but Ally pulls me back.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"You want me to third wheel your date?" I ask.

"You sort of already did by setting it up."

"I'm trying to play cupid here," I pout playfully.

"I'm not complaining," Carson jumps in.

"What?" Ally asks in surprise. "You're not mad Wendy made you wait?"

"The wait was worth it," he smiles.

Ally cheeks turn the color of the raspberry sherbet she holds.

The view is a double edged sword. While very adorable, it is enough for any third person to puke from jealousy. I leave the two of them alone and they slowly drift off to go on a date.

"Where did you learn to make that rose cone thing?" Ms. Ann asks.

"I saw some viral video on it."

"Excuse me," a couple asks from the counter.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"We just saw some ice cream shaped like a rose. Did it come from this shop?"

"Well, actually-" I begin to explain, but Ms. Ann jumps in.

"Yes, its our promotion item. Would you like one?"

"Sure," they agree. "Two chocolate ones please."

I nod, going out back to get a cup of hot water to dip the scraper in. Meanwhile, Ms. Ann grabs her tiny chalkboard and writes Rose Cone: $6, a dollar above our waffle cone ice cream price. The first couple attracts more people, and for the first time working at the shop, I finally see a line forming. Ms. Ann gets excited, leaving the back for once and tends to the register and toppings while I continue to form petals repeatedly on waffle cones.

As a reward, Ms. Ann lets me treat myself to some leftover ice cream once the shop closed. Before I can do so, I help Ms. Ann clean up the mess from our frenzy.

"Wendy," someone calls. I bring refills of toppings to the front with me.

"Hey, Vincent," I greet, almost in a stutter.

"Hey."

"What's up?" I try to casually ask, but I could already feel the hammers in my chest.

"Ally texted me saying you needed a ride home," he explains.

"Oh, she did?" I reach into the pocket of my apron, checking for texts from Ally.

Ally: I can be cupid too.

"Oh, she did."

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, just give me a few seconds."

I fix some vanilla into petals and transfer in onto a leftover sugar cookie.

"Here you go," I offer to Vincent.

"Thanks," he accepts. "So you're the one who make the rose ice cream. Saw a bunch of people walking around with it."

"Oh, yeah." Vincent noticed!

"It's really pretty."

"Thanks." The hammers in my chest get faster.

"Isn't this the sugar cookie from school?"

"Oh, yeah. I noticed you didn't get to try any since you gave them away."

"Yeah, I was kinda disappointed. Was hoping someone in particular would send me one," he sighed.

I guess he already moved on. I want to ask him who he was interested in, but I don't think I would be able to handle the thought of it.

"Wouldn't Jose get upset you have me the cookies he gave you?"

"These are leftovers from the club. I got them since I was the only one frosting the cookies."

"Wait, so he didn't give it to you as a Valentine?"

"Nope. I never got a Valentine in my life," I laugh.

Vincent shoulders loosen and he lets out a deep breath, like hes been holding it in for a while.

"And you made the cookie?"

"Yeah. I can switch it with a waffle cone if you don't like sugar cookies." I reach for it, but Vincent retracts his hand, taking a quick bite out of it.

"I'm going to eat it," he says between his chews.

"You didn't seem interested in it at school," I observe.

"Yeah, but now I have a reason to be interested."

Must be the vanilla ice cream.

"Here," he hands me red box with a pink ribbon on it. "I ordered two of them, but I got full."

I look at the box questionably, but open it anyways. inside is a Styrofoam box with my favorite diner item, a breakfast burrito with broccoli and tortilla chips added.

"It came with a box and ribbon like this?"

"Yep, it was a promotion," Vincent says, in a tone that wavered a bit.

"Thanks," I smile, quickly taking a bite out of it. Even though it was cold, it tasted better than usual.

"Don't forget your backpack, Wendy." Ms. Ann hands me my belongings herself.

"You don't need me to help you clean up?"

"You did more than enough today," she says, much more cheerful than when I saw her earlier. "You must be Wendy's boyfriend," Ms. Ann smiles at Vincent.

"Oh, we're just... classmates," I explain, tempted to say friends out of habit.

"Sure..." Ms. Ann says, unconvinced. "Its normal to stare at vanilla ice cream every five seconds and burritos come in fancy red boxes. Try to be less obvious next time if you're going to deny it," she sighs.