Nugget Valentine

Day 2

So I was off to a good start. That was all sweet and romantic, wasn't it? You won't be thinking it was so sweet if you were me by the end of it. 

Anyway, moving on to day 2.

February 15th

I'm sitting in the last class at school and the art teacher just happens to mention what happened yesterday. How he and his wife gave each other surprises. Then he went on to ask what happened to us. He started with Kendall, who was that one make up obsessed girl you would never find single. She went off about how she got three gifts from three different boys but she only kept the one her boyfriend gave and all. I wasn't really paying attention I just overheard or something. 

Jumana leans over to me and asks me if I'm going to tell everyone about the anonymous nugget case but I shake my head. I didn't want to get picked on. When it's my turn, I manage to lie and say my parents took me out to eat and told me they loved me. 

Yeah right, like they'll ever actually take me out to eat.

My mom believed homemade food was the only blessing anyone would ever need. She near never let me touch food from out–which is why I was kind of glad I got the nuggets, it wasn't a luxury I got to enjoy often.

Someone hisses at me and I turn to see Kendall looking at me. I raise my eyebrows hoping she could read my facial expression.

"You didn't get any valentine gifts from boys?" she whispers.

"No?" I question her. "Why are you even asking?"

"You didn't get one last year either... How 'bout a girl? Any gifts from a girl?" she teased.

"Shut up Kendall." I turn back to face the front of the class. The teacher's about done prying and lets us off. We all head out. Jumana would have come with me but she had to stay back since she was part of the student council and they had a meeting.

Riding closer to my building, I see the delivery truck, blocking the door way–again. This time, I'm determined to tell off the driver. I wait in front of the truck this time. 10 minutes pass and no one comes out. 

I start inspecting the truck since I'm so bored. It was some food place called Fried 'n Friendly which, now that I think about it, was the logo printed onto the cloth of the bouquet from yesterday. 

I hurry inside, hoping the delivery guy would be at my door. To my luck, he's standing there, holding the box and ringing my bell. I walk up to him and wait for him to notice me. 

"Do you live here?" he finally asks.

"Yes." I appear unusually calm, even to me. 

"Oh great. Here. Delivery for Ms. Janie Khan. The customer ordered in advance and didn't even give an address we had to check the directory it's quite bothersome but he paid a sum so we're glad to cater. Sign here." He offers me a clip board and a pen and before I can say anything, takes out his vibrating phone and answers a call. I sign the sheet and he hands me the box, not looking back as he walks off towards the stairs. I stare at him, confused. 

A box? Again?

But it wasn't even Valentine's Day. And there was absolutely no way anyone at home could have ordered this...

The delivery guy said the customer was a male. So it was a boy sending me stuff. But who was this boy?!

I hurried inside after unlocking the door and rushed up to my room. Putting the box on the bed, I  went and hunted around in the closet for my old yearbook. I must have spent maybe hours–okay, maybe I'm exaggerating this part just a teensy bit–or something going through the whole book and eating the nuggets in the new box. 

I only noticed the card after I had finished the last bite and grabbed it hoping it might have a clue as to who it was.

Dear Janie, my sweet lady, 

I do know that Valentine has come to pass, but please. Accept my token of love. 

-H

This one was slightly a bit creepy. He was using my name now... Who is this guy?!

I can't even look at the handwriting to compare because this was finely printed. I could tell a lot of money had gone into the small mediocre looking gift. 

I gave up during my third time going through the year book again. No one seemed suspicious. No one at all that I knew.