I only had three things on my list upon walking into Target: sunscreen, shampoo, and something special for myself, since it was Valentine’s Day and I had no one else to be with. Being single didn’t necessarily bother me as it did other people, though. I was happy and content on my own. Still, sometimes I wondered what it would be like to experience something as pure and genuine as true love, something so special you could only share it with one other person. I mean, what were the odds of such a thing? To me, love was a form of gambling, and I was the type of person who never had much interest in risking the loss. Hence the 19 years of inexperience I had going for me.

The sun was setting outside, so the store wasn’t too packed. I headed straight for the beauty aisle, perusing the options a bit, knowing I’d get the same kind of sunscreen I always did. The shampoo was in the next aisle over; I stashed it in my basket and made my way to the Valentine’s Day collection at the front.

It was quite a gallant display for a holiday that only seemed to further depress a certain group of people. I appreciated the effort, though, and even found myself smiling as I browsed the different cards, flowers, and boxes of chocolate. If I had a partner, I would spoil them. But since I didn’t, I was perfectly fine spoiling myself.

“Finding everything okay?”

I froze, my hand wrapped around a bouquet of fake flowers. Next to me stood a girl who appeared to be around my age, wearing a red polo and a polite smile on her face. Her hair was dark brown with streaks of pink, and she’d put it up into a high pony, exposing a pair of heart-shaped earrings. I’d seen countless girls in my life, but none had ever captivated me like this, and all she’d done was ask me a question and wait for the answer.

I remembered then that I was supposed to reply. “Um, yeah. Just looking for something for my girlfriend,” I said, and instantly regretted it. The lie lit my face on fire. I set the bouquet back on the shelf and pretended to search for something else.

“Need any last-minute ideas?” the girl prodded, and though I knew she was just being polite and doing her job, that rasp in her voice was bound to bring me to the floor if she kept speaking. It was for my own sake that I got her to go elsewhere.

“I think I’ve got it,” I assured her. I reached for a teddy bear for good measure. In its paws was a heart that read, “I love only you.” I added it to the basket.

“Alright, then. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I turned and smiled, but the sight of her gave me whiplash. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too,” I managed to say. Then, in the split seconds that followed, I imagined her leaving, the two of us never crossing paths again, a grand opportunity gone straight down the drain, and I knew I couldn’t let her go. It was a gamble, of course, but it was a risk I was willing to take. What did I have to lose?

Just as she was turning away, I stepped forward and said, “Actually, what I told you was a lie. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She stopped and faced me, the polite smile faltering a bit, but her eyes were bright with amusement, and so, so pretty. They were dark brown, like my own, but my reflection would never get me weak like this.

“Oh.” She laughed, and I thought it would be the end of me right then. “Why’d you lie?”

“I…don’t know, really.” I dropped my eyes to the basket in my hand and took out the teddy bear. “It was just a reflex or something, I guess. I’ve been single my whole life.”

“Oh,” she said again, but this time, there was no laughter. When I met her eyes again, I couldn’t fully read her, but I assumed that she was trying not to pry. The thing was, I wanted her to. I wanted her to know me completely, and I wanted to know her just as well. I wanted to move past this barrier that separated customer and employee. I wanted something pure, genuine, and special. Something only she could give me.