First valentine

　　Olivia’s face is spotless. No black eyes. No split lips. I bring out a sandwich from my bag without breaking my gaze from her. Ben tries to follow my eyes and I quickly look away. She does her make up really well.

　　“Stop staring,” Ben says. He takes one of the sandwiches. “You’ll make her uncomfortable.”

　　“She looks so different,” I whisper. I dig into my sandwich after cutting off the crusts.

　　There’s no trace of the girl from last night, her lips are okay. She can apply perfect makeup on a bruised face and I can’t draw my brows without looking like a clown. It’s unfair how God distributed talents.

　　“Gracie, stop staring.”

　　It’s hard not to. But I try. Ben goes on and on about the play while I give the occasional nods to show I am listening. He catches on pretty quick to my stunt and his infamous scowl appears on his lips. I shrug.

　　“If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?” he asks. “Somewhere you’ve never been.”