52. Chocolates Do Not Suck

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{Valentine's Day Eve}

I've decided I'm a moron, believing that a singular thought would make him, the spitting image of ​​Chris Hemsworth, magically appear in my room, or, at the very least, at my front door.

I'm a blithering idiot.

But not as big an idiot as Jian, though, so that’s some consolation.

Ugh!

I slap my palm to my forehead and shake my head. Hell, I don't even know if Stefan's in the same time zone, never mind whether he's next door with Felicia right now!

I finish my internal self-condescension and finally shower, change, and put my hair up. I'm pleased to discover my mane is now long enough to put up again.

Clean, and no longer feeling maudlin, I pad barefoot into the living room. I think about making tea. I squinch my face. I hate tea. Since Lance’s wedding, though, I've been drinking tea. Drowning myself in it, really. Someone at school told me that it would be soothing. It is. Soothing, I mean.

But it tastes like flowers.

And right n