MY PANCAKE

I sighed heavily, playing with one of the knives and forks that were placed in a pot on the café table. It was Shrove Tuesday – or Pancake Day – which just happened to fall just two days after Valentine's Day this year.

I, Tania Murray, have never had a boyfriend. So Valentine's Day is a low for me. It's not that I hate Valentine's Day, it's just I've no reason to celebrate it.

So on this particular Shrove Tuesday, I wasn't in a good mood. Couples were still happily rubbing it in everybody else's faces that they were in a relationship, and as we'd had an inset day on the Monday all the couples at my school were giving each other Valentine's gifts today.

After an entire day of watching everybody but me feeling loved up and kissing and hugging everywhere, I'd decided to comfort eat at the café just around the corner from school by pigging out on the gorgeous pancakes they cooked this time of year as a Pancake Day special.

Unfortunately, most of the kids from my school had come in here to take advantage of the offer themselves and were currently making out over plates of pancakes, whilst I sat alone playing with my knife and fork. Fun.

Just as I thought that, the young redheaded waitress with unfortunate braces put my pancake down in front of me. "Enjoy your pancake," she trilled brightly, sashaying away.

I pulled the plate towards me, examining the pancake and did a double take.

It had been cut into the shape of a heart, and a message had been written across the pancake's surface in golden syrup:

Will you be my pancake?

I stared at the message, and then looked up, staring around the café. My eyes fell upon a grinning young man who was stood behind the counter. He wore a T-shirt, and an apron, and he'd been a waiter here for the past year. I recognised him as he went to the college near my school.

He waved, grinning, and then mouthed, "So, will you?"