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Valentine's Writing Contest


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#1 admin_ann

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Posted 23 January 2013 - 12:26 AM

Hello Everyone,

Do you love Valentine's day? Do you hate Valentine's day? Either way, a story is inside you, waiting to be written.

Here's what to do:

Write a story of around 1,000 words on the theme of Valentine's day. Your story must also start with one of the following lines.

1) Around Valentine’s Day, it's easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist.

2) I hate Valentine’s Day.

3) If only he knew. But he doesn’t.

4) Oh why did my school decide to have the Sadie Hawkin’s Dance on Valentine’s Day?!

5) In two days, my world will end.

During Valentine's week, everyone will vote for their favorite (you can't vote for yourself!) and the winner will get a free book, signed by Meg!

Good luck!
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#2 OwlEyes

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Posted 23 January 2013 - 08:09 AM

Hey. I was just wondering, when should we post the stories? When is the deadline?
And how much would you give or take on that 1000 words?



XOXO


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#3 admin_ann

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Posted 23 January 2013 - 10:45 AM

Hi! You can post until Valentine's Day. Don't go too much over 1,000 words. Use your judgment.


Hey. I was just wondering, when should we post the stories? When is the deadline?
And how much would you give or take on that 1000 words?



XOXO


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#4 Keren

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Posted 23 January 2013 - 12:58 PM

I'm kinda new here. I want to write a story though. I need to know where and how I should post it. I'm sorry if it seems really dumb, but I'm not sure if I should just post an entire story as a reply.
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#5 angelmuziq

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Posted 23 January 2013 - 10:23 PM

So... after about 2 hours of non- stop typing I have a pretty good short story if I do say so myself, but I have one little problem... its about 2,000 words too long. LOL I dont think I can cut it down without losing the meat of the plot. Help!

Anyway I'm thankful for the prompt because it was a lot of fun writing and I couldn't stop until I was finished and thats a great feeling. Maybe I can turn the short story into a full length one.

Good luck to all those writers out there!

And Meg, you rock!
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#6 Loulou15

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Posted 24 January 2013 - 08:43 AM

Many thanks for posting this competition, I have thoroughly enjoyed whittling out a coherent short story. I write novellas a lot but it's been a long time since I wrote a short.

I have managed it, yay, and it's 1,018 words! That is an accomplishment in itself that I haven't waffled on.

I found the prompts really inspiring and I am pretty sure I could develop it into a novella, and I'm also sure that I want to write a story for each prompt.

Once my editor hat has been on and then I think I am truly finished I will post.

Just wanted to say thanks, I have loved doing this and can't wait to see what other people come up with :)

Have a good day everyone!

Louise
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#7 admin_ann

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Posted 25 January 2013 - 05:35 PM

I'm kinda new here. I want to write a story though. I need to know where and how I should post it. I'm sorry if it seems really dumb, but I'm not sure if I should just post an entire story as a reply.


Yes! Post your story on this thread.
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#8 chapuung

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Posted 27 January 2013 - 05:53 AM

I'm new and who brought me here was my friend.
She told me about this because she knew I love Meg Cabot and her books (of course!).
Anyhow, English is not my first language. So, is it okay if there're some grammatical errors? It's really hard to decide what tense to use in a first-person's-point-of-view story.
Thanks!
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#9 admin_ann

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Posted 27 January 2013 - 07:58 PM

I'm new and who brought me here was my friend.
She told me about this because she knew I love Meg Cabot and her books (of course!).
Anyhow, English is not my first language. So, is it okay if there're some grammatical errors? It's really hard to decide what tense to use in a first-person's-point-of-view story.
Thanks!



Non-native speakers of English are welcome! Post your stories on this thread.
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#10 anna.soleil86

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Posted 28 January 2013 - 10:53 AM

Hello,

I was wondering if there is an age limit for those entering this contest? I want to enter, but I'm (newly) 26 and wasn't sure I'd be allowed. I love Meg's books!

Thank you!

AnnaMarie
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#11 MegCabot

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Posted 28 January 2013 - 05:51 PM

Hello,

I was wondering if there is an age limit for those entering this contest? I want to enter, but I'm (newly) 26 and wasn't sure I'd be allowed. I love Meg's books!

Thank you!

AnnaMarie


There is no age limit. Writers of all ages and experience are welcome!

Meg
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#12 MegCabot

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Posted 28 January 2013 - 05:56 PM

One thing I will add though is that because this is a site with readers of all ages, please keep your stories rated "PG" . . . in other words, no Valentine's Day erotica please!

Although of course that would be very interesting . . .

But it's more of a creative challenge to keep it clean while also building the romantic suspense! Good luck!

Meg
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#13 anna.soleil86

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 01:23 PM

One thing I will add though is that because this is a site with readers of all ages, please keep your stories rated "PG" . . . in other words, no Valentine's Day erotica please!

Although of course that would be very interesting . . .

But it's more of a creative challenge to keep it clean while also building the romantic suspense! Good luck!

Meg


Thank you, Meg! And I can assure you that Valentine's Erotica was not- and probably will never be- in the realm of possibility as far as my writing... I can never get past the thought of, "WHAT IF MY MOTHER FOUND OUT?!" She scares me. LOL

Thanks again!

Anna
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#14 WritergirlDoesATwirl

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Posted 31 January 2013 - 02:41 PM

The dreaded valentines dance


In two days, my world will end. I’m not kidding. All because of two words- Valentine’s day. I’ll have to see all the couples that I know act all sappy and in love, rubbing it in everyone’s faces. I can’t really blame them,because if I had a boyfriend; I’d rub it in people’s faces too (not in a mean way.) Of course, even my best friend in the whole wide world has a boyfriend. His name’s Eric. So now I’m going to be alone and miserable all day long.
​I was thinking of that when my best friend Sara walked up to me in the hall at school during passing time.
​“V-day’s coming up, Allie!” She says, so excited that she was almost jumping up and down. I think she was bouncing, at least.
​“Thanks for rubbing it in,” I mumbled, shuffling my feet.
​“Come on! It’s Valentine’s day!” She said, “At least try to have some fun. Right now, you look like you’re dying. Just look in the mirror.”
​I looked in the mirror. She was absolutely right. My red hair was in snarls, and my eye makeup was smeared. I really did look like I was a zombie, or something.
​“That’s not the point.” I complain.
​“Then what is the point? That Matt didn’t ask you to the mid-winter dance?”
​“Bingo.” I said, looking at my feet. “And I really thought he was going to ask me too.”
​“You can always come with Eric and me, if you want.”
​“No thanks. I’d be the ultimate third wheel.” I said. Besides, it’s just another dance. Yeah, right. Like I can fool myself saying that. It’s like the dance. Until prom, this is the most important dance. And I just can’t go with Sara and Eric. I’d just feel like I was something like a burden to them, ruining their whole time .
​“Come on, why don’t you just ask Matt?” She said. Easy for her to say- She’s tall, has long, long black hair, and is almost the complete opposite of flat chested.
​“That’s easy for you to say, you’re gorgeous.” I explained.
​“The worst he can say is no.” She replied, and with a flip of her hair, she was gone.
​I slap my hand against my forehead. Oh, crap, I have band. With matt. Next hour.
​To prevent myself from skipping class, and running as far as I could away, I went into the bathroom. I took a paper towel, and a brush, and tried to make myself look semi-decent. Which is hard to do in the two minutes I had left of passing time, but I managed.
​I sprinted into the band room, and sat in the percussion section, just as the bell rang for class. Matt was three chairs away from me-not that I counted. (Ok, I did.)He was looking as cool as ever, talking to that friend, whose name’s Adam.
​We started playing song number four from our songbook. I don’t even know what it’s actually called, but if it’s actually called number four, that would be strange.
​So now I’m hitting the snare drum every few measures, but mostly daydreaming. Or more so, daynightmaring.
​I can imagine it now. I go up to Matt, and I say something along the lines of, “Will you go to the dance with me?” And he’ll say, “No.” or even worse, “Who are you again?” Ahh! I am so nervous.
​ I look over at him. He smiles at me, that amazing smile of his. Such an amazing smile, that I can’t imagine going to the mid-winter dance with anyone but him.
​We finish playing number four, and I totally screw up my drum solo. Oh, well. It’s not like anyone else can do the solo, anyway. I wheel the drum stand into the back room. I hear voices. Guy ones.
​“I’m going to ask Allie to the dance, is that ok?” one of them says.
​“Sure.” Another guy mumbles.
​“Do you think she’ll say yes?’
​I clear my throat. “Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you,” I say, hoping it’s Matt.
​The guy steps out of the shadows. It’s Matt’s friend Adam.
​“Cool! Do you want to meet at 6:00 tonight, outside of the gym?” He asks.
​“Sure.” I say, completely flabbergasted. That’s really the only word to describe it.
​6:00 comes too soon. I waited outside the gym, in a short aqua dress, and black converse- I need to be comfortable, right?
​Adam taps me on the shoulder. I spin around. Adam looks hot. And I mean, majorly hot. He’s wearing jeans with a blue dress shirt.
​“You look amazing.” He says, holding out his hand.
​“You too.” I reply. I grab his hand, and we go into the gym, that is decorated with hundreds of paper snowflakes. It looks magical.
​“Do you want to dance?” He asks me as a slow song starts to play.
​“Sure.”
He pulls me into his arms and we danced. It was the best thing ever.
Just then I realized that I liked Adam. I mean, I’d talked to him before like the most natural thing in the world, but I didn’t realize it until now.
“Allie, is everything ok?” He asked.
“Everything’s perfect.”
And in that one perfect moment, he leaned in, and I felt the soft, warm breath on my lips. Then, foe a brief moment, he kissed me. I couldn’t have imagined a better Valentine ’s Day.
I guess my world’s not going to end. In fact, I think it’s just beginning.

-Abby


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#15 Queen of the slayers

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Posted 31 January 2013 - 08:37 PM

Maybe

Around Valentine’s Day, it's easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist. What with the puke pink and red papier-mâché hearts covering every surface and the stupid stuffed animals holding them with cute sayings like – I wuv you beary much Valentine! It’s easy to forget that there are colors besides pink and all its varying shades. It’s easy to forget that there is candy that doesn’t come in heart shape boxes with tacky ribbons.
That’s Valentine’s Day for you, though. And nothing shoves it down a person’s throat more than the valentine dance.
I supposed every school has one – with weird low lighting and over edited top 40 pulsing through the speakers while the popular kids all grind together on the dance floor. Of course, there’s always the pathetically single – like me- who hang around the edges wishing the earth would open up and swallow them whole.
I’m not here to be bitter or anything. I mean, I would never willing come to something so stupid. If I wanted to listen to bad music and choke on tropical scented perfume I’d hang out in my sister’s room, thank you very much. But the camera hanging around my neck reminds me that I’m here for my job and as a photographer for the yearbook I’m expected to photograph school events.
“You could at least try to look like someone didn’t run over your cat, Jeanette.” A husky voice whispers in my ear, his breath tickling the back of my neck. I don't have to turn my head to know its Dave Sterling, the other photographer marooned here with me.
“You see I think that would be more enjoyable than watching the mating rituals of the rich and beautiful.” I reply, eyes scanning the crowd. Yup, anyone who is anyone is here, wrapped up tight in expensive dresses and old Sunday morning suits. I lift my camera and snap a picture, hoping that the next two hours will pass as fast as possible.
“You are a ray of sunshine in my grey life.” Dave shoots back. I can tell he’s rolling his eyes. He always rolls his eyes whenever I speak to him. I wish they’d at least assigned me someone who didn’t think I was just a dumb poser with a nice camera.
“I try.” I reply icily. Finally I turn to face him and find myself having to stifle a gasp. Let me tell you: the boy cleans up good. He’s in a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a black tie but my God does it do him a world of difference. I fully expected to find him in his usual torn up jeans and camo jacket but clearly he actually tried for this. The only things that were the same was his round glasses still sat on his crooked nose and his blonde hair was still as messy as ever. It was a nice contrast to his clothes. Heck, it all looked nice.
“I see you dressed up.” I blurt out, inwardly wincing at the stupidity of my comment.
His hazel eyes lazily slid over my as he took in my sparkly dark blue dress and heels. “As did you.”
I find myself blushing before I can think. I hope he doesn’t notice. I mean, he’s Dave for goodness sake. Just yesterday he was telling me that my photos looked like they were taken by a fifth grader with a camera phone and now here he is making me blush just because he looks good in a suit.
“I couldn’t very well get in here in jeans, you know that.” I have to break eye contact. Suddenly it’s just too overwhelming. Whoa, I need to step back. Maybe it’s all this Valentine’s stuff getting to me. “I’m going to go get some punch,” I say as an excuse to get as far away from his as possible.
But my eyes keep sliding back to him for the rest of the night. He talks to a bunch of people and even dances with a few girls. How had I not noticed how popular he was before? Or how good he looked from behind? Or the way he ruffled up his hair when he was nervous? Or the way- whoa, no. I shake my head to stop that train of thought.
I continue to take pictures, hoping no one will notice that the majority of them feature Dave in some way. Oh my god, this is getting ridiculous.
“Hey y’all, it’s time for the last dance of the night!” The DJ announces, causing me to jump and the mass of bodies on the dance floor to holler. “So grab a honey and hold them close, ‘cause this is going to be a slow one!”
People pair off like animals on an arc, circling away two by two. Gone were the days of the awkward sixth grade dances where people would stay an arm’s length away- it was all about how close you could press your body to someone else’s. I snap a picture or two, debating whether or not I should just head out early and chalk everything up to the Valentine crazies.
“You should dance with me.” Dave asks, suddenly right beside me.
“Oh, whoa, I didn’t notice you there.” I laugh nervously to cover up for my frantically beating heart. He’s so close I can feel the warmth radiating off his skin.
He reaches out his hand, waiting for mine. “You haven’t danced at all. Come on, just one won’t hurt.”
I eye him skeptically but every nerve in my body is screaming “fool, dance with him!” Cautiously, I take his hand. And it’s like being electrocuted; thousands of sparks shoot up my arm and throw my heart into overdrive. I’ve never felt like this before. And then we’re moving to the dance floor and his arms are on my waist and my head is on his shoulder and – oh wow, I really like it. He’s so warm. I can feel his heart beating through his shirt and it’s just as fast as mine. Suddenly, there’s no place I’d rather be than Dave Sterling’s arms and I don’t know what it means.
He leans down, his mouth on my ear and his breath hot on my skin, whispering “you look beautiful tonight, Jeanette.” And maybe, just maybe, this Valentine’s dance isn't as lame as I thought. And maybe he’s not as vile as I thought. And maybe everything’s going to change tonight.
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#16 Lear

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Posted 02 February 2013 - 01:06 PM

In two days, my world will end. Gavin would receive my Valentine's gift. Two days, and he would know of the many months I spent falling hopelessly in love with him.
As I walk down the hall, what I'm doing finally dawns on me. The severity of my actions, and the realization that my life would change were crawling up my back, and I was kind of scared. I would no longer be "that little geek" I would finally have a name, whether it was a good name or a bad one, only time could tell.
"Peyton!" Charlotte called my name as I thoughtlessly passed her, "What are you doing?"
"Oh, sorry. I'm a little lost in thought." It was true, I was lost. Just not exactly in thought. Charlotte followed my gaze towards Gavin.
"Oh, Peyton. I've supported your little fantasy for long enough. It's almost Valentine's Day! Why don't you just accept Nick's invitation?" She gave me a pity look. Charlotte had been supportive, but she hated seeing me miserable. As great of a friend she was, though, she didn't know about Gavin's Valentine.
"Charlotte, I can't. It wouldn't feel right, it's not fair to him." To be honest, I genuinely liked Nick. He was sweet, smart, funny, everything a good guy should be. But Nick isn't Gavin.
"P, it's not like you're going to marry him! It's just a little date. Please," She gave me the puppy-look, "for me?"
"Oh please not that card!" I hate when she pulls this. Make me seem like a bad friend, why don't ya? She continued giving me the puppy face. "Ugh! I'll think about it."
We continued onto our class: English. Mr. Davidson was already writing on the bored. The title was, "Poetry". Great! What do you want to bet he's going to make us write a Valentine's poem? Not that I’m a bad writer, I just don't like writing my feelings. They always seem corny and meaningless, when really they're deeper than the ocean. How do you put such immense feelings into words?
Snapping me out of my mind, the shrill bell rings, telling us to take our seats. Quickly, Charlotte and I grab our desks, and take out our pens.
"Love, romance, heartbreak. Those are the things that fuel poets. This week, we're going to be covering this section, so as to see what kind of stuff you will be sending your significant others. Maybe I'll even get to read some. Now the point...”
I drifted out of the lesson, too distracted by Gavin's presence. He wasn't even in our grade; he was Mr. Davidson's aid for the period. That was one thing we had in common, we both love English. I knew that’s why he picked Mr. Davidson's class. Uncommonly, Gavin stood up and approached my seat. Crap! I hadn't been staring had I?
"You should be paying attention, little one. Never know how many poems you’re going to have to write for all those boys whose hearts you'll break." He whispered this then went back to his seat. Whoa! What the hell just happened?
A neatly folded note flipped onto my desk. Still slightly star struck, I gingerly unfolded the note.
What was that????- C
Quickly, I wrote back, I don't know!!!-P
Well tell me what exactly he said!!-C
Dutifully writing his exact words, I sent the note back. My mind was reeling. Was he flirting with me? Was he patronizing me with the "Little One" comment? Was that a nickname? Why did he come all the way over here?
The period dragged on until finally the bell rang.
"See ya round, little one." Gavin nodded towards me. My heart pitter-pattered as he winked at me. Had hell just froze over or was he flirting with me?
Charlotte's eyes went wide as she watched our exchange. "OK what was that?" she finally blurted out as we made our way towards History.
"I think hell just froze over! What other explanation is there?" We both giggled. Then the worst thought imaginable stopped me dead in my tracks.
Had Gavin gotten his gift early?
“Peyton. Peyton! What is wrong with you?” Charlotte was nudging me and nudging me but I wouldn’t budge. A nightmare was setting in, and I wasn’t waking up. How could this happen? His gift wasn’t to arrive for two more days! What else could’ve happened?
“Peyton? Are you going to clue me in on your little episode, or am I going to be left cliffhanging?” Guessing my eyes were wide with fear, I turned and looked at her. She seemed to get the idea that something was horribly wrong.
Quickly filling her in on what I’d done, her face went through an array of emotions. Anger, from not telling her: humorous from the present: and lastly; fear. She knew if this present came early I would be utterly humiliated.
“Well, what are we going to do?” Charlotte asked, like it really was that simple.
“What can we do?”
Heading off towards History, we looked at everyone. Either no one knew anything, or everyone had a really good poker face. Too bad this game wasn’t fun.
Sitting through History was torture. Not knowing what had happened only 30 minutes ago was torture. All in all my whole day was torture.
“Hey Peyton! Got a Valentine this year?” Oh no! The first of the snippy remarks would come from the Queen Bee. Ugh! I’d had so much hope that maybe all this was just a nightmare. But no Jennifer was about to make this all too real.
“If you don’t honey I’m sure Gavin would be all too willing to oblige. He’s got such a big crush on you.” Blushing furiously, I stormed off. Wrenching my locker open, a storm of candy flowed out like a waterfall, and neatly folded pink note fell on the floor beside it.
Will you be my Valentine little one? -G
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#17 Lear

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Posted 02 February 2013 - 01:11 PM

An Unexpected Gift

In two days, my world will end. Gavin would receive my Valentine's gift. Two days, and he would know of the many months I spent falling hopelessly in love with him.
As I walk down the hall, what I'm doing finally dawns on me. The severity of my actions, and the realization that my life would change, were crawling up my back, and I was kind of scared. I would no longer be "that little geek" I would finally have a name, whether it was a good name or a bad one, only time could tell.
"Peyton!" Charlotte called my name as I thoughtlessly passed her, "What are you doing?"
"Oh, sorry. I'm a little lost in thought." It was true, I was lost. Just not exactly in thought. Charlotte followed my gaze towards Gavin.
"Oh, Peyton. I've supported your little fantasy for long enough. It's almost Valentine's Day! Why don't you just accept Nick's invitation?" She gave me a pity look. Charlotte had been supportive, but she hated seeing me miserable. As great of a friend she was, though, she didn't know about Gavin's Valentine.
"Charlotte, I can't. It wouldn't feel right, it's not fair to him." To be honest, I genuinely liked Nick. He was sweet, smart, funny, everything a good guy should be. But Nick isn't Gavin.
"P, it's not like you're going to marry him! It's just a little date. Please," She gave me the puppy-look, "for me?"
"Oh please not that card!" I hate when she pulls this. Make me seem like a bad friend, why don't ya? She continued giving me the puppy face. "Ugh! I'll think about it."
We continued onto our class: English. Mr. Davidson was already writing on the bored. The title was, "Poetry". Great! What do you want to bet he's going to make us write a Valentine's poem? Not that I’m a bad writer, I just don't like writing my feelings. They always seem corny and meaningless, when really they're deeper than the ocean. How do you put such immense feelings into words?
Snapping me out of my mind, the shrill bell rings, telling us to take our seats. Quickly, Charlotte and I grab our desks, and take out our pens.
"Love, romance, heartbreak. Those are the things that fuel poets. This week, we're going to be covering this section, so as to see what kind of stuff you will be sending your significant others. Maybe I'll even get to read some. Now the point...”
I drifted out of the lesson, too distracted by Gavin's presence. He wasn't even in our grade; he was Mr. Davidson's aid for the period. That was one thing we had in common, we both love English. I knew that’s why he picked Mr. Davidson's class. Uncommonly, Gavin stood up and approached my seat. Crap! I hadn't been staring had I?
"You should be paying attention, little one. Never know how many poems you’re going to have to write for all those boys whose hearts you'll break." He whispered this then went back to his seat. Whoa! What the hell just happened?
A neatly folded note flipped onto my desk. Still slightly star struck, I gingerly unfolded the note.
What was that????- C
Quickly, I wrote back, I don't know!!!-P
Well tell me what exactly he said!!-C
Dutifully writing his exact words, I sent the note back. My mind was reeling. Was he flirting with me? Was he patronizing me with the "Little One" comment? Was that a nickname? Why did he come all the way over here?
The period dragged on until finally the bell rang.
"See ya round, little one." Gavin nodded towards me. My heart pitter-pattered as he winked at me. Had hell just froze over or was he flirting with me?
Charlotte's eyes went wide as she watched our exchange. "OK what was that?" she finally blurted out as we made our way towards History.
"I think hell just froze over! What other explanation is there?" We both giggled. Then the worst thought imaginable stopped me dead in my tracks.
Had Gavin gotten his gift early?
“Peyton. Peyton! What is wrong with you?” Charlotte was nudging me and nudging me but I wouldn’t budge. A nightmare was setting in, and I wasn’t waking up. How could this happen? His gift wasn’t to arrive for two more days! What else could’ve happened?
“Peyton? Are you going to clue me in on your little episode, or am I going to be left cliffhanging?” Guessing my eyes were wide with fear, I turned and looked at her. She seemed to get the idea that something was horribly wrong.
Quickly filling her in on what I’d done, her face went through an array of emotions. Anger, from not telling her: humorous from the present: and lastly; fear. She knew if this present came early I would be utterly humiliated.
“Well, what are we going to do?” Charlotte asked, like it really was that simple.
“What can we do?”
Heading off towards History, we looked at everyone. Either no one knew anything, or everyone had a really good poker face. Too bad this game wasn’t fun.
Sitting through History was torture. Not knowing what had happened only 30 minutes ago was torture. All in all my whole day was torture.
“Hey Peyton! Got a Valentine this year?” Oh no! The first of the snippy remarks would come from the Queen Bee. Ugh! I’d had so much hope that maybe all this was just a nightmare. But no Jennifer was about to make this dream all too real.
“If you don’t honey I’m sure Gavin would be all too willing to oblige. He’s got such a big crush on you.” Blushing furiously, I stormed off. Wrenching my locker open, a storm of candy flowed out like a waterfall, and neatly folded pink note fell on the floor beside it.
Will you be my Valentine little one? -G

Edited by Lear, 02 February 2013 - 01:12 PM.

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#18 RaeAusten12

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Posted 03 February 2013 - 04:04 PM

Video Games

In two days, my world will end.
Not literally, of course. The Mayans really messed up with that 2012 thing. No, I mean metaphorically. Because in two days, on February 14th, he's going to ask her out. And the worst part is that I helped him.
"Hey there." He said, plopping down on the couch beside me, having just let himself into my house.
I was concentrating, trying to write an essay for English about Dante's Inferno. Apparently, circle number five is having your best friend and guy of your dreams ask his crush out. On Valentine's Day. But anyways.
"Bookworm, you haven't looked up." He said. "What's this? English? Yikes. Looks like hell." He smiled at his own joke, putting his feet up on the coffee table, then taking them off again as I shot him a reproachful look.
"Hurry up," He told me, peering over my shoulder again as I scribbled away. "I have something I want your help with."
I sighed, putting my pen down and giving him my full attention. Bad idea. Looking at him all at once, when he was this close to me, made my head swim.
"For the last time, you need to finish that Physics project. I've already done half the calculations for it."
"That's not it, and you didn't do half, you did, like, a quarter. But thank you." He replied sweetly as I shot him another look.
Once the study partner, always the study partner.
"What is it then?" I asked, stretching out my hand. I hadn't meant to grip the pen that tightly.
"Well, um, actually, I kind of want help with this girl."
My heart dropped. Because, really, what's worse than talking to your crush about another girl? Dante's inferno would look like Disney World, compared to that.
"Oh."
He ran a hand through his hair. I was a little happy to see that he looked uncomfortable too. "She's super cool, but it's kind of intimidating to ask her out. You know, on a date."
I nodded, biting my lip.
"Have you talked to her before?"
"Of course! It's just, it's always been as friends. And since you're someone who's really smart and stuff, well, I wanted some pointers. What should I do?"
Having almost no experience in that particular area of life, I really didn't know. But even with my heart taking a beating with every word he spoke, I still wanted to help. Because that's what he wanted. Stupid inferno.
"Just talk to her, she's probably less intimidating than you think."
And she'd be lucky to go on a date with you. I added, to myself, of course.
"It's not that she's intimidating. It's asking her out that's kind of terrifying." His brown eyes were looking behind me now, at the open window, probably watching a bird or squirrel outside.
Who is it?
"What does she like?" I asked instead.
He scrunched his eyebrows together. "I don't know. Whatever girls like."
"Be more specific. Like has she mentioned liking a certain book, restaurant or flower?"
"Hmm, I guess she likes flowers."
"I mean the type. Does she like roses, or daisies, or orchids..." I trailed off, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear.
"What do you like?"
"Me? A mix, I suppose. The color matters more to me. But different girls have different tastes."
He waved me off, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. "You two are similar. What did you say again, a mix?"
I answered yes.
"Alright, and what was the other thing, a book? How is a book supposed to help me ask her out?"
I drummed my fingers on my paper.
"It's a conversation starter. Movies work too."
"Alrighty then, favorite movie?"
"WALL-E, but I highly doubt--"
He cut me off again, already typing the title into his phone.
"You mentioned something about a restaurant. What about that?" He asked.
"Chris, look, you can't assume that just because one girl likes something, that every other one is also going to like that same thing. It doesn't work that way."
"Sure it does. And you guys have a lot in common."
Of course we do.
"I like the Italian place in that plaza next to the mall. It's a good place for a date, if she says yes."
He finished the entry with the latest bit of information.
"You're the best." He told me, giving my hand a squeeze and settling back on the couch.
I smiled, stretching out my hand again, ignoring the tingling sensation his touch had left on my skin.
***
And now here we are, on Valentine's Day. Chris is sitting beside me, much like before, and we're playing some theft video game he brought over.
"Crap, the SWAT team is back." I tell him.
"If you would stop stealing police cars, then they wouldn't chase you."
I shove him over, causing his make believe driver to crash into a trash can, his car bursting into flames.
"And with that," He says, putting the controller down. "I think I'll go."
My heart drops. He's going to go ask her. I nearly forgot.
"Call me and tell me how it goes." I say as he grabs his things. I hear the door shut behind him, stopping the game. It's no fun without him.
After about thirty minutes, I hear a knock on the door.
It's too early for Chris to have come back and my parents should still be at work.
I look through the peephole, surprised to see the familiar dark hair and brown eyes.
He must have forgotten something.
I open the door, about to ask him what he's doing here, but stop as I gaze at his hands.
He has a sheepish smile on his face, holding the bouquet of different flowers in one hand, and a bag in the other.
"Chris, what's wrong, why haven't you gone to ask out that girl?" I say, looking at his face.
"I'm about to." He says.
He takes out WALL-E from the inside of the bag.
"If you're not doing anything today, I have a movie we could watch together and some Italian food to eat."
I gape at him as he shows me the steaming containers in the bag.
"If you'd like to be my date for Valentine's Day." He finishes.
I reach out and take the flowers, hardly believing it. My heart feels like it's about to explode from joy.
He's still smiling sheepishly at me.
I take only a moment to soak in what's happening before answering:
"Only if you play a couple more rounds of that video game with me."
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#19 Loulou15

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Posted 03 February 2013 - 04:16 PM

A Love To Measure By
By Louise Roberts

Around Valentine’s Day, it's easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist. So it also makes it easy to forget that, like the bones in a fist, it can be broken and that like a fist it can knock someone off their feet. I’ve had both experiences and once again, as I see that my kind elderly mother has put an annoying thick red ring around February 14th, I am reminded that I will die, like her, a spinster.
“What happened to that Harry guy?” Her shrill voice croaked out behind me and I spilled my orange juice, I was too locked in confrontation with the calendar on the fridge.
“Jesus mom, think you could cough or something when you come in the room?” I brushed down the orange splatters on my white dress as the corners of her wrinkled lips curled up. “What are you so smug about?”
“Did you jump because I spoke or because I said his name?” She raised her eyebrow knowingly. Was I that pathetically predictable?
“Because you spoke.” I said indignantly, putting the tea towel down and pouring myself some more orange juice.
“So, are you going to tell me or what?” She raised her voice over her deafness, forgetting that my hearing was somewhat clearer. She sat down at the kitchen island and eyed me suspiciously. She was worried for me; it was a bittersweet reaction for my lengthy singledom. I hit the big three O last year, God that was a depressing birthday. It consisted of me and my other single friends drunkenly sobbing in to each other’s chests before becoming strangely empowered and telling one another that we were too good for men anyway. That was followed the next day by a dinner with my sensible married friends and their patronising words. It was always an unpleasant experience, three happily married women, their husbands, and me, the loner. They always tried to desperately reassure me that I would meet ‘the one’. They were always condescending with me, as if I were some lovesick teen or possibly as the middle aged mess I am, and that without this mythical being known as ‘the one’ I would surely be unhappy forever. I’m pathetic. I can’t believe I let the love of a man dictate my life. I can’t believe I measure my happiness against the love of a man, as if he were a yardstick in my life, in which barely anything else compares. That’s a fictitious man, I must painfully add. The last man I truly loved managed to break my heart in to such small pieces that I have never found them all and fixed my heart and therefore, he is no longer my yardstick. In fact, he dramatically shortened the yardstick that I consider love to be. It’s karma I guess, for me breaking the heart of my childhood sweetheart. I can picture him now, his sad weepy eyes all big and puppy like behind his thick rimmed glasses. Ah, young love, now nothing quite compares to that. If only I was that doey eyed teen who thought love was so simple and carefree. Too many tears have been shed for the blinkers of teenage naivety to come back on though.
“So?” My mother prompted again, as I drifted off into my thoughts. I looked at her, I felt as if my hazel eyes were bloodshot, too much tequila. Time to grow up Adriana. Great, now I’ve started chastising my drinking habits. I gulped back my orange juice that satisfyingly cleared out my disgusting dry mouth.
“What?” I asked coyly. “Nothing to tell.”
“Well are you still seeing him”? She asked eagerly.
“No.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” She sighed.
“I just don’t feel that, you know, umph with him okay? Can we just drop it.” I headed to the fridge. “Want some breakfast?”
“I want you to settle down kid.” She sighed and I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not even that important mom. I can be happy without a man.”
“When your father died, God rest his soul, it was the worse day of my life.” I winced at her talking about my dad. “He was a good man, kept me safe and happy for fifty-two years. Life wouldn’t have been the same without him. There is nothing more lonely than being without him.”
“Come on mom, you’ve got me.” I smiled, but her face quivered with tears beneath the surface.
“I don’t want you to be alone Adriana. Find a good man to keep you safe. You know, for when I’m gone.” Her voice wobbled, I slammed the fridge door.
“Can we not do this now?” I begged.
“Will you do something for me?” She asked, a secret thought behind her eyes.
“Sure.” I said in resignation.
“Call that nice boy Harry up, for me.”
“I didn’t know you fancied him mom.” I joked.
“Don’t get smart with me madam.” She laughed. “Just call him, I’d sleep a lot easier at night.”
“Fine. I’ll give him another chance.” I sat back down and smiled.
“Could you call, now?” She smiled her winning smile. I rolled my eyes and took my mobile out of my pocket. I scrolled through for his number and hit dial. It rang three times as I looked at mom’s beaming face.
“Hello.” He answered.
“Hi, Harry it’s me. Adriana.”
“Hey, Adriana, I thought you were blowing me off.” I heard him laugh nervously. He was right.
“Of course not.” I lied. “Thought we could go out sometime soon.”
“Sure, what you doing Valentine’s day?” He asked with boyish anxiety thick in his voice. I felt my fist heart punch into my chest angrily, repeatedly, painfully. Please, not Valentine’s Day!
“Nothing.” That was the truth at least.
“So, want to do something with me?”
“On Valentine’s day?” I cringed, but my mother’s eyes were wide with hope and I couldn’t back down now. “Sounds great.”
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#20 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 01:08 AM

Just another Valentine's...

I hate Valentine's. I just can't understand the point of it - if you love someone, shouldn't you show it every day of the year? And wouldn't it be nicer to randomly surprise your loved one with a postcard, a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of their favourite flowers, when they less expect it? Besides, for those who are gathering the courage to confess, isn't it kind of sad to use Valentine's day as an excuse? Is that really the way you want to confess to the supposed love of your life? The 14th of February is no more than a comercial day. What's more, it's a day of great expectations, and with great expectations comes great disappointment. When I was younger I used to like Valentine's, even if I didn't have a boyfriend I thought it to be cute, and always hoped to be surprised on this day, eventually. But, with time, I just grew tired of it.

And now there I was, 20 years old, 3rd year in med school, leaving home by myself on Valentine's Day and already spotting a store's window full of hearts and stickers saying "Happy Valentine's". It was going to be a long, long day.

As I arrived to my first class, the professor said:

-"Good morning. Due to the impossibility of professor Kingley to be here today, this morning's lecture on tuberculosis will be postponed. Today we'll talk about heart failure."- she then giggled, probably remembering what day it was -"Let's hope we won't have any young hearts to fix after today!"

Half the class laughed with her (yes, she was one of those persons who laughed at their own jokes), the other half just stared blankly at her or, such as in my case, rolled their eyes. If after making my way to the university hospital I'd thought I would scream if I saw any more hearts, having a lecture on this theme was nearly causing my heart to, well, fail. Even though I'm pretty sure that's not a common cause of heart failure.

After finally accepting the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I reached for my dark pink pencilcase to get a pen and start taking notes. However, as soon as I unzipped it, there was something unexpected on the top of my multiple multi-colour underlying pens, spare pencils and spare pens - a tiny white envelope.

For a moment I forgot about the class and hurried to open it, wondering what it might be -my jaw (actually, I should be saying mandible, but who cares) actually dropped when I read the equally tiny card inside it: "I love you", It said. Just like that.

Without any warning, my heart skiped a beat. I turned the card over and there was nothing else writen on it. I then carefully inspected the envelope, looking for any signs of whoever had left it there, but Found nothing. "What the hell..." - I thought. How could anyone just leave a note like that, without signing it?

For a moment, I forgot how much I hated Valentine's, but the frustration of not knowing the identity of the sender quickly made me remember those not so nice feelings towards this day. What's more, how could anyone put a note inside my pencilcase which, besides being zipped, was also inside my bag? It's not as if I usually left them unattended... However, I'd had a lab class the day before, in which we had to leave all our personal items in a comunitary locker... Which meant whoever had put it there, had to have done it the day before. "Great, that helps a lot...Not."

I didn't have any potencial boyfriends among my group of friends, which made me even more clueless.

As soon as I noticed, the lecture on heart failure had ended and another one was starting, but I really couldn't get my mind of the note.

However, not long after the professor started speaking, I noticed the janitor encharged of the auditorium rushing in, and murmuring something inaudible at his ear. He smiled a little, before turning to us and saying, gravely:

-"Although this is not of my aproval, it is Valentine's day and, EXCEPTIONALY, I will allow one of the students to recieve a delivery. Let this not be an example. No more exceptions will be allowed, this is not an high school class."

The janitor then quickly left and came back in with a beautiful bouquet of pink tulips, calling for someone's name - a name I didn't even bother to hear since they certainly weren't for me. After thinking how I should buy myself some tulips sometime soon, being those my favourite flowers, I turned to my notebook to write down some of the slideshow's key words. In moments like these, I always thought it was rude to stare at whoever was getting flowers, specially 'cause I considered it quite an embarassing moment. When I thought I'd already given the "lucky girl" plenty of time to recieve her flowers, I lifted my head to look around and see who it had been. However, I sensed something was wrong when every face nearby was staring at me.

-"Well Miss, if you don't want the flowers..." -the janitor said, looking at me.

I looked behind, thinking he was talking to someone behind me, but behind me were only more of my coleagues, also staring at me.

-"Excuse me... What?" - I managed to ask, as politely as I could..

-"Aren't you Miss Charlotte Richmund?"- the janitor asked.

-"Yes..?" -I anwered, uncertain if it was the correct answer to that question.

-"Then these are for you!"- he concluded.

By this time, the professor was getting impatient and intervened:

-"Just take them, we've already lost too much time with this..."

And that's when I realized what was actually happening. I apologized, stood up, took the beautiful pink tulips and returned to my seat, keeping my eyes on the ground. I left the tulips on the spare seat beside me and didn't raise my head from my notebook for the following 30minutes.
When I finally managed to calm down, I shyly inspected the tulips next to me, still without raising my head and trying to keep low profile. They were indeed beautiful. That's when I noticed a tiny card placed on the bouquet, very similar to the one I'd found before. My heart skiped another beat as I reached for it, opening it slowly: "I'll be waiting for you outside, when the lecture ends."

As I read such words I nearly died. All these mixed emotions were felling my brain (nop, not my heart!) - embarassment, confusion, expectation and, I must confess, excitement. I looked at my watch and had another near-to-death experience: there were only 10 minutes left for the lecture to end.

As soon as I noticed, the professor was giving us permission to leave and I regained consciousness of myself - I looked at my watch again, my 10 minutes had passed and I honestly couldn't remember what I'd been doing or thinking since I'd last checked the time. My heart beated faster and faster as I stood up and approached the auditorium's door. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and left.

No-one. There was no-one there looking at me, no one holding some tacky Valentine's sign, nothing... I sighed, half disapointed, half relieved. As I finally took a step forward to leave, I heard a male voice behind me:

-"Char... You forgot these!"

I turned to find my tulips in front of me. With everything that had happened, I'd forgotten the tulips inside the auditorium.

-"Than..." - I started, noticing for the first time the person holding them. His face looked familiar -he was a tall, golden haired boy, with beautiful deep blue eyes. I felt so astonished I nearly didn't recognize him at first. The fact he'd cut his head since the last time I'd seen him probably helped. It was William, one of my coleagues, one I'd particularly grown fond about since we'd casually started talking, in September. I didn't get to see him more than twice a week though, during a lab class, since he didn't usually hang out with my group of friends.

-"You cut your hair..." - Was all I could say at fisrt, while taking the tulips -"I mean, thanks..."

He noticed my confused look and started, jokingly:

-"I saw you leave without the tulips, I'm pretty sure whoever gave them to you would be pretty disappointed. So, who's mistery man?" -he asked, with a playful wink.

-"Oh..." - I said, realizing he was just as clueless as I was on the matter. -"I don't know, some idiot trying to make fun of me" - I continued, as I started to walk. He followed me, still smiling. A really sweet and honest smile, I thought.

-"Gee... Don't be so harsh on the poor guy." - he joked, as we turned around the corner to a quieter corridor -"Who says it's not for real?"

-"Well, first of all, that would be very unlikely. Second of all, he said he'd be waiting outside the auditorium, and he didn't show up. Do I need to say more?" - I concluded, a bit, annoyed, felling as if I'd been stood up.
I stopped to face Will and noticed how deep and sweet his blue eyes really were, how good his new hairstyle looked on him,... and, basically, how he was looking at me. In a pretty intense way, that is.

-"Ah..." - I started, felling a bit unconfortable with his silence.

Will then reached my left cheek with his hand, and said, with the sweetest voice I'd ever heard:

-"Maybe he just wanted you to have your tulips..."

I could feel my heart beating faster as I lost myself in those words, in those enchanting blue eyes... I also came to find myself staring at his lips, and forced myself to look away. I felt William's hand slip from my cheek to the back of my neck and looked back at him, just in time to watch his face slowly approach mine. I stared at his eyes once more, as he got even closer, letting his lips touch my ear and wispering softly:

-"I love you so much..."

My breathing was getting harder, my heart beating faster,... Will kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes. I knew I was lost as he kept on slowly kissing my cheek, getting closer and closer to my lips. I felt his nose touch mine:

-"Can I kiss you?" -he asked, causing me to open my eyes and look into those deep blue eyes once more. I just smiled.

Maybe Valentine's wasn't so bad after all, I thought. But this thought didn't go further than that, 'cause that's when his lips touched mine, softly and gently, making me wish to kiss him more and more and thinking of nothing else.



____________________________________
I hope you liked it ;) Have a very nice Valentine's! :)
With love,
Marta
  • 0

#21 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 01:09 AM

Just another Valentine's...

I hate Valentine's. I just can't understand the point of it - if you love someone, shouldn't you show it every day of the year? And wouldn't it be nicer to randomly surprise your loved one with a postcard, a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of their favourite flowers, when they less expect it? Besides, for those who are gathering the courage to confess, isn't it kind of sad to use Valentine's day as an excuse? Is that really the way you want to confess to the supposed love of your life? The 14th of February is no more than a comercial day. What's more, it's a day of great expectations, and with great expectations comes great disappointment. When I was younger I used to like Valentine's, even if I didn't have a boyfriend I thought it to be cute, and always hoped to be surprised on this day, eventually. But, with time, I just grew tired of it.

And now there I was, 20 years old, 3rd year in med school, leaving home by myself on Valentine's Day and already spotting a store's window full of hearts and stickers saying "Happy Valentine's". It was going to be a long, long day.

As I arrived to my first class, the professor said:

-"Good morning. Due to the impossibility of professor Kingley to be here today, this morning's lecture on tuberculosis will be postponed. Today we'll talk about heart failure."- she then giggled, probably remembering what day it was -"Let's hope we won't have any young hearts to fix after today!"

Half the class laughed with her (yes, she was one of those persons who laughed at their own jokes), the other half just stared blankly at her or, such as in my case, rolled their eyes. If after making my way to the university hospital I'd thought I would scream if I saw any more hearts, having a lecture on this theme was nearly causing my heart to, well, fail. Even though I'm pretty sure that's not a common cause of heart failure.

After finally accepting the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I reached for my dark pink pencilcase to get a pen and start taking notes. However, as soon as I unzipped it, there was something unexpected on the top of my multiple multi-colour underlying pens, spare pencils and spare pens - a tiny white envelope.

For a moment I forgot about the class and hurried to open it, wondering what it might be -my jaw (actually, I should be saying mandible, but who cares) actually dropped when I read the equally tiny card inside it: "I love you", It said. Just like that.

Without any warning, my heart skiped a beat. I turned the card over and there was nothing else writen on it. I then carefully inspected the envelope, looking for any signs of whoever had left it there, but Found nothing. "What the hell..." - I thought. How could anyone just leave a note like that, without signing it?

For a moment, I forgot how much I hated Valentine's, but the frustration of not knowing the identity of the sender quickly made me remember those not so nice feelings towards this day. What's more, how could anyone put a note inside my pencilcase which, besides being zipped, was also inside my bag? It's not as if I usually left them unattended... However, I'd had a lab class the day before, in which we had to leave all our personal items in a comunitary locker... Which meant whoever had put it there, had to have done it the day before. "Great, that helps a lot...Not."

I didn't have any potencial boyfriends among my group of friends, which made me even more clueless.

As soon as I noticed, the lecture on heart failure had ended and another one was starting, but I really couldn't get my mind of the note.

However, not long after the professor started speaking, I noticed the janitor encharged of the auditorium rushing in, and murmuring something inaudible at his ear. He smiled a little, before turning to us and saying, gravely:

-"Although this is not of my aproval, it is Valentine's day and, EXCEPTIONALY, I will allow one of the students to recieve a delivery. Let this not be an example. No more exceptions will be allowed, this is not an high school class."

The janitor then quickly left and came back in with a beautiful bouquet of pink tulips, calling for someone's name - a name I didn't even bother to hear since they certainly weren't for me. After thinking how I should buy myself some tulips sometime soon, being those my favourite flowers, I turned to my notebook to write down some of the slideshow's key words. In moments like these, I always thought it was rude to stare at whoever was getting flowers, specially 'cause I considered it quite an embarassing moment. When I thought I'd already given the "lucky girl" plenty of time to recieve her flowers, I lifted my head to look around and see who it had been. However, I sensed something was wrong when every face nearby was staring at me.

-"Well Miss, if you don't want the flowers..." -the janitor said, looking at me.

I looked behind, thinking he was talking to someone behind me, but behind me were only more of my coleagues, also staring at me.

-"Excuse me... What?" - I managed to ask, as politely as I could..

-"Aren't you Miss Charlotte Richmund?"- the janitor asked.

-"Yes..?" -I anwered, uncertain if it was the correct answer to that question.

-"Then these are for you!"- he concluded.

By this time, the professor was getting impatient and intervened:

-"Just take them, we've already lost too much time with this..."

And that's when I realized what was actually happening. I apologized, stood up, took the beautiful pink tulips and returned to my seat, keeping my eyes on the ground. I left the tulips on the spare seat beside me and didn't raise my head from my notebook for the following 30minutes.
When I finally managed to calm down, I shyly inspected the tulips next to me, still without raising my head and trying to keep low profile. They were indeed beautiful. That's when I noticed a tiny card placed on the bouquet, very similar to the one I'd found before. My heart skiped another beat as I reached for it, opening it slowly: "I'll be waiting for you outside, when the lecture ends."

As I read such words I nearly died. All these mixed emotions were felling my brain (nop, not my heart!) - embarassment, confusion, expectation and, I must confess, excitement. I looked at my watch and had another near-to-death experience: there were only 10 minutes left for the lecture to end.

As soon as I noticed, the professor was giving us permission to leave and I regained consciousness of myself - I looked at my watch again, my 10 minutes had passed and I honestly couldn't remember what I'd been doing or thinking since I'd last checked the time. My heart beated faster and faster as I stood up and approached the auditorium's door. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and left.

No-one. There was no-one there looking at me, no one holding some tacky Valentine's sign, nothing... I sighed, half disapointed, half relieved. As I finally took a step forward to leave, I heard a male voice behind me:

-"Char... You forgot these!"

I turned to find my tulips in front of me. With everything that had happened, I'd forgotten the tulips inside the auditorium.

-"Than..." - I started, noticing for the first time the person holding them. His face looked familiar -he was a tall, golden haired boy, with beautiful deep blue eyes. I felt so astonished I nearly didn't recognize him at first. The fact he'd cut his head since the last time I'd seen him probably helped. It was William, one of my coleagues, one I'd particularly grown fond about since we'd casually started talking, in September. I didn't get to see him more than twice a week though, during a lab class, since he didn't usually hang out with my group of friends.

-"You cut your hair..." - Was all I could say at fisrt, while taking the tulips -"I mean, thanks..."

He noticed my confused look and started, jokingly:

-"I saw you leave without the tulips, I'm pretty sure whoever gave them to you would be pretty disappointed. So, who's mistery man?" -he asked, with a playful wink.

-"Oh..." - I said, realizing he was just as clueless as I was on the matter. -"I don't know, some idiot trying to make fun of me" - I continued, as I started to walk. He followed me, still smiling. A really sweet and honest smile, I thought.

-"Gee... Don't be so harsh on the poor guy." - he joked, as we turned around the corner to a quieter corridor -"Who says it's not for real?"

-"Well, first of all, that would be very unlikely. Second of all, he said he'd be waiting outside the auditorium, and he didn't show up. Do I need to say more?" - I concluded, a bit, annoyed, felling as if I'd been stood up.
I stopped to face Will and noticed how deep and sweet his blue eyes really were, how good his new hairstyle looked on him,... and, basically, how he was looking at me. In a pretty intense way, that is.

-"Ah..." - I started, felling a bit unconfortable with his silence.

Will then reached my left cheek with his hand, and said, with the sweetest voice I'd ever heard:

-"Maybe he just wanted you to have your tulips..."

I could feel my heart beating faster as I lost myself in those words, in those enchanting blue eyes... I also came to find myself staring at his lips, and forced myself to look away. I felt William's hand slip from my cheek to the back of my neck and looked back at him, just in time to watch his face slowly approach mine. I stared at his eyes once more, as he got even closer, letting his lips touch my ear and wispering softly:

-"I love you so much..."

My breathing was getting harder, my heart beating faster,... Will kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes. I knew I was lost as he kept on slowly kissing my cheek, getting closer and closer to my lips. I felt his nose touch mine:

-"Can I kiss you?" -he asked, causing me to open my eyes and look into those deep blue eyes once more. I just smiled.

Maybe Valentine's wasn't so bad after all, I thought. But this thought didn't go further than that, 'cause that's when his lips touched mine, softly and gently, making me wish to kiss him more and more and thinking of nothing else.



____________________________________
I hope you liked it ;) Have a very nice Valentine's! :)
With love,
Marta
  • 0

#22 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 01:39 AM

Just another Valentine's...

I hate Valentine's. I just can't understand the point of it - if you love someone, shouldn't you show it every day of the year? And wouldn't it be nicer to randomly surprise your loved one with a postcard, a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of their favourite flowers, when they less expect it? Besides, for those who are gathering the courage to confess, isn't it kind of sad to use Valentine's day as an excuse? Is that really the way you want to confess to the supposed love of your life? The 14th of February is no more than a comercial day. What's more, it's a day of great expectations, and with great expectations comes great disappointment. When I was younger I used to like Valentine's, even if I didn't have a boyfriend I thought it to be cute, and always hoped to be surprised on this day, eventually. But, with time, I just grew tired of it.

And now there I was, 20 years old, 3rd year in med school, leaving home by myself on Valentine's Day and already spotting a store's window full of hearts and stickers saying "Happy Valentine's". It was going to be a long, long day.

As I arrived to my first class, the professor said:

-"Good morning. Due to the impossibility of professor Kingley to be here today, this morning's lecture on tuberculosis will be postponed. Today we'll talk about heart failure."- she then giggled, probably remembering what day it was -"Let's hope we won't have any young hearts to fix after today!"

Half the class laughed with her (yes, she was one of those persons who laughed at their own jokes), the other half just stared blankly at her or, such as in my case, rolled their eyes. If after making my way to the university hospital I'd thought I would scream if I saw any more hearts, having a lecture on this theme was nearly causing my heart to, well, fail. Even though I'm pretty sure that's not a common cause of heart failure.

After finally accepting the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I reached for my dark pink pencilcase to get a pen and start taking notes. However, as soon as I unzipped it, there was something unexpected on the top of my multiple multi-colour underlying pens, spare pencils and spare pens - a tiny white envelope.

For a moment I forgot about the class and hurried to open it, wondering what it might be -my jaw (actually, I should be saying mandible, but who cares) actually dropped when I read the equally tiny card inside it: "I love you", It said. Just like that.

Without any warning, my heart skiped a beat. I turned the card over and there was nothing else writen on it. I then carefully inspected the envelope, looking for any signs of whoever had left it there, but Found nothing. "What the hell..." - I thought. How could anyone just leave a note like that, without signing it?

For a moment, I forgot how much I hated Valentine's, but the frustration of not knowing the identity of the sender quickly made me remember those not so nice feelings towards this day. What's more, how could anyone put a note inside my pencilcase which, besides being zipped, was also inside my bag? It's not as if I usually left them unattended... However, I'd had a lab class the day before, in which we had to leave all our personal items in a comunitary locker... Which meant whoever had put it there, had to have done it the day before. "Great, that helps a lot...Not."

I didn't have any potencial boyfriends among my group of friends, which made me even more clueless.

As soon as I noticed, the lecture on heart failure had ended and another one was starting, but I really couldn't get my mind of the note.

However, not long after the professor started speaking, I noticed the janitor encharged of the auditorium rushing in, and murmuring something inaudible at his ear. He smiled a little, before turning to us and saying, gravely:

-"Although this is not of my aproval, it is Valentine's day and, EXCEPTIONALY, I will allow one of the students to recieve a delivery. Let this not be an example. No more exceptions will be allowed, this is not an high school class."

The janitor then quickly left and came back in with a beautiful bouquet of pink tulips, calling for someone's name - a name I didn't even bother to hear since they certainly weren't for me. After thinking how I should buy myself some tulips sometime soon, being those my favourite flowers, I turned to my notebook to write down some of the slideshow's key words. In moments like these, I always thought it was rude to stare at whoever was getting flowers, specially 'cause I considered it quite an embarassing moment. When I thought I'd already given the "lucky girl" plenty of time to recieve her flowers, I lifted my head to look around and see who it had been. However, I sensed something was wrong when every face nearby was staring at me.

-"Well Miss, if you don't want the flowers..." -the janitor said, looking at me.

I looked behind, thinking he was talking to someone behind me, but behind me were only more of my coleagues, also staring at me.

-"Excuse me... What?" - I managed to ask, as politely as I could..

-"Aren't you Miss Charlotte Richmund?"- the janitor asked.

-"Yes..?" -I anwered, uncertain if it was the correct answer to that question.

-"Then these are for you!"- he concluded.

By this time, the professor was getting impatient and intervened:

-"Just take them, we've already lost too much time with this..."

And that's when I realized what was actually happening. I apologized, stood up, took the beautiful pink tulips and returned to my seat, keeping my eyes on the ground. I left the tulips on the spare seat beside me and didn't raise my head from my notebook for the following 30minutes.
When I finally managed to calm down, I shyly inspected the tulips next to me, still without raising my head and trying to keep low profile. They were indeed beautiful. That's when I noticed a tiny card placed on the bouquet, very similar to the one I'd found before. My heart skiped another beat as I reached for it, opening it slowly: "I'll be waiting for you outside, when the lecture ends."

As I read such words I nearly died. All these mixed emotions were filling my brain (nop, not my heart!) - embarassment, confusion, expectation and, I must confess, excitement. I looked at my watch and had another near-to-death experience: there were only 10 minutes left for the lecture to end.

As soon as I noticed, the professor was giving us permission to leave and I regained consciousness of myself - I looked at my watch again, my 10 minutes had passed and I honestly couldn't remember what I'd been doing or thinking since I'd last checked the time. My heart beated faster and faster as I stood up and approached the auditorium's door. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and left.

No-one. There was no-one there looking at me, no one holding some tacky Valentine's sign, nothing... I sighed, half disapointed, half relieved. As I finally took a step forward to leave, I heard a male voice behind me:

-"Char... You forgot these!"

I turned to find my tulips in front of me. With everything that had happened, I'd forgotten the tulips inside the auditorium.

-"Than..." - I started, noticing for the first time the person holding them. His face looked familiar -he was a tall, golden haired boy, with beautiful deep blue eyes. I felt so astonished I nearly didn't recognize him at first. The fact he'd cut his hair since the last time I'd seen him probably helped. It was William, one of my coleagues, one I'd particularly grown fond about since we'd casually started talking, in September. I didn't get to see him more than twice a week though, during a lab class, since he didn't usually hang out with my group of friends.

-"You cut your hair..." - Was all I could say at fisrt, while taking the tulips -"I mean, thanks..."

He noticed my confused look and started, jokingly:

-"I saw you leave without the tulips, I'm pretty sure whoever gave them to you would be pretty disappointed. So, who's mistery man?" -he asked, with a playful wink.

-"Oh..." - I said, realizing he was just as clueless as I was on the matter. -"I don't know, some idiot trying to make fun of me" - I continued, as I started to walk. He followed me, still smiling. A really sweet and honest smile, I thought.

-"Gee... Don't be so harsh on the poor guy." - he joked, as we turned around the corner to a quieter corridor -"Who says it's not for real?"

-"Well, first of all, that would be very unlikely. Second of all, he said he'd be waiting outside the auditorium, and he didn't show up. Do I need to say more?" - I concluded, a bit, annoyed, felling as if I'd been stood up.
I stopped to face Will and noticed how deep and sweet his blue eyes really were, how good his new hairstyle looked on him,... and, basically, how he was looking at me. In a pretty intense way, that is.

-"Ah..." - I started, felling a bit unconfortable with his silence.

Will then reached my left cheek with his hand, and said, with the sweetest voice I'd ever heard:

-"Maybe he just wanted you to have your tulips..."

I could feel my heart beating faster as I lost myself in those words, in those enchanting blue eyes... I also came to find myself staring at his lips, and forced myself to look away. I felt William's hand slip from my cheek to the back of my neck and looked back at him, just in time to watch his face slowly approach mine. I stared at his eyes once more, as he got even closer, letting his lips touch my ear and wispering softly:

-"I love you so much..."

My breathing was getting harder, my heart beating faster,... Will kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes. I knew I was lost as he kept on slowly kissing my cheek, getting closer and closer to my lips. I felt his nose touch mine:

-"Can I kiss you?" -he asked, causing me to open my eyes and look into those deep blue eyes once more. I just smiled.

Maybe Valentine's wasn't so bad after all, I thought. But this thought didn't go further than that, 'cause that's when his lips touched mine, softly and gently, making me wish to kiss him more and more and thinking of nothing else.



____________________________________
I hope you liked it ;) Have a very nice Valentine's! :)
With love,
Marta
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#23 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 01:46 AM

I'm sorry for the repeated posts, my ipad is retarded. I've already reported the first two (the 3rd one has some corrections) :)
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#24 IreneAdler

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 05:47 PM

A Forbidden Match

By M. Buchanan

“If only he knew. But he doesn’t.” No one saw or heard Cupid as he cast an exasperated glance at the boy sitting on the team bench, absorbed in his text messages, as the basketball game raged around him. This was the trouble with mortals, they never observed, never appreciated the lives they had in front of them. If they did, they might have noticed that Greek gods still walked among them—but ever since the culture had swapped twelve gods for one, Cupid and Aphrodite were invisible.
Cupid leaned in to read over the boy’s shoulder:

“Do you like her?”
“Not like that, she’s disabled.”


Cupid was glad the boy couldn’t hear his loud snort of annoyance. The boy was just scared, as skeptics and bullies were. He might be tall and physically powerful on the outside, but inside, he was just as frightened as any teenager. Cupid had been watching this boy with great interest for several weeks. He played on a team that matched able and disabled players, he being the former, in an Olympics of sorts. (Cupid loved Olympics of all kinds, they reminded him of home.) As was inevitable at this age, the girl had fallen for her partner.

Cupid could pinpoint the exact moment it had happened: when the boy had been allowed to sink the basket that scored the team’s first points after a long, one-sided first half. The boy had barely had to reach over his head to make the basket, and the girl’s face glowed with something much stronger than admiration as they ran across the court. The boy, callous fool, still believed she could never have such feelings because she walked with a limp and spoke with a stutter. If he refused to see what was right in front of him, he was far more disabled than she was.

How easy would it be, Cupid thought, to shoot passion right into the boy’s heart that would challenge every assumption that boy had ever made about her? Cupid’s mouth all but watered with the delicious revenge, and it might actually do the boy some good in the end, to see the world differently.

The girl, for her part, was making a brave show of indifference for someone so deeply in love. Seated further along the bench with the other girls, she was loudly chatting and cheering the players on the court. Only the occasional awkward glance down the bench, and an ache in her heart that Cupid could feel even from this distance, proved she was hurting at all.

This was good, Cupid thought as he stood up. There was nothing worse than giving love to someone who had no sense of self, and would allow the affair to consume them completely because they had no other interests. He had done that with Bella Swan, and pigs would fly before he made the same mistake again. Even if the boy’s passions were short-lived, the girl would survive. There was only one thing left to do: convince Aphrodite.

Nervously, Cupid found Aphrodite in the bleachers and sat next to her. He had good reason to be uneasy: Aphrodite was not only his mother, she was the best in the match-making business. She had been responsible for some of the most ground breaking matches of all time. Romeo and Juliet? All her. More recently, she made the co-founders of the ex-gay movement fall madly in love—with each other. With a mother like that, was it any wonder Cupid felt a little overshadowed, desperate to prove himself?

“Mom, I want to make a match.”

“Are they close enough in age, and consenting?”

Cupid nodded.

“It’s Valentine’s Day though,” she paused, “where’s the element of surprise if everyone expects it?”

“No one’s expecting these two.” He pointed out the mortals and Aphrodite hopped down from the bleachers to observe. They were now both on the field, the boy striding ahead like The Flash, indicating where the others should stand for defense, the girl glued to her zone, arms waving through the air like windmill blades. Aphrodite seemed ready to sign on, but then her eyes fell on the boy’s cell phone, abandoned on the bench.

She examined the phone, dismayed, then said, “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Of course, why?” Cupid replied, annoyed. He wished his mother would just get out of the way and give him a clear shot. He was sure he could hit the boy’s back from here without him feeling a thing.

Aphrodite said nothing, but showed her son the final text message on the boy’s phone:

“Coach said athletes can’t date partners, it’s against the rules.”

Cupid had always assumed the boy was another awkward, scared teenager, just like the thousands he’d shot over the years. He never considered there might be something legitimate holding the boy back.

“You may break some stereotypes with a forbidden match, but it won’t be easy—for either of them.” Aphrodite said, when her son looked up, disillusioned. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“You hooked Romeo and Juliet up! It stopped two families from killing each other.” Cupid protested.

“Yes,” Aphrodite admitted, “I was young like you, and believed any love was better than none for mortals in a world like this. It did some good, but it didn’t work out in the end. Can you handle that responsibility?”

The count down clock was beeping off the remaining seconds of the game. All eyes, including the boy’s, were on the girl as she set up for the tie-breaking shot…

Cupid thought. Thought of the secret meetings they would arrange, the coach’s scorn should he find out, all the mess that would eventually be Cupid’s to clean-up. Yes, it would be difficult. Even so, neither of them would ever see the world the same way again. Love would make them observant…

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Cupid answered as he knocked his arrow, found his mark, and fired.

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#25 mrsktj

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Posted 04 February 2013 - 11:29 PM

The Rose
by Karen Jessop


hi_its_issa
I hate Valentine’s Day.

bran_man
Hi Marissa. Lemme guess. This has something to do with the rose you found in your locker.

hi_its_issa
You know me so well Brandon.

bran_man
Being friends since kindergarten has that affect on me. What’s wrong with the rose anyway? I thought girls went for that stuff.

hi_its_issa
Roses are fine I guess. But it’s one of those roses the cheerleaders were selling for their monthly fundraiser. I hate the idea of supporting those rah-rahs.

bran_man
Aw come on, can’t the rah-rahs have a little fun?

hi_its_issa
OK you’re right, it’s not really that. My problem is the card has some weird note and isn’t signed. I’ve been going crazy all day trying to figure out who sent it.

bran_man
A secret admirer!

hi_its_issa
I was thinking maybe it was Brian. He’d want to buy a rose right? You know, to support the cheerleaders?

bran_man
That jock? Getting a Valentine’s rose for you?

hi_its_issa
Gee thanks.

bran_man
Nothing against you of course. It’s just that…I didn’t think he’d be your type is all.

hi_its_issa
Brandon, he’s HOT! Have you SEEN his butt in those tight football pants?

bran_man
I gotta go.



hi_its_issa
Hi Brian, you there?

bribo
Hey Marissa! What’s up?

hi_its_issa
Oh nothing. Just wondering if you saw anyone near my locker this afternoon. You know…with a rose?

bribo
Nope. Hey did you see that running play today at practice where I took the snap and fake trap to the fullback?

hi_it_issa
Um, no can’t say I did.

bribo
Oh. Well I’ve been chatting with Dave about it all afternoon. He was pretty impressed. I can’t wait for our game tomorrow night. You coming?

hi_its_issa
Not sure yet. Probably. Oh hey I hear my mom calling. Gotta go! Talk to you later!



hi_its_isssa
Brandon, you there? You’re right. Brian is so not my type.

bran_man
hahahahaha!

hi_its_issa
Maybe it was Dave who left the rose?

bran_man
That guy who hangs out with Brian?

hi_its_issa
Yeah, he’s pretty cute!

bran_man
Again, nothing against you, but I never saw him with you. Or any girl for that matter.

hi_its_issa
Why not? He’s really nice and thoughtful and all the girls love to hang out with him. I feel totally comfortable asking him.




hi_its_issa
Hey Dave!

daver
Hi Marissa! oh my god, I loved that sweater you wore to school today. Totally cute! Where did you get it?

hi_its_issa
I got it on sale at Forever 21. I don’t think they sell guys clothes there though.

daver
Oh too bad.

hi_its_issa
So how’s your Valentines Day going so far?

daver
Great! You know those roses the cheerleaders were selling?

hi_its-issa
You bet I do!

daver
Well, I bought one for someone and left it in their locker.

hi_its-issa
REALLY??? And who’s locker might that be???

daver
Well….I’m kinda shy about this….but I guess you’ll find out about it eventually.

hi_its_issa
Oh Dave. I already know. You’re SO SWEET!

daver
Aw! Who told you? What did he think?

hi_its_issa
He? Wait…what are you talking about? Didn’t you leave a rose in my locker?

daver
YOUR locker? Um no. Sorry Marissa I think you’re really nice and all but you’re not really my type. I left a rose for Brian. Didn’t you know that we’re both….well…not really into girls?

hi_its_issa
Oh…yes…of course I knew. I think it’s great! I’m sure you and Brian will make a cute couple.

daver
There he is now! Gotta go!




hi_its_issa
OK, I totally know it wasn’t Dave now. OR Brian. That’s confirmed.

bran_man
hahahaha! I tried to tell you.

hi_its_issa
I just wish I knew who gave this to me. Did I mention the note attached? It’s red but looks like kind of a blob, not heart shaped at all.

bran_man
Well, around Valentine’s Day it’s easy to remember that the heart is actually shaped like a fist.

hi_its_issa
Hey, that’s what it says on the card! Wait a minute…Brandon was it you???

bran_man
Happy Valentine’s Day Marissa! I know we’ve been friends for a long time but lately I’ve notice that my hands form a fist when you start talking about other guys.

hi_its_issa
Brandon I had no idea! And I’m so glad! The only reason why I talk about other guys is because I thought you didn’t have romantic feelings for me either. Maybe we should get off IM and see what happens between us in person?

bran_man
Sounds like a great idea! See you in a few minutes.

hi_its_issa
[Account signed off. Auto reply from hi_its_issa: Sorry I can’t chat right now. I’m busy celebrating Valentine’s Day!]

bran_man
[Account signed off. Auto reply from bran_man: Do not disturb. MAKE OUT TIME!]

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#26 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 12:10 AM

My favourites until now: Lear's and IreneAdler's :)
I hope you'll like mine as well, though x)
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#27 Querida_Girl19

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 12:50 AM

Hi everyone! This story is inspired by Meg's use of Greek Mythology. I hope you all like it! :)


Love at First Fight


By: Allison N.


Around Valentine’s Day, it’s easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist. Considering that using my fist is one of the main things I want to do today, this is extremely relevant.

I have been waiting for this day since Valentine’s Day last year. Today the sun is shining, and the barren trees on the outskirts of my school are starting to grow leaves again. As fellow peers of my high school start appearing in the parking lot, making their way towards the school buildings, I already see balloons and flowers and boxes of chocolates. I check my phone. It is exactly 8:15 am, and already the world is tinted pink just for the occasion.

It makes me want to puke.

I am hunkered down on the roof of my school, thinking about how much I hate Valentine’s Day as I keep a wary eye out for the students below me. I am dressed in black, and there is a bow and arrow strung up in my hand. The nose of my weapon points down into the courtyard.

Don’t worry; it’s not like I’m planning on shooting people through the head or anything. I am just looking for someone. Someone who has made me loathe Valentine’s Day since I was aware of his existence. Every year he comes for me, and every year I manage to get away. But this year is going to be different. This year, I’m going to be ready for him.

“Looking for someone?”

His voice is as familiar to me as my mother’s, and I whirl around, my weapon still aiming forward. There he stands, in blue jeans and a black thermal with matching dark hair. The only thing that stands out about him is the bow and sheath of arrows he has looped over his shoulder, which are shimmering; a captivating color of gold.

“Hi, Cupid.”

Listen. You know what they’ve said about Cupid being a baby who flies around in diapers? Yeah. So not right. The boy before me is definitely no baby, unless you mean babe. Because he is good looking. But what else do you expect from the son of Venus, the goddess of love and beauty?

He makes a face. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, but I don’t mean it. “Would you prefer the name Eros?”

“I go by Eric,” he mutters, already annoyed with me. “But you already know that, don’t you, Psyche?”

Now it is my turn to feel irritated. “My name is Skye.” Well, Skye is my nickname, but it is much better than my real name. My real name is why Eric is after me, and considering how much I dislike him, I dislike my name, too.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” he comments, meaning our names. He pauses, and then finally seems to notice that I haven’t lowered my weapon. “What’s with the hostility?”

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a cherub?” I snap. “For years you’ve been coming to my school trying to pierce me—along with my fellow students—with that dumb bow of yours. You didn’t think one year I’d just give up and surrender, did you?”

He sighs and lifts one of his arms to nonchalantly scratch the back of his head. When he does this, the bulge of muscles in his arm makes my cheeks flare pink. This is another reason why I must destroy him: For the way he makes me feel.

“I was kinda hoping you would,” he admits. “But still, the bow? I mean, you must know that your arrows aren’t like mine. Mine can make people fall in love. Yours are junk. You can’t kill a god with regular arrows.”

“They aren’t meant to kill you,” I say, and release my hold on the bow. One of my arrows sails forward and hits him in the chest. It doesn’t hurt him, just startles him. When he pulls it out, I lunge, and we tumble down the edge of the roof. As we fall in a snowball of limbs, I try and grab at his bow. Without his precious arrows, he is nothing.

He pins me to the roof before I can get a hold on them. With him hovering over me, I realize that this is the closest I’ve ever been to him. Up close, he is even more handsome. His eyes are rings of gold, reflecting the same color as his arrows.

“Well,” I say, accepting my loss. Who am I to stand up to him, anyway? He is a god. I am only human. When it comes to brute strength, I don’t stand a chance. “Go on. Prick me with your arrows. Make me fall in love under your hand. Make my life a lie.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he says angrily. “I haven’t been trying to find you all these years because I want to hit you with one of my arrows. I did it because I didn’t want you to fall in love with someone else.”

“What?” I cannot stop the surprise that slips into my voice. This is news to me.

“I’ve been trying to catch you so that I can prick myself.”

“What?” I echo again. “Why do you want to be hit with one of your own arrows?”

He swallows. “So that the person I fall in love with will be you.”

I stare at him in shock as he reaches around and grabs one of his arrows from his back. He angles the point of the arrow on his wrist, but before it touches his skin, I lay a hand on his arm and say, “You are so dumb.”

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

Abandoning my years of wanting to destroy him, I give in to a different desire. I say, “Something tells me that we don’t need the arrows.” Then I lean up on my elbows, and meet my lips to his.

For the first time in my life, I actually enjoy a Valentine’s Day.

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#28 jayne66

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 07:08 AM

Singles Awareness Day, or is it more?

I hate Valentine’s Day. Most people who agree with this view will go straight into the ‘Oh, it’s just so commercial…people make grand gestures to cover their ineptitude for the rest of the year… blah…blah…blah.’ I hate Valentine’s Day because of its other name; single awareness day. It is the one day of the year single people dread the most. No matter how happy they are being single for the other 364 days Anyway, here I was on singles awareness day walking to the local bar with my friend Sarah. Sarah and I both met at university. We are heading out to meet our usual group of friends who are all also single. This is the story of just how single awareness day became something else too.

Two weeks earlier

Looking in the mirror I checked myself out. I could not help but smile. I did not look too bad at all, considering the hours I spent working on this look. A bleep from my phone distracted me from my moment of vanity. I could not help but smile at the name that appeared on my phone. I typed a quick reply, grabbed my bag and headed out the door.
I realised as soon as I got outside that the February chill did not mix with my little black dress. Folding my arms and dipping my head, I began the trek to Sarah’s house. Today was her nineteenth birthday and she was having a party in her student house, before heading to the local student club.
I am usually the first to arrive everywhere. Today was different. I was the last. I had no idea why everybody else had gotten there so early, but ours eyes met as soon I was walked into the room. I could feel my cheeks heat a little at the intensity of his gaze, yet I couldn’t help but smile. A mirror in the corner however showed that what I thought was a seductive, yet pretty smile was actually a big goofy grin. Not a good look. The gentle heat then enveloped my face full force, and I had to both distract and calm myself, by grabbing a drink.
I was not safe for long because soon his eyes once again found mine and I found myself captivated. At six foot five and slim yet with enough muscle to make any woman drool. His eyes were the kind of dark which had such depth and mystery that they almost seemed to pull you in. The dark brown hair was floppy but not enough for it to look messy. He was gorgeous. I pulled myself from his eyes and squeezed my own shut; clearing my head. I am never like this; I do not obsess over a boy…until now.
Later that night both Adam, our friend Shaun and I walk together to the local club. There is a large group ahead of us and one further behind. The conversation is light and jokey, we are all good friends. Yet with Adam things unexpectedly can get very fluttery, especially when he looks me in the eye. Then I am under his spell.
Adam and I have known each other for four months, we have been texting constantly and talking more on the nights our friends meet. Our first conversation happened in the darkness of laser quest when I leant out of cover to shoot the opposite team and Adam ran into my area, and into me. From then our friendship grew.
We pause in conversation and see Shaun has left us alone and is talking with those ahead of us. Adam leans in close and smiles cheekily,
‘I’m not in the mood for dancing are you?’
The heat is creeping up my neck and the breath catches in my throat. Could he be saying that he wants to be more than friends? I roll my eyes at my own silliness and point to my feet, which are encompassed in high heels, ‘My feet are pretty sore.’ I emphasise this with a grimace and hop from one foot to the other, indicating pain.
Adam straightens, looks at the groups of our friends both in front and behind and quickly pulls me behind a nearby building. ‘Then let’s not bother’ he says with his sweet smile. I nod too shocked to speak and we await those behind to pass before doubling back and heading back to his house. Ever the gentleman he grabs his car keys from his house and drives me back to mine. We stay in his car and talk for several hours. The conversation begins lightly, but those intense eyes begin searching me out again.
We both go quiet and just stare at each other. I bite my lip, nervous now, my stomach flips and he leans in and kisses me. It is as intense and wonderful as I hoped it would be. I feel like I am glowing.


Two weeks later though that feeling is gone. Adam spoke to me the next day and said he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship. How does that feel when somebody says this to you? Crushed? Empty? Numb? Whatever word you use, it’s not pleasant and on the walk to meet him and our other single friends for a friendly game of pool on Valentine’s Day feels like a cruel reminder of just how miserable this day can be.
Perhaps I should explain though what happened on the night of this Valentine’s Day that made the 14th of February special for me. Well after a few games of pool and a non-romantic movie showing of Zombieland. Adam reached out to me and kissed me again and asked me to be his girlfriend. So now, as well as it being national single awareness day, Valentine’s Day for me is the anniversary of mine and Adams relationship. Three years on it is still going strong.

Thanks for reading :)
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#29 Epihany408

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 02:16 PM

I hate Valentine’s Day. There I said it. I, Ashleign Cruz, hate Valentine’s Day. It’s a stupid, shallow holiday. Now my best friend Ally Singh would just say I’m bitter, because I’m single and destined to be forever alone. I would say that I think it’s stupid to be forced to buy gifts to show your love, because of a stupid baby with a heart shaped arrow.
Fine, maybe I am just a little bit bitter. Can you blame me? In all of my sixteen years on this Earth, starting from when I was eleven, something bad always happened on Valentine’s Day.

Since I doubt you will take my side, let me just tell you all of the past tortures I have faced on Valentine’s Day. In 2008, my Dad ran over my one month old kitten. In 2009, my dentist told me I had to get braces. In 2010 I decided to relax the wild, uncontrollable mane known as my hair. I decided to watch a Hindi movie Ally lent me while waiting for my hair to straighten out. Bad idea. I had no idea that Hindi movies were like four hours long, before I knew it half my hair had fallen out. I was forced to have my mother shave the rest of it off as she yelled at me for my stupidity. You’d be surprised how many bald jokes there are in the world. In 2011 my boyfriend Eric broke up with me, because he was gay. He said I helped him realize that he wasn't attracted to girls at all; he assured me that this was a compliment to m my character. In 2012, I broke leg. Now how did I do this you ask? I was innocently playing volleyball in the gym with the rest of my PE class, when I tripped over the streamers that were left on the floor from the people who were decorating the gym for the Valentine’s Day dance.

So, yes, I hate Valentine’s Day. Wouldn't you? So this is why I decided to spend the current Valentine’s Day in the library after school researching very important stuff. Like if it is possible to become a Nun, if you aren't catholic and have let a gay boy go to second base with you.
While I was researching this totally appropriate, intelligent topic, Chase Smith walked in. Oh my god! Chase Smith, the hottest guys in our school, was in the library on Valentine’s Day! I wondered if he was lost. As I tried to come up with a reason for why he’d be in the library, he starting heading towards my table!
Yes, Chase Smith was heading towards my table! I mean sure it was the only table available other than the one by our librarian, Ms. Tiball, who always smelled faintly of cat pee, but he still chose the table that I was seating at.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the seat across from me. Say something witty!
“No.” I replied. My vast knowledge of witty adjectives never fails to amaze me. I tried to not stare at Chase’s ocean blue eyes, or caramel colored skin, as I thought about how “ humiliating myself in front of Chase Williams” was going to end up on my list of horrible things that happened to me on Valentine’s day.
I glanced over the side of my laptop to see what Chase was doing. Oh my god, he was reading Lord of the Flies. I love reading that on Valentine’s Day too! As I was beginning to think up names for our future children, Chase looked up from his book.

“Your name is Ashleign, right?” Chase inquired.

I nodded.

“So, what is an attractive girl like you doing in the library on Valentine’s Day?” He asked

Wow this guy got straight to the point.

“Valentine’s Day is cursed for me.” I answered, before thinking about how crazy I must have sounded.

“Cursed?” he asked, actually looking interested, instead of thinking I’m insane like most people do. “You have to be exaggerating.”

Well in the past Valentine’s days my pet has been killed, I was forced to get braces, all my hair has fallen out, my boyfriend came out of the closet, and I broke a leg. So, yes, Valentine’s day definitely is cursed for me.” I replied. I thought he would runaway after hearing all of that.

Instead he started laughing uncontrollably. He had this deep, belly laugh that I really enjoyed.

“Stop. It is not funny.” I demanded, but soon I was also uncontrollable laughing. I couldn’t help it; all the stuff that happened to me could have won an Emmy for best comedy.

“Wow. I thought I had it bad.” Chase said, after we both finally got control of ourselves, “All that has happened to me was a few break ups. You've had the Valentine’s Days from hell.”

“I can’t argue with that.” I replied, feeling better.

“Well, let’s try to break the curse.” He said.

“How are we going to do that?”

“Well, by you going out to get coffee with me right now.”

“I don’t know,” I said reluctantly, as the images of me accidentally spilling hot coffee on his lap and causing him second degree burns ran through my head.

“Come on after all those horrible Valentine’s Days, what you have to lose?” he asked me.
As I tried to think of something, I realized he was right. I had nothing to lose. I've already lost all of my dignity, and hope two Valentine’s days ago.

“Fine, let’s go get a cup of coffee.” I said agreeing to go out with him.

“Great, my car’s outside.” He told me.

With that we gathered our stuff, and left. I won’t go into details what happened on that date. Let’s just say my curse was broken, and a few weeks later I didn't have to think about nun hood, because I had a boyfriend.
Of course the next Valentine’s Day I did manage to hit Chase in the crotch with a Wiffle ball causing him to go to the E.R., but that’s another story.
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#30 Epihany408

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 02:34 PM

The Valentine's Days from Hell

by: Yeabtsega B.




I hate Valentine’s Day. There I said it. I, Ashleign Cruz,hate Valentine’s Day. It’s a stupid, shallow holiday. Now my best friend AllySingh would just say I’m bitter, because I’m single and destined to be foreveralone. I would say that I think it’s stupid to be forced to buy gifts to showyour love, because of a stupid baby with a heart shaped arrow.

Fine, maybe I am just a little bit bitter. Can you blame me? In all of my sixteen yearson this Earth, starting from when I was eleven, something bad always happenedon Valentine’s Day.

Since I doubt you will take my side, let me just tell youall of the past tortures I have faced on Valentine’s Day. In 2008, my Dad ran over my one month oldkitten. In 2009, my dentist told me I had to get braces. In 2010 I decided to relaxthe wild, uncontrollable mane known as my hair. I decided to watch a Hindimovie Ally lent me while waiting for my hair to straighten out. Bad idea. I hadno idea that Hindi movies were like four hours long, before I knew it half myhair had fallen out. I was forced to have my mother shave the rest of it off asshe yelled at me for my stupidity. You’d be surprised how many bald jokes thereare in the world. In 2011 my boyfriend Eric broke up with me, because he wasgay. He said I helped him realize that he wasn’t attracted to girls at all; heassured me that this was a compliment to m my character. In 2012, I broke leg.Now how did I do this you ask? I was innocently playing volleyball in the gymwith the rest of my PE class, when I tripped over the streamers that were lefton the floor from the people who were decorating the gym for the Valentine’sDay dance.

So, yes, I hate Valentine’s Day. Wouldn’t you? So this is why I decided tospend the current Valentine’s Day in the library after school researching veryimportant stuff. Like if it is possible to become a Nun, if you aren’t catholicand have let a gay boy go to second base with you.

While I was researching this totally appropriate,intelligent topic, Chase Smith walked in. Oh my god! Chase Smith, the hottest guys in our school, was in thelibrary on Valentine’s Day! I wondered if he was lost. As I tried to come upwith a reason for why he’d be in the library, he starting heading towards mytable!

Yes, Chase Smith was heading towards my table! I mean sureit was the only table available other than the one by our librarian, Ms.Tiball, who always smelled faintly of cat pee, but he still chose the tablethat I was seating at.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the seat acrossfrom me. Say something witty!

“No.” I replied. My vast knowledge of witty adjectives neverfails to amaze me. I tried to not stare at Chase’s ocean blue eyes, or caramelcolored skin, as I thought about how “ humiliating myself in front of ChaseWilliams” was going to end up on my list of horrible things that happened to meon Valentine’s day.

I glanced over the side of my laptop to see what Chase wasdoing. Oh my god, he was reading Lord of the Flies. I love reading that onValentine’s Day too! As I was beginning to think up names for our futurechildren, Chase looked up from his book.

“Your name is Ashleign, right?” Chase inquired.

I nodded.

“So, what is an attractive girl like you doing in thelibrary on Valentine’s Day?” He asked

Wow this guy got straight to the point. That is so hot!

“Valentine’s Day is cursed for me.” I answered, beforethinking about how crazy I must have sounded.

“Cursed?” he asked, actually looking interested, instead ofthinking I’m insane like most people do. “You have to be exaggerating.”

“Well in the past Valentine’s days my pet has been killed, Iwas forced to get braces, all my hair has fallen out, my boyfriend came out ofthe closet, and I broke a leg. So, yes, Valentine’s day definitely is cursedfor me.” I replied. I thought he would runaway after hearing all of that.

Instead he started laughing uncontrollably. He had thisdeep, belly laugh that I really enjoyed.

“Stop. It is not funny.” I demanded, but soon I was alsouncontrollable laughing. I couldn’t help it; all the stuff that happened to mecould have won an Emmy for best comedy.

“Wow. I thought I had it bad.” Chase said, after we bothfinally got control of ourselves, “All that has happened to me was a few breakups. You’ve had the Valentine’s Days from hell.”

“I can’t argue with that.” I replied, feeling better.

“Well, let’s try to break the curse.” He said.

“How are we going to do that?”

“Well, by you going out to get coffee with me right now.”

“I don’t know,” I said reluctantly, as the images of meaccidentally spilling hot coffee on his lap and causing him second degree burnsran through my head.

“Come on after all those horrible Valentine’s Days, what youhave to lose?” he asked me.

As I tried to think of something, I realized he was right. Ihad nothing to lose. I’ve already lost all of my dignity, and hope twoValentine’s days ago.

“Fine, let’s go get a cup of coffee.” I said agreeing to goout with him.

“Great, my car’s outside.” He told me.

With that we gathered our stuff, and left. I won’t go intodetails what happened on that date. Let’s just say my curse was broken, and afew weeks later I didn’t have to think about nun hood, because I had aboyfriend.

Of course the next Valentine’s Day I did manage to hit Chasein the crotch with a Wiffle ball causing him to go to the E.R., but that’sanother story.


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#31 Faerienutmeg

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 07:00 PM

Paper hearts are easily fixable
By Lottie May


Around Valentine’s Day, it's easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist.
It’s also easy to forget that the day isn’t just about being in love or paper hearts.
There’s a dark side to the day. The side that has girls crying in toilets, because though they pretend not to care, they hate being single.
The ones who choose to go out with their friends, to show how cool and not bothered they are, despite the fact their crush asked someone else to be his Valentine is slowly killing them inside.
Or the ones that literally die. After all, Valentines is just another day – thousands die.
Two years ago, I was one of them.

*
“Hey, Rob. What’s happening?” The girl sits next to Rob. Close. Too close. I’m back at my old high school, watching some chick hit on the boy I love.
“Nothing much. Studying for the history test.” The girl nods, fiddling with her hands.
“You doing anything tomorrow? I was thinking we could go out.” WHAT?! I have no idea who this girl is, but the guy she’s asking out? Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.
Well. I guess if you’re being technical, he’s my ex-boyfriend, considering I died. But really? Talk about crossing boundaries. Not only is she asking him out, she’s asking him to be her date on VALENTINES, the day I DIED?
Rob looks startled, and my heart goes out to him.
“Uh…I’ve gotta go, see you later Louise.” Rob bounds off, leaving Louise sitting there, crestfallen. If she thought that was bad, she aint seen nothing yet. Time to put my ghostly superpowers to the test.

*
I leave Louise alone for a while so I can watch Rob. I’ve been wandering around on earth since my death. Mostly I watch my Mum, see how she’s coping but I spent the anniversary with her last year, and it almost killed me.
Again.
Rob’s still lost in thought. I know he and Louise share a class, but I didn’t think they were that friendly.
It doesn’t take long to find Louise; in the girls’ toilets, washing her hands…one little thought and whoosh.
The water from the tap spits out, covering her jeans and white top. That’ll teach you to ask my soulmate out.
Me and Rob were soulmates. Everyone knew it; our parents, school mates, us.
“oh my god, Louise, did you seriously ask Rob Goodman out, for Valentine’s day?” Tina Long has rushed into the bathroom. She’s the school gossip.
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t you know his girlfriend died two years ago tomorrow?” Louise goes pale, and I feel a dart of satisfaction.
“No. I’ve been here six months, why did nobody tell me? What did she die of?”
“Car crash. She was on her way to meet Rob for their date, and then…well, you know.”
The afternoon is spent following Louise around and making her day hell.
When we reach Rob again, I can’t help smiling at the rejection she’s going to get.
“Louise, hey. I was thinking about what you asked and…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You found out about Jenny then.” Louise nods. The sound of my name sends a jolt though me. “Are you alright? You seem tired.”
“It’s been one of those days. I was sprayed by the taps, my books fell out my locker, and I tripped in the hall.” Robs raises one eyebrow. He’s so sexy when he does that.
I miss him.
“Well, look. If you’re still on for tomorrow, I’d like to.” I don’t hear the rest of the conversation. He’s replacing me, with a shorter, curvier, brown haired girl.

*

At 11.47pm, three minutes until the anniversary of my death, I find myself hovering in front of my gravestone, staring at my name and trying to cry. I know I want to cry, but it’s something ghosts cant do. A rustle of leaves alerts me to someone else coming. Who cares? They can’t see me.
“Hey Jenny. How’re doing?” I turn slowly, finding myself looking down on Rob’s head. He’s sitting cross legged on the grass, pulling blades up and twirling them between his fingers. “I feel stupid sitting here. I don’t know if you can hear me…but something tells me you can. Like something used to tell me when you were upset or angry or worried.” I settle myself a few inches above my headstone. He came here. To me.
“The thing is, someone asked me out today. I think you know that though, right? She kinda had a bad day. And I remembered how you used to get crazy jealous and hate any girl who would even look at me. So it makes sense it would be you, right?” Rob smiles, the first genuine one I’ve seen for two years.
“I love the idea that you’re here. Watching. I’m sorry this is the first time I’ve been to visit you here, but I… couldn’t.” Rob continues talking.
But I’ve been struck by a picture. 50 years in the future, Rob sitting in his one bedroom apartment, alone.
I want him to be happy.
“I get that dying when you’re 17 sucks. I also know how upset you must be thinking I’m moving on. So, if you don’t want me to, give me a sign. I’ll cancel on Louise. I need to know what I’m doing is right.”
I need to let Rob be happy, but then I won’t be.
But I don’t exist any more. My feelings don’t count.
Rob stands up. I know what I have to do.
The loose rose petals from a nearby grave pass over his feet. Three of them, for YES.
“Thanks.” Rob smiles, then presses his fingers against his mouth, then my grave.
A church bell goes off; it’s midnight.
“Happy Valentines, baby.”
Rob turns and walks off, rubbing a single rose petal. And though I know how pointless it is, I can’t help whispering;
“Happy Valentines.”
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#32 PikaChica

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Posted 05 February 2013 - 07:44 PM

A True Princess
By: PikaChica

I hate Valentine’s Day. I hate it.
I rubbed at the rip in my dress, trying desperately to wipe some of the dirt off the silky pink fabric. I knew it was futile. I knew that a little dirt wasn’t going to magically mend the unsightly gash in my lovely gown, or stop the tears from rolling freely down my cheeks, or erase the memory of this whole terrible evening.
But I had to try. The night was a total loss, but the dress didn’t deserve the same fate. It was so pretty. I couldn’t bear to write it off as trash so soon. I wanted to save it.
I tried to sniffle quietly. No need to draw attention to my humiliation. I shifted so that I was hidden almost completely in the shadows.
Not that anyone would notice me in the first place.
This was worse than the time when my cat barfed on my white sneakers.
Ugh, sometimes things just seem to fall apart. And, unfortunately, this particular event crumbled faster than one of those terrible granola bars Mom always bought.
It all started yesterday.
The impending Valentine’s Day dance was almost here. Even though I would have been shocked to get asked to it, I still secretly harbored the silly idea that a mystery gentleman might confess his love to me.
It was a nice little fantasy. And as long as the dance was still in the distant future, it could give me hope. However, eventually my prince would ride into the sunset without me.
I sighed as I walked in the door.
“Sarah!” My mom called from the kitchen, “Sarah! I have a surprise for you!”
I hoped that it wouldn’t be some enthusiastic attempt to take my mind off the dance. Last Valentine’s, Mom tried so hard to cheer me up. It was sad. She bought me flowers. Blurgh.
She shoved a large red box into my arms.
“Go on, open it!”
I did, thinking it was better to indulge her than to protest. It wasn’t like I had better plans tomorrow anyways.
Once I’d sifted through the pink tissue paper, the mysterious present was revealed. It was a shimmery fuchsia gown that was simple, but stunning. I gingerly pulled it out of the box, the gossamer fabric spilling over the sides like a liquid.
“Try it on, sweetie!” Mom smiled.
Like a robot I drifted into my room. I was terrified to try the lovely thing on. What if it didn’t fit me? What if it fit but it didn’t look right?
Despite these tribulations, I did put it on.
And it fit perfectly, like it was made for me. My eyes filled with tears.
Mom rapped twice on my door and then entered. Her smile was instantly replaced by a look of worry.
“Oh honey, what’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” She stroked my hair.
I fiddled with one of the ruffles and blinked rapidly.
“I don’t have anywhere to wear it!” I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“The dance honey, the dance!” she spun me around to face her, “Listen to me, baby. You don’t have to have a date. You can go have fun by yourself! Don’t let anyone stop you from wearing this beautiful dress, okay?”
Right then I knew I wouldn’t have a choice. I had to suck it up and go, even if it was just for Mom’s sake. She’d probably make me wear it at home if I didn’t go. That would be the epitome of pathetic. Besides, I didn’t see a tag on the dress. She must have already cut it off.
“Sweetie, you look like a princess.”
For once, I had to agree. I even felt like a princess. And even if this princess didn’t have a prince, she was still going to the ball.

I stepped out of the car and wobbled dangerously on my high heels.
“Have a great time!” Mom tossed out the window as she drove away, eager to not embarrass me.
I took a deep breath, made sure my hair was in place, and tried to walk confidently up to the school.
People stared, but for a whole different reason this time. I wasn’t just CeeCee Rover, the girl who everyone laughed at. Tonight, I was someone else.
I was a princess.
And I was smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled so much at school. I hoped that I didn’t have lipstick on my teeth.
Those ten seconds were great. Until they came.
“Loser! All the makeup in the world couldn’t fix you.”
It was Luke Stoller and his mean friends. They were awful, always terrorizing me in the halls.
His large body elbowed past me. That little bump in the shoulder was all it took to throw me off balance. I teetered on my heels, then fell on the hard concrete, my knee ripping a hole through my dress.
From there, I slunk over to the bench where I was now.
My fingers shook as I unpinned the sparkly barrette from my hair. My “tiara”. I wouldn’t need that anymore.
“I think you dropped this,” said a soft voice.
Timidly, I looked up. It was one of Luke’s friends, Cameron. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, with his tousled raven hair and ice blue eyes. The moon cast a soft light upon his features that made him look like he’d walked straight out of a fairytale world. I scooted away, a little bit wary.
He thought I’d moved to make room for him, so he sat down.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I want to make it up to you. I promise I won’t let them bother you anymore.”
His voice was thick with emotion, and I knew he was sincere. A shiver ran through my body. Upon noticing this, he immediately took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Gently, he brought his hand up to my face.
“You look beautiful,” He wiped away a tear with his thumb, “You’ve always been beautiful to me.”
He didn’t care that my makeup was smeared, or my dress was ripped, or that I was a broken girl. He looked past all that and saw me.
I couldn’t speak. As if drawn my some magnetic force, we leaned in closer. My arms wrapped around his neck and his encircled my waist.
“You look like a princess,” He breathed.
I smiled, safe in the arms of my prince.
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#33 IreneAdler

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Posted 06 February 2013 - 12:25 AM

My favourites until now: Lear's and IreneAdler's :)
I hope you'll like mine as well, though x)


Thank you!
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#34 Lear

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Posted 06 February 2013 - 10:37 AM

My favourites until now: Lear's and IreneAdler's :)
I hope you'll like mine as well, though x)

You made my day!! :icon_flower:
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#35 pink_princess_marta

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Posted 06 February 2013 - 03:10 PM

Ow :) I'm glad about that!
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#36 Lear

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Posted 07 February 2013 - 10:08 AM

My 2 favorites are The Valentine's Day from Hell by Epihany408 and A True Princess by Pikachica. Hope you liked mine as well :heartbeat:
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#37 Lear

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Posted 07 February 2013 - 10:08 AM

My 2 favorites are The Valentine's Day from Hell by Epihany408 and A True Princess by Pikachica. Hope you liked mine as well :heartbeat:
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#38 PikaChica

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Posted 07 February 2013 - 07:15 PM

My 2 favorites are The Valentine's Day from Hell by Epihany408 and A True Princess by Pikachica. Hope you liked mine as well :heartbeat:


Aww, shucks *grins bashfully* Yours was pretty darn good too, if I do say so myself :)
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#39 lmsparks

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Posted 07 February 2013 - 09:30 PM

The Brown Mouse

I hate Valentine’s Day. There is nothing even remotely redeeming about a singular day out of the year where girls pin their hopes on being swept off their feet, in a whirlwind of romance by a guy whose idea of romance on every one of the other 355 days is a bout of “Pull my finger” while scratching his nether regions in front of the television.

“Junie…” came the drawn out whine from my best friend, Cat, as she put her arm around my shoulder. “You have to do this for me. John’s buddy is only in town for a couple of days, and John doesn’t want to leave him home alone on Valentine’s. If you don’t come out with us, I will have to spend Valentine’s alone!” Cat added the ominous sentiment, and I knew it meant she would be camped in front of the TV, watching Pride and Prejudice on a continuous loop, dipping into Ben & Jerry’s while draining the vodka.

As if being alone on Valentine’s Day is tantamount to a death sentence! I have never been out on Valentine’s. I treat it like New Year’s Eve…nothing good can happen when you venture outside into the craziness. You either end up in jail, pantiless…or both.

“Why can’t you ask someone else? I am sure there are plenty of other girls that would kill for a guy to swoon over on Valentine’s Day.”

“I tried! I really did! Everyone else has a date!” Well, that would make sense. I am always the “go to” girl for the “my boyfriend has a friend” date.

I wrap my arms around my chest, and push out my bottom lip. “I have nothing to wear, and I need to wash my hair, and there are the dust bunnies under the couch that must be attended to, and have you seen the science experiments in the fridge? We are going to get the bubonic plague or something. I really think it is better if I stay home.”

But Cat is having none of it. She stands there with her hands on her hips, staring at me, motionless, speechless. I return her stare, and shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. The unnerving silence seems to last interminably. Dang, she is good. She knows I will never win this game. And after one minute and three seconds – I acquiesce.

“Fine,” I exhale loudly, pushing the limits of exasperation. “Where are we going, what time, and what are you making me squeeze my lard butt into?” Cat throws her arms around my neck, squealing in delight, and reveling in my inability to hold my own. I am truly disgusted in myself.

The mirror hates me. No matter what I do, I always look like “mouse girl.” It does not help that Cat is the very essence of her name. Her smooth, shiny, coal black hair that hangs straight down her back, her green eyes that give her a mysterious feline appearance, voluptuous in all the right places, while slender in the rest, only serve to highlight my extraordinary ordinariness.

Brown hair, brown eyes, nondescript body, no voluptuousness anywhere. Plain Junie. Ugh.

The purple dress Cat picked for me is uncomfortably short, with more plunge than I have boobs. I try in vain to lengthen the dress as Cat huffs and puffs at me to keep still. I have told her my hair will not curl, but she is convinced she can create soft, flowing curls. After fifteen minutes of working on the same piece of hair, she throws in the proverbial towel, and stomps out of the bathroom.

We walk - well, Cat glides; I stumble, into the restaurant bar area, where Cat as predetermined we will have “a few drinks, a few laughs, and get to know each other.” My mantra for the night, repeated over and over in my head, “tequila is bad, tequila is bad, you must retain your panties, tequila is bad.”

Cat floats across the room, flitting effortlessly into John’s outstretched arms. I like him, despite his perfect teeth, and irritatingly good manners. He leans in to give me a peck on my cheek, before turning slightly to his right.

“Junie,” he sings, another adorable attribute that vexes me greatly, “this is my buddy Carson.”

Now, I know the overwhelming hope. The Harlequin notion that Carson and I will look longingly into each other’s eyes and a spark will ignite, and we will know – instantly know – that we are meant to be together forever. Not so much. I look into Carson’s eyes, and all I see is a look of sheer terror, while he tries to figure out an escape route. Yea for me! My first Valentine’s date and he already wants to call it a night. My new mantra, “long night ahead, must drink tequila, long night ahead, must drink tequila.”

Somewhere around ten, long after dinner is over, long after Carson and I have run out of questions that neither really cares about, and about five minutes after Carson has asked the waitress what time her shift is over, we make our way out of the restaurant, onto the street, and awkwardly say goodnight. The wind picks up, and I reach for my shawl…that is not around me…that is lying across the back of the chair in the restaurant.

“I will just run in and get it,” I offer, as Carson rolls his already perturbed eyes at me. If I were not in high heels, and at serious risk of rolling an ankle, I would punch him in the gut, effectively wasting his expensive lobster dinner as he tossed it onto the sidewalk. Jerk! “Don’t wait for me. I can get home on my own.” Cat and John look at me, questioningly, while Carson nearly jumps for glee. “I will be fine,” I assure Cat, and she finally takes John’s arm, and the three turn to leave.

The bartender calls to me that they are closed, as I make my way through to the dining room. I wave at him, effectively dismissing him, and continue on my course. Crossing through the bar once more, I hold up my shawl for the bartender to see, indicating that I came in with a singular purpose, and am now departing. I am so frustrated with men, and I hit the exit with force, impatient to get back out into the cool night air. My head slams against the now locked-for-the-night glass door, sending lightning bolts of pain straight into my brain, while my eyes water, and blood drips from my nose, over my chin, and into the plunge of my dress.

I feel hands on my arms, lifting me up. My eyes are shut tight, begging for the pain to ease. A voice is telling me to “step, step, step, sit” and my bottom hits the edge of a bar stool, and I fall onto it. The hands are gone, the voice is silent, but I hear the ice being shifted around in the bin behind the bar. The hand is back, as well as the voice, commanding me to “tilt your head forward,” as the softness of the cloth towel rubs against my nose. Then the intense cold hits, and I try to pull my head away, but the hand is holding it firmly in place. The voice is soothing, relaxing, and soon the pain begins to dissipate to the extent that I can lift my head and open my eyes.

“Hi,” the voice says, “I’m Eli.” I gaze into Eli’s stunning hazel eyes, and melt into his smile. And I know. Instantly. We were meant to be together forever.

I love Valentine’s Day.

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#40 Carla Menezes

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Posted 08 February 2013 - 10:47 AM

Hi, everyone! My name's Carla, I'm sixteen and I'm from Brazil. I decided to post this "thing" I wrote about Valentine's Day which isn't really a story, just a few sentences about a guy that I like and will never ever realize that :) I don't know if I'm right to post this over here, you can delete it if I'm not. Just wanted to show you guys and ask your opinion about it. SO SORRY about grammatical mistakes, really.

Tomorrow I'll Miss You

If only he knew. But he doesn’t, that when I first saw him – or noticed him – at our Math teacher’s house, 11p.m counting the kilos of food that we spent the day asking our neighbors to donate to a poor community, I fell in love with him. If only he knew that I went to sleep only at 3 a.m talking to my roommate about how amazing he was for staying there until very late when he could be doing anything else; If only he knew that the next day I asked every single person I know in school if they knew him; If only he knew that I used to spend a few minutes staring at his pictures on the school wall with those medals he won in the Math, Chemistry and Physics Olympics; If only he knew that I cried when our Portuguese teacher showed me – ME, ME, ME! – his essay about Mother’s day and he wrote that even though his mother is in heaven, he feels that she’s closer to him than some of his friend’s mothers that are alive.
If only he knew that I really enjoy listening to that Indie band that he can’t stop talking about on Facebook;
If only he knew that when he kissed me on the cheek for the first time it felt like heaven. If only he knew that even now that he lives in another city and I’m not able to see him everyday, I still think about him everytime I go to sleep. If only he knew that I was the happiest girl on Earth when they told me that he was accepted in that incredible University, - even though that meant that we’ll only see each other in a year from now – and had to shave his head to celebrate that – and it wasn’t that good – but for me, he still was the most handsome boy in the Universe.
If only he knew that my heart beats faster than anything everytime that little Facebook window tells me that he said “HI”. If only he knew that I can’t forget that day when we were singing The Beatles songs at school and we made eye contact while singing “Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you… tomorrow I’ll miss you…”. If only he knew.
If only he knew that I saw him the day my father died but didn't have the guts to talk to him...
If only he knew. If only he knew that even though our Valentine's Day is June 12nd in Brazil, I'd love to celebrate twice with him.
If only he knew. But he doesn’t.

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#41 JustOneMorePage

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Posted 08 February 2013 - 07:06 PM

Hi everyone,
This is my first short story so I really hope you all enjoy it :)
Happy Valentine's Day!
Lisa


Keep Dreaming

If only he knew. But he doesn’t. At least that is what I keep telling myself. I’m not entirely sure how he could have missed all the hints I have dropped, but men are generally oblivious to that sort of thing aren’t they?

I have come close to telling him exactly how I feel so many times, but I have yet to find the courage to actually utter those three words. I’m also holding out hope that he will declare his love for me first and save me the agony. I have spent countless hours imagining scenarios in which he tells me that I have always been “the one”, and more often than not those scenarios include him getting down on one knee and presenting me with an engagement ring.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but with Valentine’s Day being a week away, my imagination has been running even wilder than usual. At this point, I’ve basically written a romantic comedy in my mind with me and Aaron as the lead characters. Ours would be the perfect love story, after all.

We actually met on Valentine’s Day five years ago. I was working at chocolate shop when Aaron raced in just before closing time, desperately searching for a gift for his girlfriend. I wasn’t sure whether I should feel sorry for the guy or chastise him for waiting until the last minute. I pitied the poor girl who would be receiving the haphazard assortment of our least popular candy, which was all that was left on the shelves.

Of course, one look into his hazel eyes and I realized the gift probably wouldn’t matter all that much. After all, who would care about a box of chocolates when the person giving them to you was the perfect specimen? The man before me was tall, at least 6”2, and his athletic form was evident despite the heavy jacket and loose jeans he was wearing.

I was so flustered when I rang up his purchase that I didn’t even notice that he had left his wallet on the counter until I was closing up the shop. When we met the next day so I could return it, he confessed that his girlfriend had broken up with him. I apologized profusely but he assured me it had nothing to do with the candy he had given her.

We ended up talking for a few hours over coffee and we quickly became good friends. In fact, he was my best friend, the one I called as soon as anything happened, good or bad, the one I could talk to for hours about everything and nothing at all. Everywhere we went people automatically assumed we were a couple. We were just like Ross and Rachel in Friends or Luke and Lorelei in Gilmore Girls. The couple everyone knew was meant to be together, but who failed to see it for themselves.

Perhaps comparing us to fictional characters was unfair. After all, those characters had professional writers composing their dialogue, and props departments creating the perfect backdrop for that pivotal moment. But if anyone could pull off a Hollywood moment, it was Aaron.

Valentine’s Day would be the perfect opportunity to take our relationship to the next level. We had already made plans to have dinner together and I imagined him taking me to my favorite Italian restaurant in a cute little cobblestone courtyard. After a romantic candlelit dinner we would cozy up on a bench in the courtyard, where we would share our first kiss.

“I’ve been waiting five years to do that,” he would say.

“I’ve been waiting five years for you to do that,” I would reply.

“Emily, you know how much I care about you. You are the most amazing person I know. The only reason I’ve been hesitant to kiss you is I was afraid that I would lose my best friend if things didn’t work out between us. But I realize now how crazy that is. There is absolutely no reason things wouldn’t work out. I love you, and I want nothing more than to spend my life with you by side.”

And with that, he would get down on one knee and open the small box he had been hiding in his coat pocket. “Emily Meier, will you marry me?”

Between the tears I would somehow manage to utter a yes and he would slip the perfect diamond engagement ring on my finger. And with that, we would be well on our way to our very own happily ever after.

The logical part of me knows that would never happen. I’m pretty sure no guy would plan to propose to a girl he had never even kissed. Nonetheless, I hoped that someday soon he would confess that I was the women he wanted to make his wife. I cannot bear to think that he might not share my desire to start a family and grow old together.

So, at least for now, I’m going to hold on to the belief that he doesn’t know. Another Valentine’s Day will pass without any grand gestures, and I will wake up on February 15th as single as I had woken up on the 14th. But at least I will still have my best friend. And who knows, maybe by next year he will be my boyfriend, if not my fiancé. A girl can keep dreaming right?
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#42 brav0_zulu

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Posted 09 February 2013 - 05:27 PM

Singled Out

If only he knew. But he doesn’t, and he can’t.

I like Liam. I really, really like him. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known my best friend Stacey. I've liked him since 4th grade when I laughed and snorted water out of my nose at lunch. I felt like he was the only one in the whole room who was laughing with me, not at me. I was so grateful to him for giving me his napkin and letting me borrow his hoodie to hide my water-stained clothes while he just wore an embarrassing kid-sized muscle tank. Liam and I were best friends until we reached middle school and that awkward age where girls and boys can’t hang out anymore without being labeled as a couple. Not that I would mind.

We still talk, sometimes. If I’m lucky, we’ll both coincidentally go out jogging at the same time and end up laughing, barely having time to take a breath. It feels just like old times (except in elementary school, nobody worked out.)

Nobody knows I like him except for Stacey, because here’s the thing: he’s popular. He’s got potential girlfriends hanging onto his every word, girls he rejects. If Stacey somehow persuaded me to confess and I got rejected along with all those other girls (and some guys too,) I would feel like such a loser for liking my old best friend. Not only that, but what if we happened to see each other jogging again? What could I even possibly say to him? I would be so mortified, I would probably just freeze up.

The seniors’ Valentine’s day dance is today. The theme is soo stupid: “Singled Out.” The idea is for couples to get together and see who the single people are. Stupid, right? That would be torture for anyone singled out. But maybe I’m just biased because I know I’m going to be one of them.

Liam is required to go because he’s our emcee, and of course, him being who he is, he’s expected to bring a date.

I wish that could be me, I thought distractedly as Stacey did my hair for me, using my natural loose curls to create a gorgeous half-updo.

“Done,” she announced proudly.

I looked in the bathroom mirror at the completed white and red themed look. “It’s really pretty, Stacey, thanks. I still don’t get why you’re making me go, though. I don’t have a date, and I can’t even pretend to be a lesbian and pair up with you like we did for the dance last year because now you have Sam.”

Stacey smiled and got a dreamy look in her eyes like she always did at any mention of her boyfriend, Sam. “Don’t worry, Layla. We need to hurry, the dance starts in half an hour.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awkwardly checked my nails at the edge of the dance floor, as far away from all the couples as I could get. I had debated getting some punch to look like I had a purpose, but I didn’t want to risk spilling any on the strapless white dress with a red sash at the waist and gloves that Stacey had lent me. There was five minutes left to pair up. Basically, that meant anyone single had five minutes to find a partner before all the cruel couples started pointing at them (me) and remembering them (me) as forever alone. I couldn’t leave the dance because I promised Stacey that I would stay. At first, she had asked, and then she was begging me to come until I said I would just to shut her up. Who knows what her reasons are.

Whatever, I can deal. I hope.

“Three minutes left,” Liam said into the microphone, standing on top of a makeshift stage the decorating committee threw together last minute. But, God, he looked good. He made that so-called stage look like it belonged in a Broadway theatre.

Stop staring. Check nails. Keep checking.

“One minute!” I saw Stacey and Sam mingling on the crowded dance floor, waiting for the songs to start. I caught eyes with Stacey and she smiled at me, like she didn’t notice I was at the edge of the dance floor.

Why do I even bother checking my nails? Stacey did a perfect job.

“It’s time!” Liam called. I looked up and suddenly realized I was the only one left. Every other single person had left the dance before being humiliated.

Oh, crap.

“I see we have one person singled out,” Liam said wryly. “Layla, come up on this table—I mean, stage.” I felt my cheeks flame as I walked over and climbed up, thinking of how he looked even better up close. Hopefully, Stacey did my makeup with my blushing issues in mind.

“Well, actually, there are two people singled out,” Liam corrected himself. I forced myself to look at the crowd on the dance floor, seeing Stacey and Sam staring at us, both with knowing smiles on their faces. I tried to shoot her a what-did-you-get-me-into look, but her wide smile startled me. What?

“There’s you,” Liam continued. “And then, there’s me.”

Wait. Liam didn't have a date?

“Okay, hold on just one moment, everyone,” Liam said, putting the microphone a safe distance away from us, so that it wouldn’t pick up us talking.

“I remember that time,” Liam said to me and me only, “when you laughed so hard you snorted water out your nose. I thought I was going to die laughing. Everyone else was so… boring, but you? You stood out.”

I wasn’t quite sure if Stacey’s makeup would help with how much I was blushing. “And—and you walked around for the rest of the day with that white muscle shirt,” I blurted.

He smiled, turning my knees to Jell-O. Why oh why is this dress short enough to show my knees?

“I did wear that muscle shirt,” he replied. “It was embarrassing, but worth it, because if I remember correctly, it made you smile.”

“It did make me smile,” I repeated idiotically.

“That,” he continued, “Was when I fell for you.”

I stared. He looked striking in his white tux. White tux? I suddenly thought. And a red tie that matches my sash and gloves?

He held out his hand and bowed slightly, looking like a complete gentleman, his familiar, easygoing smile playing at his lips, that smile I first saw on that fateful day in 4th grade. “You look beautiful tonight, Layla. Dance with me?”

Thank you, Stacey, for doing what I was too scared to do. It looks like this time, no one is singled out.

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#43 Helena.Alexandra

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Posted 10 February 2013 - 11:23 AM

Not For Me, No.

I hate Valentine's Day.
It's kind of hard to grow up being the only girl person that doesn't get all bubbly and weirdly in favor of wearing pink all day on Valentine's Day. I mean, we are two days away and everybody is already exchanging secret-that-are-not-so-secret romantic looks. EVERYWHERE.
My best friend, Lola, is one of the bubbliest person you'll ever see on Valentine's Day season. It makes me want to barf. She started decorating her locker as soon as we came back from Christmas break, and planned the whole day with her boyfriend, Chris, two weeks ago. It's not an obsession, Valentine's Day is a DISEASE. That, thank God, I am free of. At least I was, until freaking Matt "Kent" Johnson enrolled in our school.
Lola calls him Kent because he is freakishly similar to superman, with blue eyes, black hair and - as I witnessed in gym class - rock-hard abs. By the way I'm not a stalker - hot-ass Matt Johnson managed to be in every single one of my classes. So if there is anyone stalking anyone, it is him. Anyway, he's been attending our school for about a month now and he already has every single girl sighing to the sight of his wide jaw, half-smile and messy hair going down the hall to economics class. The thing is, I am totally not one of those girls.
I totally didn't feel my heart skip a beat when Mr. Ethan assigned him as my lab partner, or started babbling incoherent nonsense when he sat with me at lunch, or avoided eye contact with Lola because she was totally on to me. I wasn't into him. I so wasn’t.
But then, the Valentine's Day Fever started. And Matt didn't seem to be affected by it, even though he for sure received twice more Valentine's Day cards than every guy in our school combined, during the past week. In a school where everyone helped to organize the annual Valentine's Dance, boys accepted to wear pink and no one would study for a test next day just because it's a priest's death anniversary, he was a breath of fresh air - that smelled to mint and summer.
"I have found my soul-mate." I announced sitting pompously at the lunch table where Lola and Chris were feeding each other in a totally gross way - you don't want to know.
"Where? You had classes all day, Emma." Chris said in disbelief.
"My home economics class." I shrugged biting my apple.
"The cooking class?" Lola exclaimed in sarcastic excitement. Chris pinched her, and she blushed. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"He hates Valentine's Day. This year, I might not-go to the Valentine's Dance this year accompanied. " I smiled. Since I started high school, there were tons of unnecessary dances - Homecoming, Cancer Research (That one was kind of cool), Snowflake… - but the Valentine's Dance was, by far, the worse. When we had a Sadie Hawkins's Dance on freshman year, who didn't have a boyfriend simply didn't have the guts to ask a boy to the dance. Therefore, it sucked - boys on one side, girls on the other. Last year, everyone wore puffy dresses, because it was princess's night, but no one thought about the size of the dance floor. Bottom line: This year, the dance floor doubled its size, so no one would accidentally dance into the punch bowl. So I never actually went to a Valentine's Dance, but not because I wasn't asked, but because is a huge waste of time and money. Except when you find your soul mate. Then it's a magical night.
"Wait" Lola leaned forward and whispered as if it was a dangerous secret "There are more of you?"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Who hates Valentine's Day?"
I chewed slowly the last bite of my apple while Lola's patience burned up. I swallowed and stared at her, and a mean smile sneaked into my lips. "Kent."
It was instantaneous. Lola's eyes widened and a guttural cry of despair came from her. Chris held her close and made "Shush" sounds, but I don't know if he was trying to console her or snuggle her to death. "No!" She finally articulated a word. "Perfect Kent! No!"
"Yep!" I couldn't help but smile. Lola loves Valentine's Day, she says her hair is red because she was born on Valentine's day, and that's why her mission in this world was to make everyone love Valentine's Day. That's actually why we're friends. She tried to pull me out of the Dark Side of the Force. Ha, as if.
"C'mon! For real? How do you know?" Chris asked as he shut Lola's mouth with his big, tanned hand.
"He doesn't have stupid heart decorations on his locker." I pointed, remembering this morning when we were gathering our math books.
"Jocks don't have them either" He said. He was on the football team, so he probably knew.
"Ok… He didn't opened a single one of the cards he got." I said. "He actually threw them all in the garbage."
Lola stopped screaming, but she looked at me and mumbled as if she was trying to say something important. "Chris" I nodded at her and she was released from her imprisonment.
"What did he say to you, when he threw them in the garbage?" She asked.
I actually remembered asking him, and he had looked at me, straight into my eyes, and said…
"He said: those people don't even know me.I'll read a Valentine's card when it comes from someone that matters. And sat down." I didn't mention that he was still staring at me, waiting for my answer. I mean, that wasn't relevant, was it?
"Oh. My. God!" Lola inhaled between every word. "oh my god! He is totally into you!" She had triumph in her eyes. "You are the one that matters!"
I didn't realized until then that my mean smile had turned into a silly one. Until Matt sat on the table.
"What's with the bubbly smile?" He asked, his black hair falling over his eyes. My heart soooo didn't race, my smile totally didn't widen and I absolutely did not nervously brushed my brown hair behind my ear. Except it did.
"She has Valentine's Day Fever" Lola said with a devilish smile. I frowned at her, and merciful Chris took her away, towards the make-out-hallway. I looked back at Matt "Kent" and he seemed a little bit curious. I wonder why…
"Do you?" He asked, his blue eyes electric. Was the tingle on my body already there before hearrived?
"Do I what?" What had he asked?
"Have the Valentine's Day fever, Em" He said coming a little closer so I could hear him. Were his lips as attractive as this before Lola told me he liked me?
"han… No… I…" What the hell? I was always like that during lunch with him. Nothing abnormal. FINISH THE SENTENCE EMMA. "I hate… Valentine's Day."
Kent frowned. "Do you, still?" He came a little closer. I could actually feel his minty breath on my face, and I had to look up a little, because he was taller than me.
"Uh… yeah…" Did I? Ah HELL NO! Now, what was the dang problem with me? I scooted back, to put some space between us. "On that line of thoughts,"I continued "will you be going to the Valentine's Dance?" I asked, sounding less… bubbly. Crap. I sounded like a bubbly girl.
He looked around the cafeteria, the tingling fade away. "The right person… hasn't given me a confirmation."
My shoulders dropped. Of course he'd go. How many girls would have already asked him? Who cares? He doesn't like me at all. Lola was wrong!
"Oh…" Was my sigh of disappointment. " I guess you would have to pressure her, then."
He looked back at me, and the tingle was back on. Darn it! "Do you think that would work?" He asked seeming sincere. I swallowed the not on my throat. We were friends, lab partners, it's a fair question. Even though it pinched my pride.
"If it was me… I'd need to be pressured." DANG his eyes were blue! How many times had I surprised myself looking at them during French? I actually lost count.
"Really?" He asked. I nodded.
Then… he did it. He came so close our nose tips were almost touching, his eyes were fiery on mine, our knees touching. Right now I could feel a few hateful looks from girls around the room, but I couldn't really look away. I didn't want to. "Em, what will you be doing in two days, at night?" his voice was intense, in my opinion too intense for a teenager.
"On Valentine's D…"
"No." He interrupted my question. "It's just a night." His eyes were hard on me, his proximity sent billions of electrical chocks all over me. I was a very, very, very attracted teenager.
"I'll watch a movie and… mock the... commercial holiday... that has become... Valent…"
"Wouldn't you prefernot being alone?" He interrupted me again. People don't usually do that to me. It was kind of hot.
"Wanna join me?" I whispered, because I could barely breathe, and what I was breathing smelled like mint and summer and I was dizzy as a ballerina.
"No." He said huskily. I flinched a little, looked away. OUCH. "I'll do one better." he added in his normal voice. "Come with me to the Valentine's Dance."
I was a feminist.I didn't have to say yes, I could do it on my own. I hated Valentine's Day. He was an idiot, thinking with his bad-superman looks and behavior could bend me? Ass. I would keep my tradition of not going to the stupid dance, where single girls just sit around drinking water with pigment and sugar. I whispered back: "Yeah"
And he kissed me. I totally didn't melt in his embrace. I absolutely didn't forget I had Chemestry the nest period and skipped it. I didn't spend the next hour kissing and talking and laughing of the people that bought corsages and puffy dresses... with Kent. I didn't feel the Valentine's Day hate fade away, a little bit. I wasn't with a bubbly attitude, or a silly smile or feeling lucky. I would keep my tradition of hating Valentine's Day. I'd just have to wait until next year, when all this bubblyness would wear out.
Until it was Valentine's Day again.

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#44 mem6gd

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Posted 10 February 2013 - 11:51 PM

Not Just Another Day
By Megan Moore

Around Valentine’s Day, it's easy to forget that the heart is actually shaped like a fist.

When people wake up on that special day of love and romance, they don’t picture fists. They picture hearts and doodles, warm and fuzzy baby animals.

That day, Mary woke with a start. The ceiling stared back at her, and she reflected on the upcoming day.

Working at a Hallmark store on Valentine’s Day is like working at Target the day after Thanksgiving. The men come in droves. A majority of them, amazingly pathetic, looking for the perfect card, gift and probably a new girlfriend, because the guys who wait until the day of, are the guys who are bound to piss off their girlfriend at some point because they ultimately forgot an anniversary or birthday.

However, the best part of this Valentine’s Day, was that Mary FINALLY had a boyfriend. Not once, in her long miserable little life has she had a boyfriend on this day of love, flowers, and chocolate.

The worst part? They were both working until late. Mary was only working until five, but David was working until ten. Which meant that this Valentine’s Day, which was supposed to me magical, would be spent with her mother and father…as have all the other Valentine’s Days.

The other worst part? Her boyfriend didn’t even like Valentine’s Day. It was just another day, right? No, it wasn’t another day. Mary wanted a special day. All the men who do come in, however late they do appear, at least are celebrating the day. David didn’t like it. Slightly disappointing with a mix of awkward pleading, Mary had no clue what was going to happen today, but, she was hopeful that the magic of love would prevail. So she rolled over, stared at the clock, and continued through to a day that would be wonderful.


Five o’clock came, and fifteen florist trucks drove by the store today. None of them stopped for her. When Mary got home, her dad gave her a card, and a box of chocolates, along with the standard pajama pants that her mom, sister, and Mary always got each Valentine’s Day.

She sat there silently seething at her stupid boyfriend. Her own father got her a present, but her boyfriend hadn’t texted, called, or sent flowers on their first Valentine’s Day together. He KNEW how important this was.

As the hours past, Mary grew more and more irritated with each passing moment. Who did he think he was? He knew she wanted to be loved. The stupid, cold animal. Men, animals, the lot of them.

She stood there waiting for the clock to turn to 10:03, the time when David always called Mary after he got off work. As she stood there making a first when her hand, silently contemplating what exactly she was going to say to her completely oblivious boyfriend, she heard a car door.

It’s hard to remember that the actual human heart is not what the doodles of ten year old girls on their homework. Hearts look like a human fist.

As the doorbell rang, and Mary walked towards it, her mind was in a completely other realm.

When the door opened, and she saw a pimply faced delivery man standing there, with at least a dozen roses, a frightened look on his face.

“Uh, right. Well, you see, this bouquet was left at the shop. “

“What?” Mary did not quite understand.

“Right, you see, this call came in a month ago for this bouquet, and we forgot to make it, and we found the order at the shop. Please don’t hurt me.”

Mary realized her fist was still clenched, and the pimply boy was still eying her in fear.

“What?” At the risk of sounding like a total idiot, Mary couldn’t help but repeat the word to convey her misunderstanding. David…remembered?

“Lady, I’m sorry, I know how impo-“

“Whoa, you did not just call me lady. I’m probably only a year older then you!” Wait, Mary told herself, what am I doing? Why am I bickering with the delivery boy?

“Right, sorry. I know how important Valentine’s Day is for women, and I’m sure you were upset about these flowers, and so I’m sorry lady, okay?” The boy thrusted the flowers towards her, practically dropping them at her feet, tearing off down the sidewalk. She looked down blankly at the flowers, before looking up, and looking back down.

Her phone started vibrating, she looked down and saw David calling, and looked back the flowers, still completely perplexed at what was going on. Her boyfriend called a month ago to give her flowers. She was the selfish brat who freaked out.

As she was looking from flowers to phone, feeling the giddy mix, and the slight shame, she looked up and saw David walking towards her.

“Hey, babe. Why aren’t you answering?”

“Oh. Well, I got your flowers.” She lamely held them up, showing them, and she felt like a major goober. “I thought you were working until ten.”

“I got off a little early. Do you like the flowers?”

“Oh, they are wonderful, sweetheart.” She leaned up and hugged him, feeling slightly like a fool for being upset. About a present. Isn’t it the love that matters?

“Well, I’m glad you liked them. Did you read the card?” David looked excited. As a man of very few words, his excitement felt a little thrilling, so Mary tore open the card, and her heart might have actually melted a bit.


“For some, it’s just another day. For others, it’s a Tuesday. And for the rest, it’s Valentine’s Day. Either way, I’m glad you’re mine.
Love you, David”

With those words, any thoughts of fists and hearts flew out the window, as she happily dwelled on her first successful Valentine’s Day in love. Not only that, the warm hug she was currently enjoying reminded her that Valentine’s Day wasn’t ALL about the material things…but rather the magic of true love.

Mary: 1, Valentine’s Day: 24...and she was going to catch up one of these days.
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#45 stelladoll

stelladoll

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Posted 12 February 2013 - 10:29 PM

Favorites: Keep Dreaming and Brown Mouse.
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