Ah, Valentines Day. The day where love is in the air and everyone is full of happiness.
Yeah, wish I was feeling like that.
I have been alone on this day every single year. By myself, single...you get the point. Of course my friends all give me cute little valentines, but do any boys? No.
I don’t know why no boy likes me. Is it because I’m just a little shy? Or is it the fact that I’m an outcast?
I can not stand going to school on this day. I hate all those pink balloons that say ‘I love you’ and I despise all those fluffy stuffed animals. There is way too much pink for me this time of year.
Every single year I get my hopes up thinking maybe, just maybe I’ll get one little rose or a nice piece of chocolate from my crush. But no, that doesn’t happen for me. I just want to feel like those other girls on this day. I don't want to spend it alone.
It’s such a bum when they pass out the roses during the first period of school. All those squeals of excitement and sighs of pleasure, ugh, I just can’t take it!
So today I’m not getting my hopes up. I’m not going to set myself up for disappointment. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I’ll walk into first period and act like I’m better than all that frilly crap.
I walk in and sit at my back row seat. Yes, I sit in the back. I'm not one for attention.
Girls file in, each one of them squeaking. I almost think I might lose my hearing. So I lay my head on the desk and block out all the noise. Could teenage girls get any more annoying?
Yes, yes they could. I would just forget about the other stuff they screech at.
I’m about to fall asleep when I get a tap on my shoulder. I give a start. Usually people leave me alone and don't ever bother me. This was a bit unusual.
I look up and there’s the teacher, Mrs. Smith. She’s holding out two red roses. I cock my eyebrow at her.
“For you,” she says and hands them to me. I take them and look at the little tag that tells who the flowers are from.
Jared.
No, it couldn’t be. Not him. Not the most beautiful person on the planet.
I double-check the tag. Yep, I read right.
I glance around the classroom. No one was noticing my disbelief. They were all too busy chattering over their flowers and who they got them from.
I look back down at the roses. Why would he send me them? He would know that I hadn’t gotten anything, ever, on Valentines Day. Did he feel pity on me?
Or maybe someone is playing a joke on me. It’s probably Kenneth and his jokester self. That idiot, always trying to pull a prank on me.
I didn’t know what was true, but I did know that I had liked him ever since kindergarten. He had befriended me.
I was a lonely little girl back then. I had no friends since I was new to the elementary school. He had just decided to come and talk to me and we hit it off.
I had no clue that he liked me. In fact, I didn’t know anyone liked me.
My heart swells at this thought. I would only know for sure after first period when I would see him next and my stomach gives a flutter.
When the bell rings, I walk slowly out of class. I don’t want to look too rushed, I mean, what would Jared think?
When I get to my second period’s front door, I pause. I don’t know why I’m making myself look good but I know I’m nervous as heck.
I’m ready, so I walk in, my head down, and stumble to my seat. Me being the lucky one that I am, sit next to Jared this period. I see his brown hair from the corner of my eye and my heart races.
The roses are in my hand and I set them on my desk. I scoot into my seat and twirl my hair. I only do this when I’m nervous.
I hear Jared clear his throat and his feet shuffle. I turn my head a little and flick my eyes to his face.
He’s staring at me. I quickly turn away and I feel my face go up in flames. I hear him chuckle and I blush a little more.
Mr. Swazouski starts his lecture and I fiddle with the leaves on the roses. I want to look at Jared so bad but I’m afraid of being disappointed. I don’t want to be rejected by him.
As the lecture goes on, I begin to sweat. Jared isn’t saying anything. That could mean either one, he didn’t get me the roses, two, he’s too nervous to talk, or three, he has become mute by aliens from Mars that have surgically removed his voice by their weird utensil things. Very unlikely that numero three would happen, but maybe one or two.
I soon give up any hope that he likes me and once again go on hating Valentines Day. I’m sure it was a joke played by my friends and will forever hate them for it. I’m sure they all have valentines on this oh so glorious day.
I’m brought out of my hate filled thoughts by a tap on the shoulder. What was it with people today and them tapping on my shoulder?
But those thoughts disappeared when I turned to find that Jared had tapped me. I feel myself melt under that green-eyed gaze of his.
He clears his throat again and a blush comes to his cheeks.
“Hey, Amelia?” he whispers. We glance at the teacher, but he is still going on about something to do with monkeys and humans. I turn back to him.
“Yeah?” I whisper back. My heart is thudding in my ears and I can barely breathe. He bites his lip and looks down at his hands.
“Be mine?” Jared asks, looking up at me through thick lashes. My breathing stops and I stare at him. Did he just ask that? Does he really mean that?
I take a deep breath and try to get my answer out. All I can say is “Really?” I feel like a total idiot. Of course he is for real.
He nods and peeks at the two roses on my desk.
Should I say yes? Would I be disappointed like three years ago when I actually went up to a guy I liked? Would he one day brush me off and never talk to me again? Well, I might as well go on and have a little fun in life.
I smile. “Of course.”
His smile is breathtaking and my heart feels as if it is bound to have a cardiac arrest. I blush and hope that no one hears my seemingly loud heart.
Jared. He actually asked me out. Someone finally has thought of me on Valentines Day. I feel ecstatic and want to scream like all those other girls.
I have never felt happier in my life than this moment. Not even getting my first iPod could surpass this moment. It would always be etched into my mind.
As soon as class was let out, Jared comes to my side. He swoops down and places a kiss on my cheek. The feel of his lips on my skin is amazing and I want more. I turn my head and catch him off guard. I place my lips on his. Our lips move in sync and I can feel a warmth grow in my stomach.
“Ms. Stanley, Mr. Hill,” Mr. Swazouski calls. We break apart. My lips feel swollen and I’m sure the tomato coloring on my cheeks will never go away.
Jared grabs my hand and we rush out of the room, never glancing back at our teacher.
When we get out into the halls, Jared stops to look at me. His smile is brighter than the sun. I am sure my smile mirrors his.
“Thank you,” I say, brushing a stray piece of hair that fell into his eyes. An adorable look of confusion flits across his features.
“Why?” he asks, holding my hand to his cheek.
“Because you were the first to give me these,” I lift up the flowers, “and you were the first one to do this.” And I kiss him. I feel him smile against my lips.
“Well, you’re quite welcome, Valentine.” Jared says, looking at me with something that looks like love in his eyes. My heart soars at that possibility.
We walk hand in hand toward our third period class. I sense the astonishment on my friends faces as Jared and I walk by. I just smile widely and squeeze Jared’s hand. He squeezes it back and we continue on to third period.
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