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Eliza Lynn Taylor

Eliza Lynn Taylor
Eliza Lynn Taylor Freelance Writer

Monday, February 8, 2016

Red Hot Valentine



Bess sat at her desk and sighed. “Cynthia, do you know what I miss about elementary school?” She pushed her large glasses up a little on the bridge of her nose.

“I can’t imagine,” Cynthia answered. “I am so glad to be graduating this year and getting out of here I can barely stand it.”

“There is that,” Bess said. “It’s Valentine’s day in a couple days. In elementary school everyone got a card, several actually. It was forced, but so what? No one was left out. Once you get to the upper grades nothing. Not one.”

Cynthia started laughing. “Do you want me to give you one?” 

“Asks the girl who gets one from nearly every guy in the class. No, I do not want a pity Valentine from my best friend. I want a genuine Valentine from a guy who is interested in me. But since I am not a knock out beauty, or a cheerleader, or any of that other popular girl stuff, it isn’t going to happen.”

“Bess, you are not ugly. We have an unusual ratio of girls to boys here. When a new one shows up, girls act like sharks to blood. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance,” Cynthia pointed out with a chuckle. 

“I noticed. That’s why I stand back out of the way. I don’t stand a chance.”

“Stop being so negative! You’re actually quite pretty under those glasses. I know you can’t wear contacts, but you might try a little makeup once in a while. They won’t even notice those giant frames,” Cynthia told her.

“You can hardly miss them. Anyway, maybe college will be different.” She tried to look hopeful and smiled.

“You just wait. I’ll bet someone will see you for who you are. Prom is coming up in a couple months,” Cynthia reminded her. 

“Tell me about it. I’ll probably just sit it out like last year. I will not go stag!”

The bell rang and the girls gathered their books and moved out into the throng of students making their way to their next classes, stopping at their lockers to exchange books and greeting friends along the hallway. 

One boy watched from behind his locker door at Bess and Cynthia as they disappeared behind a classroom door. He slammed his door shut and leaned his head against the cold metal. “Just a couple days left,” he muttered and jumped as one of his friends cupped his shoulder on the way by. He looked up at the other boy who had turned and grinned at him motioning him to get to class. He did that a lot. 

“So, did you ask her yet?” Jerry asked Sam as he pulled his text book out of his backpack.
“She is way out of my league,” Sam said. 

“Why don’t you let her be the judge of that?” Jerry said, giving him a slug in the arm. “The prom is coming up. If you don’t ask her someone else might beat you to it.”

Sam grinned a lopsided grin. “Maybe I’ll give her one of those goofy valentines. I think my mom kept some of my leftovers.”

Jerry snorted. “Dude, no!” He lowered his voice when his classmates turned to stare at him. “No Ninja Turtles. We are way too old for that.”

Sam nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess we are. I’ll come up with something.”

Valentine’s Day arrived and girls were finding cards stuffed in their lockers and placed on their desks. A few had flowers and some had red velvet heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Bess and Cynthia walked into their history class chatting about all the cards Cynthia had accumulated.

“Oh, look, someone put it on the wrong desk,” Bess said, lifting a handcrafted envelope off her desk and handing it to Bess.

“Thanks,” Cynthia said taking the envelope. She read the front and handed it back. “Actually, this one is for you.”

“What?” Bess grabbed it, a shocked look on her face. She read the front and stared at it with her eyes wide.

“Don’t just stare it. Open it! It’s kind of heavy for a card,” she added.

Bess nodded. She turned it over and carefully lifted the edge. “I think it’s edible,” she said. She pulled it out slowly. It was made of heavy white paper with a red paper lace doily in the shape of a heart. The center had cinnamon heart-shaped red hots attached with a small amount of icing. She opened it up.

Cynthia read it out loud over her shoulder and burst out laughing. “To a girl who is as hot as the candy! Be my Valentine. Sincerely, Sam Johnston.” 

Bess turned red and then she smiled. “He’s in trig with us. He sits two seats down. I like him.”

Bess hugged her friend. “Prom date!” she exclaimed.