un souvenir d'une Saint-Valentin...
well, Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and unfortunately, I am without someone to spend it with. ::sigh:: know anyone?
my first official livejournal story follows. please comment!
meaningless
It was Valentine's Day, and these eighth graders were living it up. Chaos swarmed through the hallways, yelling and stampeding on its way to its next class. Not that they could even be considered classes, compared to what they would be faced with in their upcoming years. But they didn't care, they were adults now and could handle anything.
Many of the thirteen year old girls (who valued looking cute above all else) were exchanging valentines. Just little handwritten notes, often on handmade cards; those themed card packs they sell at CVS were much too... un-stylish. So they exchanged their meaningless valentines with one another, reciprocating the gesture with a meaningless hug. Few handed out candy, because rumor had it candy would make you fat.
The boys had outgrown that sort of thing, of course. They were much too cool to endanger their reputations by publicly sharing their feelings. A few of the more good-looking, macho guys gave a present to a certain someone. A teddy bear. A box of chocolates. Meaningless. They'd probably split from the person within a few months.
The other macho boys, the ones without that certain someone, handed out candy; an attempt at appeasing everyone; another meaningless gesture. Free candy? That's free cool points for you, buddy.
He was handing out candy, although he was certainly not macho, by any means. His offerings were from a large bag of sweet tart hearts, specially made for Valentine's Day. They were perfect: small, tasty treats that could be given out easily. Sure, he wasn't handing out entire Nerds Ropes that so-and-so rumored to be handing out, but his Sweet Tart Hearts were pretty damn good.
His hand-outs weren't meaningless. He didn't want to rack up any cool points, he was just a nice guy. Friends with anyone who wanted to be friends with him. He honestly didn't care about looking cool, he just liked to see the smile that appeared on his recipients' faces and the hug, despite how meaningless, he'd receive in return.
It was lunch time, and everyone had woken up. The cafeteria was host to the full-out riots that had erupted from the chaos. Food was flying, teachers were running, kids were ducking. They no longer waited to be dismissed to recess, as per the usual custom, but instead just got up and left. Games of 4-square, wall ball, and tag were started immediately. They milled about for the whole 10 minutes of freedom they had left.
The bell rang, marking the start of the 4th of 6 periods. He had french. Ahh... surprise surprise, their teacher had been in a car accident--her 5th one. He doubted it was her driving; everyone hated her. She was terrible. So it was a relief that she was out when they were the most uproarious. A relief, until he saw the substitute.
"As your teacher is not in today, we will be watching Muzzy," she began. She held up the tape to prove that they would indeed be taught by a blue, furry monster with an absurd grin for an entire hour.
"That's german!" piped up a student.
"No shouting out! I know it's German, your library doesn't have it in French." Laughter filled the room. She became flustered.
The teacher was a large, middle-aged woman who had the largest, reddest hair. She talked with a harsh accent that sounded like a mix of German and Irish. He never learned her real name, but her former students referred to her as The Nazi, a nickname she well deserved.
"NO CANDY!" she screeched at the students, red-faced. Unfortunately, few of them were listening, as she had completely lost control of the class.
But what could she expect? It was Valentine's Day! Half the class had candy. They hadn't learned anything that day. What on earth made her think she could convince a bunch of chatty "adults" to watch a German-speaking cartoon character?
She had to do something. This wasn't the way to run a class. At least, according to her. So she picked up the trash can and walked past the first row of desks until she was in front of him.
"Give me them!" she spat.
"Give you w-what?" he replied, startled.
"Your candy. Give it to me."
Slowly, he handed her his precious bag of sweet tart hearts, still more than half full. She snatched it from him. "This is what happens to those who don't listen," she yelled. All talking had ceased. Funny, what grabs people's attention.
With the trashcan still being held in her other hand, she slowly inverted the bag of candy, inches from his face. A few candy hearts dropped from the bag through the hole he had cut in one end. Even more slowly, she began to shake the bag, up and down. He watched as both the candy hearts and his own heart plummeted into the trashcan.