Chapter #4Valentines Day by: Unknown You are Daniel Johnson, an average 16-year old male highschool student. Average build, average height, average face, average everything. If you had worked for a movie-company you would have been hired as a crowd-extra instantly because of your ability to melt into any group of people like a shadow.
But you did have one distinguishing feature, you wore spectacles. Unlike the norm, where you would have been classified as nerdy, your glasses accented your already sharp eyes giving you a distinguished look and an air of intelligence. It had earned you the nickname of "Professor", a title used far more out of respect from your peers than out of degradation, for you were quite clever.
You were the youngest person in your school's history to have completed the International Advanced Program of Mathematics at this point in age; your academic future looked bright. And for this you represented the school's mathematics club; yes, a most boring and unimpressive position to your friends, but to your employers of the future a goldmine.
Today was Valentines day, a traditional school holiday, which was why you were walking to the mall instead of the schoolgrounds.
The reason: your idiot friend Jake was dumped yesterday afternoon, the very day before Valentines day, and now like so many times before, you've been called to cheer up the fool whilst he sulked.
You shake your head; it had started a week ago.
Megan, the cheerleading captain, had asked your friend Jake to be her valentine-sweetheart. He had of course agreed immediately, without a second thought.
Now you hated Megan with a passion. For you had always thought that the so called 'popular' arch villains in chick-flicks, whom were the most shallow, airheaded and bimbolike were retardedly overly steriotypically characterised. That no women in reality could be so without depth. Until you met Megan of course: she was nothing short of a bitch. You absolutely despised both her, her treatment of others and her hideous overuse of the word "totally" in every single bloody sentence she uttered.
You had warned Jake not to take her up; that she was trouble. But he of course ignored you and accused you of coming between his relationship, of not being happy for him, for bla bla bla, a whole lot of other things someone brainwashed would say.
You had predicted that she was taking Jake for a fast one, none paid you any attention, the main reason being that you had no valentines date of your own, that you were being a jealous sure prune.
You didn't care to correct them. You could care less what others thought. The truth was that you also had a date earlier with your childhood friend Cindy; even though neither of you were lovers, for she did have a sweetheart of her own in another town, you two still wanted to treat one another nicely for the day. Yet you were also dumped 3 days earlier, but Cindy had a valid excuse, her granmother had passed away, today was burial. You took it in good humour. Not the same for Jake and Megan; he was devastated.
You regret having been proved right when yesterday you had heard Megan made quite a show in from of a lot of others, humiliating poor Jake, whom had brought her flowers and chocolates and various other gifts, by announcing that she had no intention of going out with a 'loser' such as him, and would instead go out with Gunther, the Football-captain. You heard poor Jake was thoroughly mocked. Strangely enough, last night Gunther had called you asking for Jake to apologise, he didn't know about Jake and Megan and wanted to say personally that he was sorry. You just despised Megan even more.
You sighed as you walked, now almost to the mall. You weren't annoyed at Jake for not listening to you earlier or even having to cheer him up, for he was a good sort at heart. No. What pissed you off was Jake's inabillity to let things go. Last night Jake visited you, past bloody 9-o clock too, and announced with pride that he had found the solution to both your problems. Apparently the imbecile had waddled through the flea-market in his depression when a gypsy had stopped him. According to Jake she looked every bit the part of a witch, but had had a friendly goofy toothless grin, and had told him that she could solve his sadness with some powerful magical artefacts. She had sold him 2 arm bracelets, stating that the wearers would obtain the presence of their own ideal sweethearts and that.....
Oh for the love of sweet mercy! You couldn't believe your friend Jake could have been swindled into buying such useless crap; to make it worse he appeared to have paid a vast sum too. Jake had always held a fascination with the supernatural, fortunetelling and Horoscopes, whilst you - with your analytical mathematical mind - could never be persuaded to believe in something that couldn't be explained without numbers or facts.
You just shake your head looking at the ugly silver bracelet you now wore on your on your left forearm, Jake had whined until you had agreed to wear the piece of junk, apparently the lack of a girlfiriend on your part not bothering you not getting to him; a dragon and other unidentifyable mythical beasts decorated it. Well so far buggerall had happened, which was probably why Jake had called you to your favorite Cafe, to help him get over his back-up plan failing. The idiot. Still, you couldn't leave him hanging
As you entered the town-mall, you rubbed your chest, for it felt swollen and irritated, but you paid it no mind, as you exited the early morning sun and into the synthetic lights of the mall interior, eager to get to your friend Jake.
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