February 14

It was February 14, my least favorite day of the year. Flowers were being passed from boys to girls, and chocolate from girls to boys. There were pink streamers hanging from the ceiling, and pink balloons covering the bleak gray tiles that spanned from wall to wall. The walls themselves were covered with posters advertising the Valentine’s Day dance on Friday, February 14.



Girls would shuffle through the halls in packs and giggle at every boy who passed, causing a huge uproar between classes, when they frequently blocked the corridors, therefore causing the students to miss the bell.



The popular girls had taken over control of the annual dance, and the few boys on the decorating committee would exit the gym looking slightly green at the end of every day. It would take a full two weeks before the gym was ready for the crowds of eager girls and reluctant boys would crowd into the room to dance and fraternize with the opposite sex.



“Mr. Qwilleran, what is the-“ My teacher, Mrs. Duncan, started to ask me as my eyes snapped back to attention. I had been gazing idly at one of the many posters decorated with gaudy pink plastic hearts, advertising the ball tonight.



“If you’re asking for the answer, its 45 squared.” I interrupted smoothly.



“Correct,” She growled, glaring at me. Even though the school boasted of equality, and an anti-bully environment, it was nothing of the sort. There were cliques, dorks, bullies, and every other type of student you found in the average middle school. She picked me out of the entire student body and labeled me as the “trouble-maker”.



“Of course I am,” I smirked, and going back to looking at the gaudy pink hearts plastered to the wall, glanced a look of irritation flicker across Mrs. Duncan’s old, wrinkled face, and my smirk grew more pronounced.



The rest of class went fairly smooth, seeing as she could have given me detention again.  Passing back one of her pop quizzes from last Thursday, she whispered to me, “I’ll be watching for you at the dance tonight,” before she gave me another glare and continued passing the tests out.



After Math in 1st period, I headed for the locker rooms down the hall and to the right. All the 6th grade classes were clustered around the gym, which meant that when the 8th graders had to do weight lifting, we were stuck with the smell of dirty gym socks until someone went through all the rooms and opened the windows.



Arriving at the locker rooms, I bolted for the door, narrowly escaping a cluster of girls hovering next to the door. They had been a gang of stereotypical blonde playboys who had no doubt been giggling about the dance. It was the only subject discussed by anyone until the entire fiasco would finally be over.



The locker rooms were a miserable sight. The walls were made up of the same bleak grey tiles as the floor, and the lockers that lined the left wall were the same faded, boring shade of blue-tinged grey.. The showers were in a circular area that branched off to the right, and the water looked almost brown against the tiles.



Other boys were milling around, guffawing stupidly at each other as they snapped their towels like whips and bragged about their dates for tonight.