My Dearest Little Abby

Chapter 1: Valentine's Day

Chapter 1: Valentine's Day


February 14, 1999. The worst day of the year (at least for me): Valentine's Day. The day of flowers, hearts, and chocolates. And of course, spending time with the one you love. Ironically, it was this day eight years ago that I first kissed a girl and I haven't done it since. It was an intimate kiss, our tongues were touching!

But I'm just reminiscing.

It's never really bothered me that I didn't have a girlfriend....except for the reason why! I'm not that unattractive, but every time I would ask out a girl, she would reject me or say that she already had a boyfriend.

My dad always told me that I didn't need a girlfriend.

"Believe me, you're better off without one" , he would say. "You'll never have a minute to yourself; they'll always want you to spend time with them, and they'll get offended at even the tiniest thing you do."

He would then list about 500 reasons why I shouldn't want a girlfriend. But I still wanted one, despite everything he said. I wanted to know what it would feel like to hold a girls hand. I wasn't sure if I'd ever know.

School particularly sucked on Valentine's Day. All day long I get to watch boyfriends and girlfriends hold hands and make out between classes. As if they didn't do that every single day anyway. It didn't bother me. I would just keep my head up and wait for seventh period English. My favorite class of the day. Not just because it was the last class of the day and the only class I was really good at, but because I finally got to see Stephanie.

Stephanie was the living stereotype of the hottest girl in school. She was blond and had bright blue eyes with small bits of glitter around them. She seemed to always be smiling, as if everything was all right in her life. It was clearly obvious that she had a crush on me, but I couldn't just ask her out. She had a boyfriend named Brett. Yet still she would flirt with me, usually tapping my shoulder in various flirty ways.

We met on the first day of school when I was assigned to sit next to her. When we met she smiled brightly at me and said "hi". I said "hi" back. Then she asked me my name and we spent the next five minutes talking. She became my closest friend in school.

Seventh period finally arrived and I walked in the room and found my seat. Stephanie joined me minutes later.

"Hi, Brad,"  she said to me with her usual bright smile.
"Hey, Stephanie,"  I said as she sat down.
"That Algebra test was so hard," she said with large emphasis on the "so".
"Oh yeah, it was."
"I hope I passed."
"So do I."
"Thanks for tutoring me, by the way." 
"Um...oh....it was no problem."

Class began about a minute later, which ended our flirt talk. The teacher, Mrs. Dolly sipped some cold coffee and began to write on the board. Her real name was Mrs. Dolerstein, but she wanted us to call her "Mrs. Dolly". She was one of my weirder teachers I've ever had. She kept one cup of coffee all day, which was hot in the morning but got cold in the afternoon. Even though it was cold, she still drank it without a problem. Most people hate cold coffee. She would also yell in someone's ear if they fell asleep in her class and make us do push ups for talking or passing notes. 

On the board, she wrote in huge letters "BOOK REPORT". The class was dumbfounded. Book report? When was the last time we did one of those? Fourth grade?

"You have a book report, class," Mrs. Dolly said, though it was clearly obvious.
"I know it's not something you've done in a long while, but it is quite an effective way to further your reading comprehension, and don't forget that reading comprehension will be on your final exams."
The class groaned.
"It can be any book of your choice, but the report must be three pages long, double spaced."

The class groaned even more.
"Oh, hush with you!" Mrs. Dolly scolded. She always seemed to say that.

"What book are you going to choose, Brad?" Stephanie asked after class.
"Um....uh...I don't know yet."
"Well, I do."
"What is it?"
Her book was called Bridge To Terebithia, one of her favorite books. I eventually chose the popular book Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone.

After school I walked to the parking lot and drove home. I drive a 1987 Cadillac that I got for my 16th birthday. Despite being over ten years old, the car wasn't too shabby. The air conditioning and radio worked perfectly, and the car ran smoothly. It was a bright, crimson color and there was no rust on any inch of it.

When I got home, mom and dad were getting all dressed up.

"I'm taking your mother out tonight," my dad said when I walked in the house.
"We're going to dinner, then an opera."

"Opera?" I asked. They had never been to an opera before.
"That's right," my mom said, entering the room in a fancy blue dress. "We'll be back around nine. Will you be fine by yourself?"

"Of course, mom," I said. "It's not like I'm a kid anymore."
She smiled and then slipped a 20-dollar bill in my hand.
"Here's a twenty. Buy yourself some McDonald's or something."

I rolled my eyes.
"Sure."

They left about ten minutes later, and I was all alone. Usually I didn't mind being home alone. Usually....but not today. Not Valentine's Day.

I thought about Stephanie and what she was doing. She told me she was going out with her boyfriend. Just like everyone else at school. And here I am at home alone with no one but Mr. Andrew Jackson here in my hand.

I put the twenty in my pocket and went into the kitchen for a soda. I noticed that either mom or dad had gotten the mail, and it was stacked on the counter. I went through the letters, most of them being bills and whatever. However, to my surprise, there was one that was for me. There was a letter with my name on it. The return address identified the letter from being from the Organization of Youth Writers and Artists---OYWA.

I took my soda and clenched a bag of chips in my teeth, then walked upstairs to read my letter.