Race Me, Cupid [COMPLETE]

7

          Getting closer to the holiday, the halls were decorated with red and pink hearts, club posters advertising Valentine's Day activities, streamers, and other cheesy propaganda. School clubs were selling roses, sugar cookies and pink cupcakes at the main school lounge and students were buying them for each other. Campus wasn't sickeningly sweet, but the couples that spent their passing period or break blocks for PDA were a little more public than usual.

          The last time Angel got anything for Valentine's Day was in elementary school. It was the store bought Valentine's cards that came with candy and the printed "To/From" on the corners. Back when him being shy was cute.

          Angel opened his locker for his routine exchange of books. He didn't like carrying things in his hands, or too many unneeded books, it made him feel like he had too much work to turn in. He set his phone on the small shelf space at the top of the locker in case his mom called but as he reached up there he felt a piece of paper poke him.

          Fuck, did he forget an assignment?

          It was an envelope. He placed his things down on the ground and in the locker to open it. He hadn't seen this in there earlier today. He moved the door as if to close it and noticed the shelf lined up with the ventilation holes at the top. Someone must have slipped it in because no one knew the combination to his personal lock. The school let anyone use these lockers, students just had to bring their own lock.

          He opened it. It was a written note.

'When our eyes locked the last time we were around each other it moved me to do something I've never done before. To write a letter and be absolutely honest at any cost. Call it cowardly but it's the one way I could be blunt. I have so much to say.

I could start by saying I like watching you run. It's hard because our responsibilities clash so I can only watch from afar or maybe just a few steps behind you where you seem to never catch me.

Ah, that sounds off putting doesn't it? I'm not hiding from you or spying. I don't try to. Funny enough, I'm right in front of you. You're always just one nod, one turn, one corner, one blink short from meeting my gaze. Maybe you've met it but not in the way I look at you. I probably made it obvious since we've met or maybe someone told you, but I hope one day you turn around and run to me. And look at me with the same feelings I have.

          This couldn't be for him. Someone must have popped it into the wrong locker. Not too many people used them, just regulars like him. There was a girl next to him who would leave art supplies, books or sports equipment in the neighboring locker every other week. It was probably meant for her.

'Could that be enough for you, Angel?'

          Or not. His face was painted bright red as he anxiously read, surprised that anyone wasted their time on him. The letter was formatted like a poem, the structure was flowery and romantic, and the handwriting was in neat cursive.

'I hope you don't mind my forwardness. I want to tell you everything without the fear of fragmenting what we could have.

But I need to know if it's okay for me to send letters to you. My only condition is that my identity will be a secret. Just for the time. But if this makes you uncomfortable in any way: say the word and I'll bend to your will.

I warn you if you say yes my restraint won't be as easy in the next few letters. You'll be subject to my written confessions. It's so easy to spill the secrets of the universe when I don't have your eyes on mine to make me crumble.

You don't have to write me anything back. Just tell me if this is okay. Locker 23. Code: 02-14-21

There's so much to look forward to with you if you'll let me.'

          Steam could almost be visibly seen coming up and off his face. No one had ever said those kinds of things to him before. It was so...dulce. Like it was written with a fountain pen and dipped in honey for ink.

          He read it again with a frown, beginning to sulk hurt. Who was playing this sick prank? It wasn't funny. They were in college, this bullshit was childish. It was most likely the team but he was under the impression that he was relatively successful at keeping himself under the radar for anyone to go this far.

          His heart rate went up thinking about if this were genuine and then if it wasn't. Memories of high school, anxiety attacks, the stress...

          "What's that?"

          Venus leaned closer over his arm to read it. Lightening fast he closed it, crumpling it, and shoved it in his backpack.

          "Nothing"

          She laughed, tucked some of her long braids behind her ear, and tried to take it back out, "Too late. I read some of it. Awww, babe, is it from Carson? He's here with me"

          He zipped up his bag to wear it, "It's a dumb joke"

          Carson came through the lounge entrance  grinning and stood closely to him, "Hey, Venus, hey Angel. I set up a time to meet on Saturday and work on the event. Is six good for you? Afternoon?"

          Angel coughed awkwardly, "Sure, I can make it. Might be a lil' late though. I'll do any of the hard stuff or messy shit to make up for it"

          "That's fine, as long as you're there"

          He looked away, too flushed in the face from thinking about the letter.

          "Who do you think will get picked for the date?" He asked.

          "Jeremiah" said Venus and Angel in sync.

          "Dude, you should see the posts they have on him. No matter who wins, the chances of someone getting a shot at a date with him are slim. The thirsty comments under his gym selfies?" She pulled up Jeremiah's account, they were following each other. Angel didn't have social media. None. Even his mom was way more into it than he was. Plus, no friends also meant having no one to follow.

          She quickly flicked upwards once to rapid scroll through the comments. There was a surprising amount of rain drop emojis, hearts and eggplants...wow.

          "He's hot as fuck. I'll give him that" She stated, admiring a picture of him from their senior homecoming with a group of his old friends.

          Carson shrugged and messed with Angel's brown hair, "Hm, maybe our Angel will get picked"

           Angel was oblivious of most things but he could tell Carson had been flirting. And a lot of him lined up with the letter. They'd just met, he knew he ran track and was very subtly coming onto him. Could he have written it?