They say "All good boys go to Heaven."
But bad boys bring Heaven to you.
***
Emory Watts, dressed in all black, walked down the corridor to her first period English, gagging at the horrible Valentine's Day decorations. Bright Horizons High School went all out for such holidays, and Emory couldn't stand it. It was the week of Valentine's Day —Friday actually being Valentine's Day—, so every teacher and student dressed and decorated in pink and red. Emory got to class and plopped down in her seat.
"Hey, Em, can I copy your chemistry homework." Brian said. Brian was cute enough, but used the girls in school for sex and schoolwork. Emory wadded up her homework and threw it across the room, "Go fetch." Brian turned bright red, but picked up the homework, mumbling under his breath. "What's got you in such a bitchy mood." Sarah, Emorys friend, said as she walked past her. "Like you can't tell." Emory retorted.
"Alright class! Last week you got to chose to send flowers to the person of your choice, and here's principal Bradbury bringing them now!" Our English teacher Ms. Reynolds said ecstatically. Bradbury went around handing bouquets of different colored flowers to different students. Emory had no doubt in her mind she wasn't going to get any, until he sat down a huge bouquet of red roses. Everyone in the class turned around and snickered. They knew she was a loner, and that no one in their right minds should like her. She picked up the card attached and it read "Lover, Come over, 1683 Easton Street." Emory snorted, she was curious about who lived there, but she knew she was never going to actually go.
Sitting there, in pure misery, Emory stared at the flowers, "What am I supposed to do with these?" Continuously rolled through her mind. Jumping at the sound of the bell, ending first hour, she irrationally picked up the flowers and threw them away, scowling.
***
Emory wasn't going to lie to herself, the idea of having someone notice her made her heart jump, and for that she hated herself. She had sporadic friends here and there, but she preferred to be independently alone. And she didn't see the issue with it.
Throughout the day, the image of the card was burned into her mind, like it was teasing her. "Damn whoever started this shit." She thought to herself. Emory felt like love was overrated, and that Romeo was full of shit. He didn't even love Juliet. Not really.
At lunch she sat under a oak tree, the cool February breeze were making the branches shake. It was a considerably nice day for February, especially in Texas. Hot summers and even colder winters.
Emory looked up and saw two doves resting in the tree above her head. "Fuck it," she thought to herself, "I want to know who this dude is."
YOU ARE READING
Lover, Come Over
Romance16 year old Emory Watts has never had a Valentine, and it's not because of the lack of suitors. She doesn't understand the ins and outs of a toxic relationship. Does she let go? Or hang on? Is it really for better or worse?
