A Single Rose (a Valentine's Story)

Chapter 1

I walked through the crowded hallways, my head down and my hands tucked into my comfortable, oversized, navy-blue hoodie.

Around me I could see the usual plethora of people. Couples were especially obnoxious, and stood out like a rash on a nettle, especially so today as they exchanged chocolates, teddy bears and gross, sloppy kisses.

Rolling my eyes, I continued to make my way through all the hubbub, passing under a banner which exclaimed, in curly, pink font,
"Happy Valentine's Day!"

I winced as I passed some guy serenading a girl, trying miserably to imitate Ed Sheeran, but sounding more like a dying cat screeching the words to "Perfect".

Elsewhere, a girl with a face absolutely caked with makeup was batting her fake eyelashes as she woefully recited a few lines from 'Romeo and Juliet,' massacring it so badly that I was sure Shakespeare was rolling in his grave.

Whilst passing a guy playing the ukulele and singing "Riptide", and actually not completely ruining it, I spied a blushing girl slipping a note into someone's locker whilst everyone was distracted by the chaotic whirlwind of activity.

I sighed as I turned the corner, only to see a gaggle of guys practically drooling over little Miss "Perfect", Michelle Bishop, and begging her to be their Valentine.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust as Justin, one of the more ape-like of the group, tried to seductively whisper in her ear (but sounding more like a chain smoker with a cold),
"C'mon baby. Don't you want to be my Queen?"

Baby? Gross.

Michelle just giggled as she soaked up the attention of all her admirers, loving how everyone's eyes were on her.
I scoffed. What did they see in her? She may seem to appear beautiful on the outside, but inside she is ugly as hell. Yet the guys always seem to be blinded to her true nature, always buying into her perfect little angel act.

No thank you, I thought to myself as I continued to walk through the halls.

For some people, Valentine's Day is one of the best days of the year. And by "some people" I mean those girls and guys who actually have a 'love' life and romantic interests, or are single but have friends who made cute little 'gal-entines' cards for each other. 
Then you have people like me.
I hate Valentine's Day. All the Public Displays of Affection (PDA for short) gross me out. But, to be honest... it's also because, deep down inside, Valentine's Day reminds me of just how alone I am.

I gave a short, quiet, bitter laugh. No guy has ever expressed any interest in me. Ever.
But I didn't really blame them. After all, who on earth could possibly love quiet, stupid, ugly Emily Stone? Heck, I didn't even like myself. So why would anyone else?

I faltered, slowing down a bit, trying to swallow back the tears that threatened to emerge. I don't even have any friends to exchange dorky cards with or make fun of Valentine's Day.

Ugh. I hate Valentine's D-

Suddenly a force hit me as some person rushing past slammed into me. If this had been a fairy tale, a handsome guy would have caught me and looked at me with concern in his eyes, asking if I was okay. But, in harsh reality, an angry voice yelled,
"Watch it!" And its owner stomped off.

I fell onto the hard floor, my books spilling out of my arms and my phone bouncing out of my hand and sliding away. As I scrambled to grab all of my loose items which had escaped, not one person offered to help, no dashing prince rushed to my rescue. Instead, a little bit behind me, I faintly heard Michelle's cruel, perfect laughter, and her pack of hyenas cackled along with her. Another girl walking past muttered to her friend,
"What a clutz."

Feeling myself redden with shame, I grabbed the last few fallen items, and scooched past everyone, fleeing to my locker. My tears now making my vision all hazy as I tried to pull together the pieces of my broken heart and keep myself from breaking down.

At last, I reached my destination, which was, thankfully, not as crowded as the rest of the hallway. I allowed myself a few deep, shuddering gasps, before looking up at my locker and automatically reaching for my lock.

I froze, my hand still reaching in front of me. Through my blurred vision, I saw something red and green tied to my lock.

I hastily drew back my hand and wiped away the veil of tears covering my eyes, gaping at what appeared to be a single rose.