Notes Of A Love Stricken Dork

Not Enrolled in the School of Romance

"Anne-Marie!" Ben puts up his hands for a high five. I slap it half-heartedly; I still don't really want to go on this date with him but since I don’t have a spine, I’ll probably end up going.

Ben blabbers on all the way to biology about the date that I’m not even interested in.

“Do you think a romance or a thriller for the movie? I was thinking we go with romance, so it gets them in the mood, if you know what I mean, ha-ha.” Ben laughs at his own joke.

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“Hell yeah it does! Will, c’mon, you gotta know the basics man!” Ben exclaims.

I roll my eyes. Please, in the school of romance, I’m failing; in fact, I might not even be enrolled.

Once we got to Bio Benn shut up and allowed me to focus on my requited love and the humiliation that I will soon have the joy of experiencing.

I have the love letter tucked away in my back pocket. I keep checking to make sure it is there.

I all but jump out of skin when the bell rings, signalling the end of the period.  Ben and I leave for our lockers.

Ben laughs then asks, “Hey, you’re in Bella’s English class right?”

“Yep, next period.”

“So, you had to write a love letter too?”

I hesitate when answering, “Um… yeah.”

“Cool.” Ben says. Except it isn’t “cool”, he wants to know about my letter but doesn’t want to ask. Ben’s face and tone give tone give way; he never has been good at sounding nonchalant. I hate it when people beat around the bush like that; if you have something to say just say it!

Oh, and the award for hypocrite of the year goes to Will! God, I hate myself.

Ben and I part ways; He heads for law and I go to be tortured.

I get to English and discover that I am the last to arrive. Everybody is in class on time. Even Lawson and his group of apes are here.  Let me tell you, that is a rare occurrence. Most of the time they have “better things” to do. And by things I mean sit around and smoke up. Clearly, a productive use of their time. Who’d want to be literate when you could be high?

Mr. Cole is sitting at his desk with a huge smirk on his face. He knows what is going to happen. He just doesn’t care. Probably another one of his bullshit “learning experiences”.

I glance over and see Bella sitting at her desk. She sits next to the guy who is next to me. She has nothing on her desk so I can’t tell if she has written her letter.

I sit down and feel everybody looking at me. God, it’s as if they know, they’re going to get to see a once in a lifetime show.  I can already hear the laughter.

Exactly as the clock strikes 9:30, Mr. Cole gets up and stands in the centre of the room and looks at us. He smiles. This isn’t looking good.

“Class, I do hope that all of you write your love letters. I am truly looking forward to reading them all.”

A girl, Leigh, raises her hand.

“Yes, Leigh?”

“Are we picking who to get our letter’s to?” She asks.

“Ha-ha, not a chance. Everyone bring your letters up to me please.”

I sit at the very front of the room, so I don’t even really need to stand up and give Mr. Cole the letter. Everyone tries to make note of who wrote on what paper and with what ink.

After everyone has handed in their letters, Mr. Cole puts all of them in a plastic bag and shakes it up. He walks over to Kristabella’s desk (she’s our resident bitch.) and asks her to pick out a letter from the bag.

“Without looking.” He adds.

Kristabella looks a Mr. Cole with an expression that tells him how stupid he is. In response he jut thrusts the bag in her face.

“Any time Kristabella.”

Rolling her eyes, Kristabella reaches into the bag and pulls out letter. She reads it and smiles. A genuine smile. It’s an expression Kristabella does not often use.

Mr. Cole notices, “You’ll let us in on the happiness, won’t you Kristabella?”

Krista folds the letter in half and shakes her head, “This letter belongs to me.”

“Whoever wrote your letter Krista gets an A.” Mr. Cole looks around the room as if he expects someone to get up and say they wrote the letter.

Krista whispers three words, “Be loyal always.”

One of Lawson’s goons, Alex, stands and smiles, “I wrote that.”

Krista returns his grin, “It’s lovely.”

Alex sits back down.

I feel bad for calling him an ape now, I guess even apes have feelings.

We go through this process over and over again. No one else admits they wrote a letter though. Finally, it’s my turn.

Mr. Cole smiles knowingly at me. I take a deep breath and place my hand in the bag. I pull out one that is very crinkled. I slowly opens it, it reads:

Someone once told me that lovers are fated. In fact, everyone had told me that. There is someone out there for you, someone that is meant for you and you alone. It’s not true. There’s no one waiting for you out there. You’ve got look for them. High and low, near and far. You have to find them. Take initiative and go. The person you love won’t wait. You’ve got run and get them; capture their heart and never let it go. It’s up to you.

It’s up to me. I love you, whoever, is reading this stupid letter. I don’t know you but I love you.

Go out and tell the person you care about that you care about them. For fuck’s sake, we’re teenagers, we haven’t got anything to lose. The world is ours. I am yours. You are mine. She is yours. Go, and get her.

Sincerely and with much love

I crumple up the letter. This stupid person makes telling someone who care about them so easy. But it isn’t.

Mr. Cole asks me if I wish to share. I say no. He moves on. I silently thank him.

No one has gotten my letter yet, and for that I am relived.

Seven minutes later, Bella picks her letter. I lean forward on my desk to see if the letter is mine. It isn’t. Suddenly I feel religious again.

 Bella decides not to share her letter either. We’ve got three more to go now.

Next is Anne-Marie. She dips her hand in and pulls out a letter.

My letter.