The alarm bell sounded. Why would anyone schedule a fire drill on Valentine’s Day? Wading through the balloons in the hallway turned into a tangled mess of limbs and ribbons, and once we made it outside, we stood in the cold for twenty minutes while teachers took roll. Some students were missing, so we were forced to wait outside while the building was searched. Turns out the students were discovered in stairwells and classrooms making out. Assholes. When we were finally allowed back inside, there was little class time left, and Jacob seemed disappointed.
I mustered the courage to look at Mr. Connelly once during class. I wanted to see if there was any shame written on his face for breaking up with me right before this obnoxious holiday. He only looked busy—very busy—hunched over his desk writing. Grading. Doodling. Who knows? I hoped he felt like shit.
I carried my flower all day because it was comforting. I didn’t like Jacob romantically, but I liked how kind he was. And thoughtful. I think he understood that I wasn’t interested in him, yet he still gave me a rose. He was just one of those genuinely nice guys, and I decided I’d take my rose home and put it in water. Try to keep it alive as long as possible.
“This day is complete bullshit,” Avery said, taking the empty chair beside mine at lunch. I looked down at her shirt that read, “Valentine’s Day is a satanic holiday.” I laughed, and it felt so good.
“Why do you say that?” I asked. “You’ve got a boyfriend.”
“So what? I still think it’s a bullshit holiday,” she replied. “And I can guarantee you Gavin isn’t going to think to do anything special for me.”
Her tone was so sulky and sad that I instinctively put my arm around her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t I be comforting you?” she asked.
I squeezed her then went back to staring at my food. I hadn’t eaten in two days. I lost my appetite right around 4:27 on Wednesday afternoon.
“I’m okay. Well, actually that’s not true. I’m numb.” I thought for a moment then smiled, adding, “Comfortably numb.”
“I’m sorry he did that to you, Cadence,” Avery said.
“I know, Avery.”
She already said this to me a dozen times, and I knew she was trying to be supportive, but I didn’t want to hear it anymore. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t help me understand. I still couldn’t comprehend how a person could claim to love someone “very much” and then break up with her. It made absolutely no sense, and I think my puzzlement over the entire ordeal was the only thing keeping me from constant, around-the-clock sobbing. I wasn’t good at thinking and crying simultaneously.
“Where’d you get the rose?” Avery asked, fingering the pale pink petals.
“Jacob gave it to me,” I replied.
“How cute,” Avery said, then stuck her finger in her mouth like she was trying to make herself throw up.
“Real mature,” I replied. “And it is cute. You know what he said to me this morning?”
“What’s that?”
“He said, ‘You looked sad since yesterday, so I thought this might cheer you up’.”
“A flower that’s gonna wilt by the end of the day?” Avery asked.
“Man, you are one cold-hearted bitch,” I replied.
Avery laughed. “Seriously, though. That’s a really sweet gesture. When did he give it to you?”
“During math class.”
“Oh,” Avery said, perking up. “Did Mr. Douchebag see?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I hope he did. Asshole.”
I shrugged.
“We should do something tonight,” Avery suggested. “Like a girls’ night. An anti-Valentine’s Day mega party night.” Her eyes glittered with mischief, and I knew it was trouble.
“What do you mean by ‘mega party night’?” I asked.
“Nothing super naughty. Let’s make mixed drinks and get drunk while we watch ‘80s movies,” Avery said.
“Where would we do that?”
Avery thought for a moment, and then her face lit up. “Gavin’s apartment!”
I grunted. “How would it be a girls’ night if he’s there?”
“He won’t be. I’ll make him go stay the night with one of his loser friends,” Avery said.
“I don’t know . . .”
“What’s there not to know? It’s perfect! I’ll get him to buy us alcohol and have it waiting for us when we get there. I’ll make sure he cleans his bathroom. He’s pretty good about keeping his place clean, actually.”
“Avery, don’t you wanna spend Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I see him all the time, Cadence. I’d rather spend this majorly crappy holiday with you.”
And that was the turning point in our relationship. In that moment, Avery became a real friend. No more faux anything. She was my friend, and she wanted to make me feel better.
“Thank you,” I whispered, fighting back the tears.
“Don’t you dare cry, you little *,” she replied. “And you better get hammered tonight.”
“We won’t go anywhere, will we?” I asked.
“No way,” Avery replied. “No repeats of your ‘big mistake’.” She grinned, and I laughed.
“Good, because I’m eighteen, you know. This time I’d go to real jail,” I said.
“As opposed to pretend jail?”
“Well, kids’ jail, anyway,” I said. I picked up my rose and sniffed it.
“I don’t wanna go to real jail either, so we’ll just stay in.” Avery winked at me.
“I’m excited,” I said after a time.
“Me, too,” Avery replied, but I thought she was talking about having a real friend instead of our mega party night.”
***
Ciara’s “Click Flash” is always a good choice when you’re a girl, and you’re without a boyfriend, and you’re drunk off your ass. Oh yeah. And you have a camera phone.
“It’s my turn, Avery!” I whined, pushing my ass out and looking over my shoulder demurely. I pouted for the camera.
Avery swayed dangerously from side to side as she snapped the picture, holding up her martini glass and sloshing her drink all over the rug.
“You are so freaking hot, Cadence,” Avery said, tipping her glass to her lips. She pulled it away, confused. “Where’s my drink?”
“You spilled it all over Gavin’s floor. Uh oh. You’re in trouble,” I giggled
“Oh, man.” She looked so disappointed, like she forgot we had an entire pitcher of pomegranate martinis in the kitchen. She slid her glass on the coffee table and started flipping through our movie selection.
“Do you ever wish you were a teen in the ‘80s?” I asked, sitting beside her on the couch.