When we challenged our students at American fork to write their best story with the prompt “Valentine’s Day Gone Wrong” they responded greatly. In First place we have Amanda Murdoch, in Second we have Drew Whiffen and 3rd Grace Turner. Thank you to all who entered, keep writing! You can find all of their stories below.
left to right: Drew Whiffen, Amanda Murdoch, Grace Turner.
Love is In the Air . . . But so is Fire, Water and Punch
By: Amanda Murdoch
Looking back I realized I probably shouldn’t have used that many fireworks. During my brief spurt of insanity the thought had crossed my mind. But I was trying to make sure the “B” in Bryce didn’t end up looking like an 8 and the “O” in Olivia was round, and the heart surrounding the names was shaped correctly. I probably should have been more concerned about what would happen after the fireworks were lit . . . but I was instead thinking about a certain blue-eyed boy and the amazement and surprise on his face when I lit the fuse. Of course, we usually don’t realize our mistakes until after they’ve been made.
I also hadn’t realized that so much could go wrong in the first two minutes of being picked up. The rocky start to the date should have clued me in that this beautiful Valentine evening was probably going to be a disaster. The fact that Bryce was late because he couldn’t find his car keys and therefore picked me up at the exact same moment the fire alarm went off was impressive to say the least. Whatever was burning in the oven apparently was the prime product for giving off as much smoke as possible. Obviously I hadn’t planned on the sprinkler system inside the house actually working, because if I had known I wouldn’t have stood right underneath it, allowing the water to strip my hair of all the curls I had just spent an hour on perfecting.
At this point I behaved like any rational human being and started laughing along with Bryce, both of us snickering at how ridiculous we looked. Unfortunately it took a large chunk of time for Bryce to run back home and change, and for me to finally choose a different outfit. Sadly, I lost all presence of intelligence while picking out a blouse, and of all the colors I chose white. Later this would prove disastrous. Also, I find it highly amusing that we would be pulled over for speeding, even though I’m positive we were going slower that the car in front of us. Anyway, after scary, gruff policeman drove away we finally made it to the restaurant.
Inside of the restaurant it looked like an army of decorators had gone insane. A blind person could have guessed that it was Valentine’s Day; you could practically smell the color red. Whoever first thought that red was the color of love should be arrested, because it’s also one of the hardest colors to wash out of clothing. After sitting down Bryce and I just sat and ate and talked and I knew I was the luckiest girl in the planet. I mean he was still smiling even after being late, getting drenched and pulled over. Sadly, the perfect atmosphere was not to last. Red punch is apparently very popular on Valentine’s Day, and somehow the waiter got our table mixed up with someone else. In their rush to apologize for bringing us the wrong drink the waiter knocked over the pitcher of blood red strawberry punch. Right in front of me. And it spilled. All. Over. My. Clothes.
I’m proud to say I did not cry. I didn’t even gasp. I think my emotions detached actually, because I was able to calmly watch as my nice, lacey, white new blouse turned bright red. We left pretty quickly after that, and I just pulled my sweater over my shirt and decided I could live with it for a little longer. I was just so happy to finally get to the finale, the surprise I had promised Bryce with for weeks. I was so excited to show him, that I didn’t really mind having a wet, red/white shirt.
The surprise was in the parking lot in front of one of my favorite parks. We got there just as the stars were coming out. We walked over to the fuse box and holding hands I looked into the eyes of the boy I loved and pushed the button. I expected the words “Bryce and Olivia” to explode into the air surrounded by a lovely heart. Unfortunately I overestimated things a bit, and some of the fireworks had fallen over probably due to wind. So instead only the “B” and the “Olivia” went off, spelling “Bolivia”. What had once been the heart had been knocked sideways and started going off shooting in all directions.
There was definitely surprise on his face when things started exploding everywhere, so at least one thing went right that evening. Maybe Bryce wasn’t amazed per se, but he was probably amazed at the amount of explosives I used. So even though we almost died getting hit by rogue fireworks, sprinting for cover and the fact that I may have started a small fire, it was the most exciting Valentine’s Day I had ever had.
Love Is Blind
By: Drew Whiffen
She was beautiful. Medium-length brown curls, blue-Jansport backpack, and really nice calves. I was in the 10th grade. I had seen this girl every day in the halls walking while I was always following behind her to class. Valentine’s Day is in three days, which means I HAVE to get a Valentine this week or my buddies will bug me the rest of the year. I don’t quite know her name, I just follow her to where she passes my Art History class. All I know is that she hangs out with a bunch of guys. I honestly don’t know how I will ask her, but I guess I’ll just figure it out.
I braced myself as the tardy bell rang loudly above my head. “Okay, class! We’re starting our new unit in Art History today. Who’s excited for Babylonian pottery?” The class went silent. The only sound I heard was a slight groan from the back corner, and a sigh from a girl in the front row. I leaned over to my best friend, Robbie. “Is it just me, or does Miss. Ellingson look like a witch with a table-edge butt?”
Robbie whispered back, “I know, right? She’s probably going to tell another story about how much she hates her ex-husband.”,
Miss Ellingson waddled over to the front of the room and sat on her ‘lecture stool’. “Well, my ex-fiance called me the other day, and I was like; ‘oh hi, Jerry, you calling this time to try to start yapping at me again?’ And he was like…”
This is going to be a long hour, I thought.
Day two, preparation. It’s a B-day today, which means my PE class with Coach Collinsworth is right across from her Fitness class in the north gym. I had it drilled in my head that I was going to talk to her for the first time, then ask her tomorrow. As the class bell dinged, I grabbed my backpack and as soon as I was about to run out the door, I realized I forgot my notebook on the bleachers. As I rushed back to the stands, I glanced back through the doorway, and Blue-Jansport walked right past my class, the back of her head visible from surrounding birth-canal of students as she walked down the hall. My heart sank to the floor.
Tomorrow’s the day, I thought as I slapped my head on my pillow that night. I’ve got nothing to lose.
She was right there. Standing with her back turned to me in the swarm of teenagers. With an ounce left of confidence within me, I walked behind her, and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hey, uh, I just wanted to ask you…”
As soon as she turned around, it was no longer a girl, but a 16-year-old male version of Chris Hemsworth. I nearly fainted.
The shower was bloody cold that night.
Love Takes a Ride
by Grace E. Turner
“Eee!” I squealed, “He asked me, Mary, Jade, he asked me to the valentines day dance!”
“Well it’s about time,” Mary said, “You’ve only liked each other since you met.”
“We will need to work on your hair and find a good dress,” Jade said.
Mary and Jade are my two best friends, and they spent the next week planning what I should wear and how I should do my hair for my date with Mark. Mark is a wonderful kind young man whom I liked the moment I first saw him. My friends say Mark feels the same way, and we had hung out a few times, but never really been on a date.
When he came to pick me up I was dressed not in the big frilly girl dress my friends piked out, but in jeans and a red T-shirt, my hair hung down loose, free to blow in the wind as it pleased-rather than in the uncomfortably tight curly bun my friends loved. Mark (who was dressed just like me,) greeted me with a smile and gave me a rose.
There were still a couple of hours until the dance, so we decided to go on a hike and a picnic. Our picnic went well, but on the hike I tripped on a rock and fell into a stream. Mark tried to help me, but fell on top of me and my hand got cut on a sharp rock. A couple of minutes later we got to the car, and drove to his house to clean my hand.
After we had cleaned my hand we went to leave, but made it no farther than the front door when his mom asked us to watch his little siblings for a while so she could run some errands (she must not have realized we were on date).
We spent the next two hours watching his siblings then rushed off to the dance. We missed the first hour of the dance, but three remained, and the best couple would not be picked for another two hours. We tried to dance the Triple Swing and ChaCha, but my hand hurt to much to do so for long. Instead we sat and talked and listened to the music. We did not win the best couple contest which would have meant a free pass for two to ice skate at seven peaks, but we were both busy that day anyway. We enthusiastically danced the best we could for the next half hour until a careless couple knocked us into two other couples, hurting Mark’s ankle. We quickly rushed to the hospital afraid his leg was broken, it was not. I was driving us home when a drunk driver hit the back of the car. We received only a few bumps and bruises from the crash, and spent the rest of the night filling out reports, insurance claims, and explaining why we were out after curfew and telling our parents why we were late.
In all it was a very eventful and painful evening, and by all standards terrible, but even though every thing went wrong we actually managed to have some fun in there some were, and we laugh about the events of that day every time we see each other.