Two Roses on Valentine’s Day
Growing up, Amy and I loved Valentine's Day. In pre-school, for Valentine's Day and for reasons best known only to herself, Mom would dress Amy and I in pink turtlenecks, with little lavender hearts on them. In grammar school, Amy and I wore matching red sweaters each year on Valentine's Day causing confusion in the school.
Finally, we were out of grammar school and on to Middle School where Valentine’s Day was a really big deal. There was this ritual in Middle School where the boys would leave roses on the homeroom desks of the girls they liked. Who knew the school was so organized. Even though (in retrospect) it was the most chauvinistic ritual in the world, Amy and I loved it.
In sixth grade I got a rose from Johnny, a boy I absolutely had no interest in at all. When he wasn't banging into something or tripping over some line on the floor, Johnny was always talking to me about nothing. Even though I didn't like Johnny, I was still really flattered especially since no one else bothered to leave me a rose. Amy also got a rose in sixth grade, from a shy cutey in third period English. Amy thanked him, but beyond that he never "spoke" to Amy again. We still refer to him as the "shy boy."
In seventh grade, we wished for roses from someone special. Specifically, I wanted a rose from my Crush boy (that's what I called him because he was my first crush, and you never forget your first crush). Amy wanted a rose from one of the cute boys on her top FIVE List.
First day of seventh grade math, Crush boy sat right down next to me. Oh. My. God! By the following month, I was able to make eye contact with him (now look who was the shy one.) Soon, he was talking to me before class and sending me funny notes with quotes from his favorite movies (no texting back then). That year, I hoped and prayed there would be a rose on my desk from him.
The morning of Valentine's Day, Amy and I got up around 7:30 to start putting on our pink lip gloss. Amy was so excited she practically sprinted to homeroom. I walked into class, playing it oh so cool. I looked at Amy and she was holding a rose (thank goodness!) I got to my desk and my rose was waiting. YIPPIE! I knew it had to be from my Crush boy. I sat down and remembered to breathe. I opened the card and read it. To AMY. WHAT??? The card was for Amy!
As I was crying inside, I was still happy for Amy. I always am. We are guaranteed best friends for life. If it's not happening for me at least it's happening for my twinny (and I know she feels the same way too). When Amy got an A on a test and I didn't, I was just glad that one of us got an A. When Amy was invited to a party that I wasn't, again, I was just happy that one of us had a social life that weekend. But this, not getting a rose, this was all too much! This was more than just Amy getting two roses and me getting none, this was about Crush boy and me. Didn't he have feelings for me? Didn't he think about me at all? This was true and utter sadness!
The only thing I could do was put on more lip-gloss.
As I was putting away my lip- gloss (wow, I felt better already), I saw Amy reading her card. I had to tell Amy about her second rose. I had to forget about this Crush boy.
As I was thinking about how much I hated Crush boy, Amy handed me a rose. "It's for you,” she said. "The teacher got us mixed up". "That's funny Amy because this one is for you." We quickly exchanged the roses and cards. I opened mine up and it was from Crush boy!
I was so excited. It wasn't in my head after all. He wrote the sweetest thing ever, Have a Happy Valentine's Day! I then asked Amy who her rose was from and she said, “Number three on my list!"
