Summary: On Valentine’s Day at Roosevelt High, each girl wears a heart with her name on it. It’s the task of the boys to collect as many hearts as they can, any way they can. Read how a reluctant participant literally—and figuratively—gives her heart away.

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Some Hearts

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Drudging through the frigid campas of Roosevelt High, Amy fleetingly wondered whether or not she had put her shirt on the right way. The previous night had found her tossing and turning in her twin bed, hardly getting a wink of sleep because she was fretting over today.

Valentine’s Day.

Somewhere, Amy had heard that Valentine’s Day had been established after a huge massacre. Celebrating love and life after death. Almost ironic.

More popular rumors of Valentine’s Day’s origins included Hallmark and Hershey’s coming together wondering how they could make enough money to survive the rest of the year. The theory was unromantic, but the majority of the world’s inhabitants were hardly that idealistic about love.

Roosevelt High had their own Valentine tradition. In first period, every girl in the school would make a paper heart, tie it to a string, and wear it about their neck. Boys would try and compete and see who could get the most hearts from girls. They did this by, according to The Rules, “talking to a young lady in a sincere and polite manner. If the said young lady is pleased and flattered, she may give her heart to the said young man. However, the young lady may refuse to give it to a young man. One heart per girl.” The guy with the most hearts around his neck would get a prize, which always turned out to be something fabulous.

But at Roosevelt High, things were never simple. The boys were fiercely competitive—being boys— and they were so competitive that for one day they would forgoe their pride and literally beg to get a heart. Of course, the girls noticed this and took great delight in torturing the opposite sex.

To a certain degree, Amy took sadistic pleasure in seeing a man get on his knees and plead. But on the whole, it was a turn-off to see boys so worked up about something so trivial. It was at times like these that she enjoyed being single.

In the back of her mind, she vaguely registered the first bell ringing. Sighing, she briskly walked to her first period. It was going to be a long day.

To her disgust, Amy discovered that some girls even made theirs the night before. Glitter, ribbons, lace, silk—everything you could think of was found on some girls’ hearts. So you could suppose that there was a certain amount of pride with the girls as well.

Amy liked to think she had enough pride not to do something so stupid as to waste time creating a heart that was just going to be thrown in the trash a week later.

Cutting out a piece of red construction paper in the shape of a heart she scrawled out a simple message in black sharpie.

Caution: Amy’s heart is fragile. Please do not break.

Smirking, she tied the string around her neck, the heart on her chest. The tradition may be degrading—and she may have thought it stupid—but dammit, the world was full of hypocrites, and there was something satisfying about seeing a boy beg.

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It was the final period of the day and Amy’s heart was still in tact. Looking around her, she saw she was the only girl in her class with a heart. Most of the boys were looking particularly smug by the amount of hearts around their neck and Amy snickered. She wondered at what lengths they went to get those hearts.

Looking down at her notebook, a corner of her mouth quirked up. Not bad, Adams, she mentally patted herself on the back.

Boys that came up to me: 57

Boys that asked for the heart: 24

Boys that begged for the heart: 13

Boys that tried to steal it: 6

Boys that tried to sweet-talk me into giving it up: 10

Boys that actually talked to me in a “sincere and polite” manner: 0

No wonder Amy’s faith in humanity was somewhat… nonexistant.

With a sigh, she slipped off her heart and put it in her pocket. Another year of disappointments.

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“Amy—hey Amy!” Turning around, she saw her nextdoor neighbor, Luca, jogging towards her.

It was after school, finally and she got accosted three more times before leaving school grounds. She hadn’t given in, though and the heart was still around her neck.

Waiting until he caught up, Amy gave him a genuine smile. “Hey, Luca,” she greeted. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You, too,” he said, and his gaze went to her neck, where he saw a plain white string. “No one stole your heart?” He joked.

Rolling her eyes, she tucked a strand of chocolate hair behind her ear. “No,” she scoffed. “Not to any of those idiots.”

Luca puffed his chest out dramatically. “Those idiots happen to be my brethren, you know.”

Amy laughed as he deflated quickly. “Uh-huh. I can count the similarities between you and those Neanderthals on one hand—thank god.”

Slinging a friendly arm around her shoulder, Luca started to chat about his day. Instantly, Amy relaxed. It was always nice being around Luca. It gave her hope about the opposite sex.

The two had known each other since elementary school, and their friendship survived their awkward years. Granted, it wasn’t as strong as it had once been, but her easy-going ways and his lovable humor were compatible and thus they became each other’s confidants.

Amy supposed he was the one constant in her life. After her parent’s divorce, she was glad that at least she had him. Although, he was a change in himself. Somewhere around eighth grade, he had shot up and now her head barely reached his shoulder. And it wasn’t like she was four foot eight either.

Glancing down at his friend, Luca smiled as she nodded and laughed at all the appropriate parts of his stories. Good lord, he adored this girl. She helped him through his brother leaving for college—the two were so close—with her rational and practical ways. He admitted he was decidedly the more emotional one, and liked to think he helped her lighten up. She was beautiful when she smiled.

His story over, he noticed that she glanced at his neck as well. “You didn’t break any hearts?” She teased, noticing his bare throat.

With a dramatic sigh, Luca admitted, “Alas, I would not bow down to any maiden. Therefore, they would not have me.”

Amy nudged him playfully. “Thank goodness. I swear, Luca, you’re the only boy with any pride at that place.”

“I like to think it’s because I have such a perfect friend,” he winked. “She keeps me in check.”

“You’re absolutely right,” concurred Amy in her mock snobby tone of voice. “Now if you want my heart, go down on the ground and beg.”

With a laugh, Luca instead slipped off their backpacks and wrapped his arms around her waist. He spun her around, her delighted giggles music to his ears.

“Put me down, put me down!”

“As the lady wishes.” He set her down, steadying her with his hands on her waist. “Feel better?”

Glancing up into his cornflower blue eyes, the laughter in her own gray ones disappeared. “Much.”

They were in front of Amy’s house by now and neither one noticed, merely looking at each other.

“Did you know,” Luca started, his voice low, “that in French, Amy means ‘loved’?”

At this random comment, Amy frowned quizically. “No. I’m in Spanish, remember?”

“Ah,” Luca smiled now, as if he had forgotten. It was a gentle smile, tender and true. “That’s right.”

Feeling a tad bit disturbed at this new Luca, Amy asked hastily, “And what does Luca mean?”

“Light.” He answered simply and continued to gaze at her. They were so close she could see the ring of gold in his eyes that surrounded his pupils.

Fleetingly, she thought of a phrase that her teacher had taught them when they made Spanish valentines—Tù eres la luz de mi vida—you are the light of my life.

And as his hands at her waist started to wrap around her, Amy thought with a shock that it was true. He was the light of her life. He was her Luca.

He was coming closer, his eyes becoming more intense. Oh god. He was going to kiss her.

And she wanted it so bad, she did, she did—but it was too soon and she had only figured out her feelings just now and would it change everything between them?

The vibration of the cell phone in her pocket saved her. Breaking away, reluctant and relieved, Amy answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Amy, are you on your way home? I’m worried.” It was her mother.

“I am. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Not sure what to do, or what to say, Amy picked up her backpack and turned to Luca, almost unable to handle his dejected face. Giving him a quick hug, she pecked a kiss onhis cheek and pressed something into his hand.

Jogging to the house, she shut the door after a giving him a little wave.

Feeling a bit dazed, he waved back, not quite sure whether she had just accepted or rejected him.

He looked down at what was in his hand.

Plain and simple, the item brought a grin to his face. Scribbled in what was familiar handwriting, the little heart read:

Caution: Amy’s heart is fragile. Please do not break.

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Notes: This tradition really does happen at my school. However, not to those extremes. Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day.