He had the sloppy half-cursive, half-print kind of handwriting that I could never read. The kind of handwriting I detested, ever since my fourth grade teacher wrote like that. The kind of handwriting that tied my brain in knots, I swear. But that was the first thing I ever knew about him, how awful his handwriting was.
Do you wanna go to homecoming with me? I see you every day walking to school and I really want to get to know you. I think it would be fun if you went with me and my friends.
In hopes you will take me up on my offer,
The most popular Jock in school (hopefully)
P.S. I hope you like daisies. I got them for you even though I'm allergic.
I stared at the note my locker, my mouth opened slightly in disbelief as I struggled to read the handwriting. I had to look over it a few times to understand what it said, my mind moving slowly and reading "joke" instead of "jock." But as soon as I processed it, I wrenched the tiny slip of paper off my locker with disgust, the force ripping the paper and leaving tape still on the locker. I glanced down to where a small bouquet of daisies was laying on the ground under my locker, tied together with a large red bow.
Definitely not under another locker. Under my locker.
"Who the hell?" I asked aloud.
Was this some kind of sick joke? I glanced around to see if anyone else had seen the letter, but of course no one had. No one ever saw me. So who had left this note here, if everyone always ignored me?
Someone messing with me, no doubt. It was either someone playing a mean joke, or else someone with serious brain issues. Which I know is kind of hypocritical, seeing as I have dyslexia and ADHD, but still. I mean, no one in their right mind would ask me to homecoming. I'd never been asked to homecoming before, I didn't even want to go, not with all the jerks that went to my school. I didn't blame the guy for not putting his name on the note.
And who would leave a note on someone's locker anyway? If this was legit, it was pretty lame.
I made a fist around the note, the paper crumpling into a small condensed ball, before shoving it into my backpack, which I had just swung off my shoulders. Whoever this weirdo person was, putting fake love notes on my locker, I wasn't going to waste my time thinking about him. I bent down to pick up the flowers that were on the floor, though, sniffing them before putting them in my locker. They were going to be the only thing that I kept from this crackpot - I mean, I like flowers, okay? Everyone loves flowers.
But I made a mental list of all the popular football players in my school, just in case. Not that I actually thought any of them had asked me. Most of them had already asked girls to homecoming anyway, so it wasn't like it mattered. I just couldn't imagine going with any of those jerks to a dance.
The next day, when I went to my locker, there was another note there, this time with a few lilies taped to the paper. My heart leapt slightly before I could stop it as I heaved my backpack higher on my shoulders, struggling to read the handwriting again.
I was just wondering if you got my first note. If not, I asked you to homecoming. I think I will really like you and hopefully you will like me. Sorry for reaching out to you like this, I unfortunately don't know anyone with your number.
Again, in hopes you got my first letter,
Captain of the football team.
P.S. I'm allergic to lilies too, but hope you like them.
Whoever was playing this joke was being ridiculous now. I didn't know for certain who the captain of the football team was, but if I had to guess it would probably be Quinn Kester or Ray Chestnut, both of whom were big, muscular idiots who had girlfriends. They most likely didn't know who I was - they had probably never even seen me. I mean, it was even less likely that either of them were asking me to homecoming than it was that they were able to write the note to begin with.
Which, again, was hypocritical, seeing as I couldn't write until fourth grade, but they were football players. They didn't need to be able to write.
Anyway, I pulled to the note off my locker, untaping the lilies and putting them in a cup of water in my locker, along with the daisies. I glanced at the note one last time before crumpling it up, too. I had to hand it to this guy, because even if he wasn't serious, he did keep up his stupid joke.
But, I knew no one would ever actually ask me to homecoming. Still, though, I ripped a piece of paper from one of my notebooks. Maybe it was stupid to think he was coming back tomorrow, but just in case I scribbled note back to him and stuck it onto my locker.
Deer the biggest joke in school,
Pleese, who ever you are, do'nt mess around anymor. Im not stupib enough too think some one would actually ask me too homecoming.
In hopes you will stop messsing around,
P.S. The flowers were nice, but I perfer toolips.
I definitely didn't expect there to be another note the next day, but there was. When I walked up to my locker I bit my lip, my heart speeding up as I saw a little white note taped to my locker, a few tulips wedged in between my locker door and the wall.
When I read your note I laughed. Of course I'm not messing around. I just think it would be fun to go to homecoming together. Do you want to? If so, just leave a note on your locker like you did yesterday.
Glad that you are getting my letters,
PS. Of course you had to pick a flower I'm allergic to. Oh, wait, I'm allergic to almost all flowers.
I stared at the note, the letters blurring together. Tapping my foot against the floor, I reached out and wrenched the flowers from my locker, inhaling their sweetness. I glanced back at the note, squinting at the word "guatardakc" - wait - "quarterback." I didn't know who played that position, but it shouldn't be that hard to figure out. Turning the paper over, I scribbled a response.
Daer foootball dude, whoever you are,
Don't mack fun of my spelling. Its called dislecksia okay. And I no you are'nt legit, who wood ask me to homecoming? I dont no who you are any way, how do you no me?
Apologizes four the dad spelling,
P.S. Is there anything your not allergic too?
Satisfied, I taped the note back onto my locker and quickly put the flowers in the cup with the daisies and lilies. I shut my locker, turning to hurry to my homeroom. I was ready the next day for his response.
Sorry I made fun of your spelling. Sometimes it's hard to read what you wrote; it's okay though, my sister has trouble with spelling too. Anyway, why shouldn't I ask you homecoming? Of course I'm genuine, I want to go with you even more now. I already told you how I know you - I watch you walk to school every day.
With hopeful thoughts,
Jock and soon-to-be class president
P.S. I got petunias this time. And the only thing I'm not allergic to is you. (Sorry, that was the worst response to your question ever.)
So he was also running to be the class president as well as being super-popular, captain of the football team, and quarterback. Why would a guy who did so many things want to go to homecoming with me? I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of this, put the flowers with the other ones, and scribbled my response.
Dear Mr. Presedent,
Its creapy that you watch me walk too school. Of course you woodn't ask me to homecoming, im a loser. Everyone who nos me (which isnt vary many people) nos that.
A little creaped out,
P.S. You'd probably be allergic to my deodorant or somthing
The next day, of course, his answer was taped to my locker. I wondered how long he was going to keep this up as I tore it off the medal.
Can I help noticing pretty girls who walk to school? Plus, you a loser? Don't be so hard on yourself, I love you already. So, about homecoming...are you going to go with me or not?
Sorry you are creeped out,
Cashier at Dunkin' Donuts
P.S I got lilacs, in case you couldn't tell.
I felt my mouth turn up into a smile before I could stop myself, at the words pretty girl. I grasped the flowers off the floor, inhaling deeply, and scrambling to find a pen.
I still cant figur out why yuo want too go too homcoming with me. Yuo dont kno me at alll. And it is stalkerish to watch me walk to sckool. Why dont you say hi sometim?
P.S. I kno they are lilacks, thank you very much. I love flowers, I kno all their names
The next day there was another letter and a large sunflower waiting for me, but again, no hi on the way to school. I squinted at the handwriting, twirling the flower around my fingers.
All you need to know about me is that I really want to go to homecoming with you. Okay? Sorry I can't say hi until you agree to go with me. By the way, are you going to the homecoming football game?
No need for you to be confused,
P.S. I would be glad you like flowers, but they made me sneeze. Hope you like the sunflower
I smiled even wider, reaching into my purse for a pen when I stopped. Wait. I froze, my hand hovering to grab a pen. Wait, why are you doing this? If he was legit, he would say hi in the halls or something. But he didn't. I mean, why am I believing him?! NO one would ever ask me to homecoming. Ever, ever, ever.
I frowned at the paper, mad that he couldn't say hi to me. Of course he wasn't going to say hi, though, he was kidding. He wasn't serious. I turned the paper around, grabbing a pen out of my locker and writing a response.
Dear guy that has bettr grades then me,
Im stil confused. You expect me tu thikn you are four real when yuo wont even say hi two me? No one wants to go too homecoming with me, why are yuo stil keeping up your litle joke?
A litle bit angery,
P.S. I love sunflowers, im sorry they mak you sneez
The next day, the handwriting was even more sloppy and looked as it was written in a hurry. There were a few daffodils taped on the paper.
Look, I swear I'm legit. I actually really like you. C'mon please agree to go with me, it's not a joke. I'm sorry I really can't say hi to you until you say you will go me. Sorry I'm really sorry. If you go to the homecoming game, you will get to see me play though.
Worried you are too angry to go with me,
P.S. I thought you'd like the daffodils.
I wanted to think he was for real, but none of the jocks at our school would have asked me to homecoming. It wouldn't happen. I was a little mad I had sort of fell for it for a while, and something about his letter seemed so...real. So real I couldn't respond.
Man, I should have payed attention when they announced the Homecoming King though.
I grabbed the daffodils off the paper, tucking them into my cup of water with all the other flowers. I bit back any regret I felt as I crumpled up the paper. I wasn't going to waste my time with this supposed "cool boy" or "Homecoming King" any longer.
No possible way.
The next day people were giving me weird looks when I walked into school, and as soon as I when to my locker I knew why.
The whole thing was covered in sparkly baby-blue wrapping paper, and it had peonies taped to the corners. A large sign hung on it with the same, seriously annoying, sloppy half-cursive half-print handwriting that had been all the of the notes. I struggled to read it like I normally did, but this time my heart was moving faster than it ever had before.
Will you be my date to homecoming? I'm not kidding about this. If you want to, meet me after the homecoming game tonight by the concession stand.
I'll wait as long as it takes for you,
P.S. I'll have roses for you tonight
I stared at my unrecognizable locker, my mouth finally dropping open. This was a joke. It had to be a joke. No one would ever have done this for me, the loser girl of the century.
I mean, right? No one could like me well enough to come to my locker ever day with flowers and a new note. No one could like me well enough to decorate my locker and ask me to homecoming. I mean right? I mean, come on, no one would do that for me.
But...someone had. Even if it was a joke, someone had.
And I wasn't going to miss this football game for the world.
I hugged my sweatshirt closer to me, the chilly air seeping through my jacket. People were crowded too close for comfort around me, screaming and cheering until it made my head spin. The blonde cheerleaders chanted and danced on the field, as, shivering, I squinted at the game, trying to make out what was going on. All I could see was a group of sweaty boys, wrestling around. I looked for someone on the football team I didn't completely hate but I couldn't. All I saw was Quinn Kester and Ray Chestnut acting like they were in the NFL or something. Even though our school was losing terribly.
A football guy broke out of the cluster of players, running towered the end zone with the ball under his arm. I listened as the crowd of kids screamed wildly to "tackle him, Kester, tackle him!" but the opponent made a touchdown anyway. I saw Quinn stalking off the field, apparently angry.
Man, I hoped he wasn't my secret admirer. He'd probably be too angry to meet me.
The game finished pretty quickly after that, with the other team winning 24 to 0. I watched the football teams march off the field, wanting to jump out of my seat and run down to the concession stand, but I made myself wait. Not that I thought anyone would be there. I mean, just in case there was. I mean, there wasn't going to be, I just wanted to.
I stared hard at the bouquet of many flowers I had collected, from the notes, of course, in my hand. They were beautiful, a mix of colors and scents, something, maybe the only thing, that my brain could really process. I gripped it harder in my hand, not wanting to let go of it.
If this didn't happen, if he never showed up, at least I would have something to remember him by.
A few minutes later I walked over to the concession stand, holding my breath. But it was my ears, not my eyes, that told me he was there.
I heard someone sneeze.
My heart had never been beating as fast as it was that moment. All of a sudden a huge tall guy I had never seen before was standing in front of me, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a uniform on him that definitely wasn't our team colors. I didn't see any of that at the moment though, all I saw was the perfect face that definitely could have been the one that left me flowers, have that awful handwriting, asked me to homecoming, and watched me walk to school.
All I saw was beautiful eyes looking right into my eyes, a sprinkle of freckles across beautiful cheekbones, a crooked smile that showed dimples. A face I had never seen, but almost could, putting the notes on my locker. A face I'd never, ever forget.
His mouth moved and somehow I heard his voice over my beating heart: "Kelly, will you please, please go with me to - "
"You never said hi on the way to school," I muttered, my hands twitching but I forced them to stay at my sides.
He looked at me, his lips jerking into a smirk. For a moment I didn't know what to think until he said calmly, "I'll say it now, then. Hello, Kelly. I'm Tom Trinity and I was wondering if you would want to be my date to homecoming."
I wasn't going to give up, I wanted to know why...why this Tom had left me hanging when he could have said hi. "Why didn't you say hi?"
He looked at me curiously, but as if he had been expecting me to continue. "I'm not from your school," he said, and I saw crooked teeth underneath his perfect lips.
"So what?" I said, and bounced up and down on the balls of my feet.
Tom looked down at me, looking amused. I was pretty tall, but he was really big. He had to be taller than six feet at least. "I thought you wouldn't want to go to homecoming with the quarterback of the other football team. I thought you would want to go with someone from your school. Ya know, like we were Romeo and Juliet or something."
I thought of the jerks at my school, the annoying people that ignored me for three years. "I hate my school," I said honestly, and I saw him smile. "They all ignore me. You're the first person that hasn't ignored me since fifth grade."
Tom opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off again. "How, though? How did you get the notes and flowers in thet school. And...why? Why did you?"
He shrugged, never taking his eyes off mine. "I gave them to Quinn Kester, we went to the same middle school. And I don't know. I think I just saw you and was immediately interested in you."
"I'm a loser," I told him.
He smiled. He was always smiling, I realized, so I smiled shyly back at him. "You're my loser," he said, and then he quickly added, "If you want to be, of course."
I opened my mouth, but this time he was too fast for me. He grabbed my hand, and I felt the warmness of his skin against mine. He shoved the roses into my hand with all the other flowers. "Here, I can't breath," he said and then said slowly, "Kelly, will you go to homecoming with me?"
I saw his eyes and I saw that he really was for real. This was real. He was real. He wasn't a sick joke, a prank. He was someone that was really, honestly, asking me to homecoming. He was as real as the flowers I held in my hand.
"Yes," I said, and for the first time I was able to think blissfully, this is for real, this is for real.
A/N: Well. That was intense to write.
Here it is - my pride and joy - my oneshot. I'm really excited because I've been writing this for a long time, and I've edited it and reworked it a few times.
So you guys have to tell me I have been dying to know...
HOW DID YOU LIKE IT?! Was it good? Did it make sense? How did you like the ending? Did you like the notes they were sending each other? I know it might be kinda hard to read Kelly's notes, but that is on purpose...basically me without spell check. XP
Please tell me how you felt and maybe REVIEW! Please don't forget...I promise I try to return them...:)))))))))))
So, please help and review and have a great rest of your life spend on fictionpress...review as many people as you can including my main story, Station Number Ten, my sister's story, Gargoyle, and all the other awesome stories that are out there.
Read the note in the next chapter. Please!
Peace out, love all of you.