All Is Fair In Love, War, And More War

All Is Fair In Love, War, And More War

By Dustyn C.; Staff Writer

kiss a geek

Chapter 1: The Beginning Of An End


Valentine’s Day. Otherwise known as “Keep Calm Because Love Is In The Air” day. Today’s the day when missiles, in the forms of flowers and cards, become ninja stars. Pink, instead of red, sheds from the losers who remain single. And I’m bound to be a victim.

“Hey, mom! Where’s the pocket knife!” I yell as I get ready for the apocalypse to come.

“Oh no! You ain’t goin’ to school bringing any weapons!” She yaps back at me.

“Can I at least bring my shield?” I ask, confident.

“Oh no! You ain’t goin’ to school cosplaying!” She yaps at me.

I leave the house a few minutes later, vulnerable. I look around the neighborhood to see if any people are readying themselves for war. One person from sixth period brought a rose and cheap cologne. I could tell it was cheap by its misspelled label: “Good Clogne 4 Hoot Men.” Maybe he bought it in an alleyway.

Another person from my fourth period brought a box of chocolates. It was gold and heart-shaped. I could tell that the box was expensive. The person even brought a letter with him. I couldn’t make out what the words were, but I was eventually able to read a few words: Or Else. I could tell that he was desperate.

I finally arrived at my school. Winteress High School. The time it took to get there was quicker than I imagined, but that’s probably time itself telling me to walk back home. I sighed as I walked into the entrance, with only the sight of hearts to see.

“Hi, guys! Principal Tinder here with your morning announcements! As you can see, today’s Valentine’s Day! The day when being stereotypical is actually a good thing and sappy poetry becomes relevant again! School will resume as usual, but remember, Valentine’s Day is how you want to celebrate it!” the speaker said, as I sat down in my assigned seat, moaning and thinking of the events to come.

Weirdly enough, school did resume as usual. There were no spin-the-bottles in odd corners of the school or PDA for teachers to eradicate. No student passed a card to anyone in class nor was chocolate eaten in secret. Everything was sane, which made me feel insane. The school couldn’t be this quiet, especially on Valentine’s Day. Until lunch, that is.


Chapter 2: Jason & My Love Life


Silence. Pure silence. Love might be in the air, but the cries of single men is bound to be much louder.

The bell rings for lunchtime. All the kids run out the doors of their fourth period, leaving behind the scent of perfume and cologne that smelled like something from the Dollar store. Chaos is going to happen.

As I walk to the cafeteria, guys and gals are seen flirting and confessing one’s affections. What kind of an idiot says that they love someone beside the principal’s office? Once I walk in the cafeteria, I realize that I’ve spoken too soon.

“Um. Uh. Hm. Let me think for a very long, non-suspicious, time,” my friend, Jason, responds to a girl who confessed her love for him. Jason’s cool. He’s fit, and kind, and outgoing, though his grades are as bad as a baby’s impersonation of dubstep.

“Hey, friend. Brother. Companion. Can you give me hand with the situation?” Jason asks me, pointing at the girl who wants his affections.

“Um, Monica. There’s a man selling illegal candy by the hallway.” I say to her. In response to the mention of the fake event, she restlessly races out of the scene and into the hallway.

“Thanks for that. I’m not good at rejecting others softly without going to the hospital and explaining my love life to a doctor who doesn’t know what an iOS is,” Jason praises, ”Hopefully I don’t have to suffer through that scenario again.”

“You just jinxed it,” I say with a sigh, “Don’t worry about it, though. Just say that there’s some random older teen celebrity in need of CPR or something. They’ll run out of your vision in the blink of an eye.”

“Thank you so much for that advice,” Jason expresses, ”Now, do you need help with your love life?”

“Nope! Leave me out of this psychopathic warfare!”

“Aw, c’mon! As cliché as it sounds, there are tons of fish in that vast ocean we call life!”

“What makes you think that I’d be fit to date one of the many stereotypes in this school!?”

“You know, you’re a stereotype yourself! You have a sweet core behind all that coating of sardonic attitude. I bet I could find you a gal to run to the sunset with by the end of the day!”

“Yeah, right. Welp, I’ll see ya later. Good luck with finding a girl to fall in love with my critical viewpoint of society!” I leave the cafeteria, walking backwards without a single weird look from anyone because they’re too deaf with rejection.

For the rest of lunch, I simply walked around the hallways, looking at all the dumb attempts boys make to woo girls into their arms. Some won, but most of them lost. I’m not surprised that almost all the boys would attempt to pursue the plastic blondies of Winteress High School. No wonder we have a bad reputation.

I was simply minding my own business watching valentine fails consecutively, and for the most part I was amused. I liked being alone, watching rejection happen before me. Nothing could stop me!

“Stop right there!” Jason exclaimed from a distance behind me, “You aren’t going anywhere!”

“What do you want?! I’m trying to entertain myself with the sorrows of others!” I ask angrily.

Jason grabbed a wrinkled paper from his pocket and replied, “I found your dream gal!


Chapter 3: Dream Girl?


“Wait? What?” I ask, confused, “How could find a girl so quickly?!”

“Well, she came up to me! She was all like, ‘Where is he?!’ and it was so cute in every way!” Jason explained. I was skeptical, but intrigued nonetheless.

“Who are you talking about?” I slowly asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Monica!” Jason said with bright enthusiasm, “She clearly want you!”

“Yeah! She wants me dead! You know she hates liars!”

“C’mon! She’s cute and smart! I bet your relationship could last at least a month!”

“You are decreasing chances of me dating someone just by saying that a relationship can’t last a lifetime. If a couple is destined to fade faster than the relevance of the Backstreet Boys once the early 2000s started, why should a couple be made in the first place?” I explain in severe detail.

“Fine, whatever. Live a life without love!” Jason says in frustration, “I don’t care! I give up! Raise all the white flags!” He walks back to the cafeteria, grunting softly. I don’t know what his problem is. I think it’s completely fine to live a single life. No obligations with a wife and children. No extra taxes to pay for a child’s future. Just me, myself, and I for eternity!

“There you are!” I hear from a distance. The angry, feminine voice sounded all the more familiar. It was definitely Monica.

Monica dashes up to me with an angry smirk on her face. She was apparently carrying a soup spoon that was obviously from the cafeteria kitchen. I attempted to run away, but there were dead ends all around me. I’m done for.

“This is what I do to liars like you!” Monica yells as if it were some kind of battle cry, which it was, in a sense. She holds the spoon in the air, ready to strike. All I do is crouch down in fear. What a coward I am. When she just inches away from me, still yelling in anger, she does the unthinkable.


Monica, reluctantly, gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.


That. Was amazing. It felt weird. Insane. Like a TV show that’s cancelled right after its last season ended on a cliffhanger, except this was different. The feeling of her soft lips on my cheek wasn’t what weirded me out. Her cute but still furious smile that she pulled off for about half a second after kissing me wasn’t what weirded me out. The fact that she kissed me in the first place was the shocker.

“Liar!” Monica yapped at me, walking away to her fifth period classroom. The bell rang soon after that. I was going to be late.


Chapter 4: The Aftermath


After what happened at lunch, we couldn’t talk. Normally, she would come to me to be her anger management consultant or therapist, because of her obvious anger issues. Sometimes I might come to her for advice on how to stand up for myself, or for self-defense actions. Now, I can’t talk to her without a heavy amount of blush sprouting across my face and neck. It drove me insane!

In the end of the day, I had to talk over what happened between us. After school, she had detention for punching the janitor for judging her mismatched sock.  So when she’d go out the entrance, that’s when I’d talk to her. Luckily, that’s exactly what happened.

“What do you want?” Monica asked, looking away.

“Why did you do it?” I asked her, “Why did you do… the thing?”

“What ‘thing’?”

“The thing that happened at lunch!” Mentioning ‘lunch’ caused her to blush hard.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it!”

“C’mon! I’m like your anger management guru! Your teacher in sanity! You can tell me nearly everything!”

“Nope! Not budging.”

“Ai! Okay, can you at least list any influences for you to do the ‘thing’?”

“Um. Uh. Hm. Well, your friend was one of them.”



          “Thanks for the info! Now, what was the deal with the spoon?”

“Oh, that! Well, I was going to use that to hit that friend of yours after he told me to do it!”

“Do you still have that spoon with you?”


The End!

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