February

[*helps push the post down farther* Let me know when you're all caught up with the midterm and other academic stuff Lucy, and I'll start routing the posts through your inbox again. It seems safer. First line of defense against the horrors of truly awful mechanical errors (that you are used to, after 2 years of salvaging my essays) and all. Feel brave. Feel very brave. *cough*]

Valentine’s Day was a lot like a disease that went around and randomly infected people, and for some reason the female half of the population usually ended up more affected. Then again, as far as Mike had observed, the female half of the population, especially within his age range, was weird in general, which meant that everything must be held in subjective degrees of measurement only.

Dawning of the fourteenth of February made him feel somewhat paranoid; it always did. He could never wake up on that day without feeling like there was someone stalking him, and he always had to the nagging suspicion that he was right. Had he not had an actually interesting class that day, he would’ve, doubtlessly, opted to go into hiding. The slight issue with that this year was that he had no where to hide except his room and by lunch, after receiving two door knocks and a pink heart (pink!) full of what he assumed to be candy, he decided that a new hiding place was needed and considered his options.

He needed a place with a door that locked, that much was for certain, and preferably something to do while he was inside the asylum. Naturally he thought about his friends. Nick, who, if he had any sense, would be hiding somewhere as well. Gary, being strange and with some sort unresolved issues with girls that Mike knew Zach did not approve of, was on a date with someone. Which left Zach who was, Mike realized, probably as much affected by February the fourteenth as a block of cement was and therefore the safest bet.

The weather, decided Zach, had definitely taken a turn for the better. It was already no longer necessary to keep the windows closed (more against the rain than the cold) or be redundantly thankful of the heating system (which happened about three days per year here). He enjoyed leaving the window wide open as he read, so that the room smelt like the outside: a blend of the nearby pines, sun-warmed wind, and the faintest of whiff of city smog that still somehow managed to coalesce together to bring to mind the word “springtime.”

Someone gave the door a sharp rap, then tried to open it. Since he had locked the door after his roommate had left with his girlfriend, this, of course, was not possible. Sighing, Zach unfolded himself from where he had wedged himself comfortably into his chair and went to open the door, thinking about how much less sympathetic he’d be if it turned out that his roommate had lost his room key, again.

“Hey,” said Mike, looking slightly twitchy and with his twitchiness reminding Zach that it was Valentine’s Day. “Can I come in?”

“You may,” answered Zach, “But your ‘entourage’ stays outside.”

“What?”

He made a slight motion with his hand, indicating that Mike, fittingly clad in black and dark grey on a day of overwhelming bright pinks and reds, should turn around. What then ensued could be only described as a massive screech-giggle as a group of girls hastily and indiscreetly shuffled behind a corner.

“Holy crap.” Mike bolted into the room and shoved the door closed behind him, looking even twitchier.

“There, there,” Zach said absently, checked out of the peephole on the door, and reflected that with that group out there and Mike in here he should give up reading his biology text right then and there… and perhaps consider what might be done to alleviate the distress of his friends. Plural. Because Nick had stopped by earlier before he fled somewhere else with a picture of his old girlfriend hidden in his wallet, just in case.

Nick wasn’t in his room. That was somewhat expected. Mike wasn’t in his room. That was also somewhat expected but, Gary thought, if Zach, the permanently dependable residence of his room, was not there he might have to go and destroy something by a way of stress management.

How was he supposed [see, Lucy, I remembered!] to know that that girl’d want that…that he’d end up…that he would probably experience some difficulties getting rid of this one because she had that particular twist to her personality which said: stalker material. Augh.

“Who’s it?” Came Zach’s voice when Gary, failing to open the door, was forced to bang against it instead.

“Me,” answered Gary, immensely relieved that someone was doing what they were supposed to be doing. (In the case of Zach, this meant being inside of his room.) He heard Zach say something, and wondered who he was talking to, before the door opened to allow his entrance.

“Hey,” said Mike, looking, with his expression and colour of clothing, like a lowering storm cloud. “Mind closing the door behind you?”

“You alright?” Asked Zach.

“Yes and no,” said Gary, immediately retreating to theatrics in order to hide his true horror of the events that had unfolded earlier that day. “You guys know I had a date, right?”

“Right,” agreed Zach, checked out of the door again, made a face, then closed it.

“And we’ve known each other for a while and I was just…you know…and it was Valentine’s day so I thought…well…flowers…being nice…it’s all your doing,” he added accusingly to Zach, who merely raised his eyebrows with a guileless, ‘who-me’ look. “And she…she got all soppy and…and…she used the L-word, you know?”

“She didn’t,” Mike managed to choke out, and hurriedly turned around to hide his expression.

Zach and Gary looked at each other. Zach gave a one shouldered shrug.

At least that seemed to have made someone feel better.

“She did,” whined Gary mournfully, feeling it entirely unfair that someone seemed to be enjoying his present pains. An uncomfortable heat was creeping up his face. “So what the hell do I do now?”

“L-word?” Zach’s lips twitched. Gary suddenly wondered if Zach was also deriving some sort of satisfaction from his current state of misery since he was always very disapproving of what he called his date-and-dump strategy. “That’s devotion for you,” murmured Zach. “I’m guessing that the attraction is not mutual?”

Gary muttered something that was pithy and to the point. Mike, managing a Rubik’s cube, made noises that could only be described as cackling. “What do I do?” He growled. “I don’t want to end up with a stalker or anything.”

“First of all,” said Zach, “What did you do after she used the word ‘love?’” He ignored Gary’s instinctive cringe. “How’d the date turn out?”

“Um. I’m not sure.” Oh God oh God why couldn’t these things come with directions? Though he supposed that at some levels he must’ve earned some sort of punishment, but certainly not this. Girls were really deeply horrifying things, why hadn’t he noticed that before? “I think I just sort of…left.”

“Oh, man,” was Mike’s well-expressed comment.

“Well, hell,” muttered Zach. “I don’t think we can do anything at this point so, er, Mike was suggesting that we get Nick and go out for lunch somewhere far, far away and flee the general site of trauma, so to speak, want to come?”

“Yeah,” said Gary fervently. Friends were a great comfort in times like these, even though there was a draft blowing directly at him from the window which was open for some odd reason. “Far, far, far away—what’re these?” He asked, noticing some boxes scattered across the room for the first time, now that he was no longer blinded by his own panic. Horrified, yes, and deeply traumatized, but not blinded.

Zach gave Mike a sympathetic, but also amused, look.

“If you mention one word about Joe Flanigan…” warned Mike, going slightly pink.

“Who?” Zach asked blankly.

“What?” asked Gary, confused, and when no one responded, continued. “Right. Anyway.” He poked at the boxes. “Are these food?”

“Eurgh,” said Mike. “Chocolates. I think. Want some? Want all of them?”

“Happy Valentine’s day,” added Zach.

“Argh,” groaned Mike and Gary, in unison.

[The V-day terrors as I was informed by the various guys from my floor and from work. AHEM.]