Valentines Part 1
"I can't believe it's almost Valentine's Day already!" moaned Malcolm. He heaved a gigantic sigh before continuing with his breakfast.
"Why don't you like Valentine's Day?" Lois asked him.
"Because I never have a Valentine! Plus, even if I did like somebody, I wouldn't be able to get up the courage to ask her to be my Valentine!" Malcolm replied. "But I don't! I don't like anybody, that is," he continued hastily.
"What are we going to do for Valentine's Day, Lois?" inquired Hal.
"Well, I made reservations for us at the Morganna Café, and the boys will all be sleeping over at someone else's house, so we'll have the night to ourselves," Lois smiled at Hal and winked.
"The Morganna Café?" exclaimed Hal. "That's the most expensive restaurant in town! We don't have enough money to go there."
"I've been working overtime. We have more than enough to eat there. We can even order appetizers, soup, and dessert!"
"Reese, are you all right? You're being very quiet. You're never quiet," observed Hal.
"Huh? Oh, I'm fine," Reese hastily lowered his head to his plate and shoveled food into his mouth, carefully avoiding the gaze of his family members.
"A girl in my class asked me to be her Valentine," Dewey piped up.
"Yeah right. Who would want you to be their Valentine?" snorted Malcolm.
"Emily Woodberry."
"Emily Woodberry?" Lois said. "She's still at your school? I thought that her parents sent her off to boarding school because she was always starting fires!"
"She doesn't do that anymore. At first, I didn't like her, because she ate all my crayons, but then she said she liked me!" chattered Dewey.
"Emily ate your crayons?" Hal questioned.
"Yup. And during art, she ate my glue and my sparkles." Dewey smiled at his father as he drank his milk.
"Well, she sounds very…interesting," announced Lois. "How about you, Reese? Do you have anyone in mind for your Valentine?"
"No one! No one at all! Can I be excused?" Reese leapt up from the table, and raced into his room.
"What's wrong with him?" wondered Hal.
"I know, I know. I'll go talk to him," Malcolm exhaled noisily, and walked into his bedroom.
When Malcolm entered the room, he noticed that his brother was hunched over his yearbook, gazing at one of the pictures. Malcolm leaned over his shoulder to see who he was looking at.
"Reese, why are you staring at Cassandra MacKenzie?"
"I'm not staring at her! I'm-I'm-I'm…leave me alone!" Reese shouted angrily.
"Chill out!" said Malcolm. "I won't tell anybody."
Reese stared mournfully at her picture. "I wish she would be my Valentine. But there's no way I could ever tell her. What do I do?"
"Well, you could write her a note," Malcolm replied.
"I'm not good at writing! I ain't no good at no grammar! Unless…" pondered Reese.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you wrote it for me! You're a great writer! Will you do it? Please? For me?" Reese pleaded.
Malcolm took a moment to think to himself. Should I help him out? He's never done anything nice for me in his life! In fact, he does all kinds of horrible stuff to me! I wish I could get him back for some of it! Hey, I've got an idea. I'll write the note to Cassandra, but when she finishes reading it, she'll hate his guts, not love him!
"Sure, I'd be glad to help," Malcolm said.
"Thanks! I owe you one!" Reese grinned happily at his brother, grabbed his backpack, and walked out of the room. Malcolm grinned too, as he sat down and began to write.