Sebastian wasn't a meticulous person. He was clean, but he cut around the corners often. He was confident that he'd end up like both his parents and his sister, absolutely wired, one day, but, to be fair, he was a teenage boy. He kept after himself, his stuff and his affairs probably better than any of his peers, but that only put him slightly above average. Still, he considered his room to be a relatively clean space: shoddily made bed, only two pairs of shoes out of the closet and the faint smell of last night's leftovers that he had only recently thrown away. However, much like the rest of the Smythe family living in the home, when the maid was inbound (a thrice a week affair), he tended to clean his area with more fervor than before. Of course, that was her job after all, wasn't it? But something about letting someone of a lower class than the family see them living in any amount of squalor was humiliating, and this sentiment was felt throughout the home (and previous homes) for all time. That Thursday evening, Sebastian took to cleaning at his room before deciding that the area wouldn't really be afforded a deep clean for a few months– Christmas was quickly approaching and afterwards he would be practicing tennis as often as he took breath. So, he started with his dresser and moved to his bed. For the first time in years, he lifted the covers to view what was beneath the bed's frame; Sebastian quickly discovered a few boxes full of paperwork, school achievements, participation awards and dental records. He hadn't shifted through any of them at any point ever, but he wasn't particularly keen on the entire cleaning thing (he only thought that it was a good idea). In turn, he opened the first box, and he was delighted to find yearbooks from elementary school, including photos of him and people that he hadn't even realized he remembered the names of.
"Nick,' he mused to himself. "Wonder where he went."
Sebastian closed yearbook after yearbook before getting to a bundle of what seemed to be store-bought cards (occasionally intermingled with cards made of Construction Paper) bound together with an elastic rubber band. Undoing the rubber band, Sebastian searched for any cards from his current friends, as he would love to bring up their kind (yet superficial) words the next time he saw them. He flipped through card after card, not recognizing any of the names as peers that he still maintained, until he got to a purple, cardstock card with a smiley face drawn on the front with a black crayon engulfed in flowers of all varieties. He knew it at once. His face grew red as he smirked and opened the hamburger-folded Valentine's Day note.
"Brittany told me she got you a card."
"Well, she got everybody a card, you have to,' Sebastian said, wiping strawberry milk from his mouth. "That's what Miss Tracey said; you have to bring everybody a card."
Nick shrugged. "She got you a card, that's all she told me."
"Yeah, she has a crush on you,' Trent began.
Jeff snickered. "Is that your girlfriend?"
"Is that your girlfriend,' Sebastian repeated, mocking the boy. "No. I'm dating your mom."
"My dad can literally beat you up, Sebastian."
"No, he can't. I'm faster than him."
They all rubbed their noses subconsciously and shared the same food and traded sports cards over their packed lunches before whining more about faux-girlfriends and what they had for dinner last night. Brittany, a blonde girl with two long french braids on either side of her head, walked up towards their table, smiled at all the boys before her eyes landed on Sebastian.
"Hi, Sebastian."
He straightened his back. "What's up?"
"So, I got everybody in class a card, but the box my mommy bought only had twenty-two and when we went back to get another box, the store was closed, but I told my mom I could just make the twenty-third card, and when I thought about who was meanest to me in class, it was you, so I just drew your card. If you're nice to me next year, I'll make sure you get one of the cards from the store too."
Sebastian deflated and gave the girl a thumb's up. "Got it, dude."
The table was quiet as Brittany skipped away, oblivious and completely well meaning.
"Dang,' Trent began. "That was mean."
"I don't care,' Sebastian started quickly, opening up a red bag of chips. "She's stupid anyway."
Jeff began: "When were you even mean to her?"
Sebastian shrugged. "I told her she looked like someone bleached her hair with a highlighter on the first day of school, but— I didn't think she'd remember that."
"Did you tell her sorry?"
"Miss Tracey made me. She was crying."
Nick nodded. "I remember that… That's not that big of a deal, not enough to not give you a card."
Sebastian talked with an entire glob of food in his mouth. "Like I said: she is el stupido."
"We comprendo,' Jeff said to the amusement of all four boys. They began to laugh as the lunch time bell rang, and they packed all of their things. The boys started a slow trek back to their classroom behind the line leader and all of the other students feigning excitement to go back to their environment of learning. Sebastian and his friends pushed and kicked each other in the back of the line and took a sip at every water fountain they encountered. When finally having returned to Miss Tracey's classroom, they all filed into their seats and listened to the instructions that were to come. The petite woman took her place in the front of the classroom and held up a relatively large piece of cardboard cut into the shape of a heart and painted red.
"Can anybody tell me what today is?"
Hands shot up around the classroom.
She pointed at one of the children who gleefully shouted: "Valentine's Day!"
"Valentine's Day is correct; today we celebrate the memory of St. Valentine who was a martyr. Does anyone know what a martyr is?"
"Someone who died,' someone shouted without raising their hand, but as they were surrounded by other children (who still perceived such bluntness as comical), the room exploded into laughter.
Miss Tracey cringed a bit, but smiled through the pain, placing the cardboard cut-out heart onto the chalk ledge of the board. She clasped her hands together. "Someone who died, yes, but usually due to religious persecution or because of a cause they stood up for because they believed in it. Today, however, you likely won't ever have to suffer from anything that would cause you to be persecuted because the Constitution protects our rights to freedom, religion, speech and many, many other things! That means on Valentine's Day we can think of nicer things than death,' she tried to gear the topic towards a nicer ending having noted the grim look on the face of some of the children. "We get to eat candy instead."
The room exploded in applause.
"Now— class, we can't start until you're quiet,' and they hushed. She moved back to her desk and took a seat. "I'm going to call you all one by one, and you're going to quietly come to my desk, so I can give you a Valentine's Day card from me, and then you have permission to go to your backpack and bring out your Valentine's Day cards from home, alright? You can pass them out to everyone and then return to your desk. Make sure you're looking at the name tags on people's desks, so that no one gets the wrong card! You can hand it to the person it belongs to or put it on their desk. Does that make sense?"
Nods before a hand shot up— "Can we eat the candy now?"
"Yes,' Miss Tracey sighed. "You can eat the candy now."
Soon, the classroom was teaming with giggling seven and eight year olds, and most of them had sticky fingers already. Sebastian was playing tug-of-war with Brittany.
"You already told me you didn't get me a card, so I don't have to give you mine."
She was eyeing the full piece of chocolate attached to his card (a keynote of Tierney Smythe: she was going to be impressive every mile of the race). "Sebastian, that's not fair, I told you why I didn't get you a card. Don't blame me; blame my mom."
He snickered. "I'm not mad at your mom, she's hot. I'm mad at you."
Brittany gasped. "I'm telling."
Sebastian shrugged. "Then I guess you'll really never get my Valentine's Day card."
She crossed her fingers as if in prayer, dropping some of her own cards in humiliation. Sebastian handed over his card with a foolish grin. "You look like you're about to cry."
The running around continued for another twenty minutes before Miss Tracey made an announcement that they had only five minutes to finish; some of the children had already sat down and determined that anyone else who needed to serve them would have to come to their desk: candy in hand. Another third went into hyperdrive, and the last third moved even slower, taking in their last few minutes of organized chaos. Sebastian got to his last card and found the exact person he was looking for waiting curiously behind him as if she had been waiting to speak. Her hands were empty.
"I put your card on your desk already,' Mercedes began, nibbling on her bottom lip. Her thick curly hair was in two pigtails on each side of her head, and she wore a yellow and pink border tee with Funshine Bear and the sun square in the center. Her bootcut jeans wafted on the floor, covering a pair of worn-in Chuck Taylors.
"I couldn't find you, so that's why you're last. It's not on purpose,' he handed the card over to the girl, equipped with a big piece of sweet taffy coated with sour pieces of candy. Mercedes beamed.
"This is gigantic! Wow! Thanks, Sebastian!"
"Don't think too much about it,' he blushed. She had been the only one to appreciate the sheer size of the candy he gave out; the others had noted it, but no one had thanked him. Everyone was so excited, like rats to a king, but no one had taken much time to remember the reason for the season: love!
Mercedes went in for a hug quickly, and while it was unexpected to him, Sebastian hugged the girl back, gathering a strong waft of fruity essence from her hair. Very soon after, everyone was back at their desk, and then it was time for recess. Everyone brought their candy outside in a grocery bag, and they spent more time picking through what they would eat than they did playing on the playground equipment. Not that they didn't want to play, but they were already at the age where suspicions regarding stealing lay rampant. No one wanted to leave their candy bag unattended, and the few who had a serious itch for the slide went down with the bag in tote.
Sebastian was walking towards the garbage bin to throw away empty wrappers (he hated clutter) when he ran into Mercedes once more. He gave her a head's up and placed all the plastic in the trash before she approached him.
"I,' she had something in her hand. She took a few steps away from the bin, a gathering place, enticing Sebastian to follow after. He placed his bag of candy on the ground when he realized Mercedes didn't have one with her at all (it did seem a bit silly to him when he thought about it).
"What's up?"
"I actually didn't put your card on your desk,' she muttered through. Mercedes brought her hands from around her back and presented Sebastian with a purple card.
He took it from her hands tentatively and flipped it over.
"Did you put the candy on my desk?"
Having forgotten, Mercedes proceeded to pull a large lollipop from her back pocket with a smile. Handing it over, she twisted her foot in the dirt nervously.
"You forgot to give me this or is it special,' Sebastian raised his eyebrow. He took the candy from her with a smile, bending down to put it in his bag.
"Well, it's different than everyone else's, and I wrote you a note. I just signed 'Mercedes' in all of the other boys' cards. I wrote notes for my friends though."
"It looks like you printed it." There were a multitude of 2-D images of flowers on the front of the purple card, imposed on by a crudely drawn smiley face in black crayon. In fading red marker, hardly showing up on the paper, read: Happy Valentines Day.
"I asked my momma to print it off at work; she works at the hospital. There's a giant printer there."
"Cool,' Sebastian responded. He flipped the card over again. "This is cool. Thanks."
"You can read it now, if you want. You don't have to though."
Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. "You said all you did was sign your name."
Mercedes shook her head with conviction. "I said I wrote you a note; you don't listen. I said all I did was sign my name for everyone who wasn't my friend."
He smirked. "We're friends?"
Sebastian began to open the card, and Mercedes was growing too flustered to be nervous any longer.
"I've known you since we were, like, born, of course we're friends. Don't be stupid."
Sebastian shrugged, showing charisma beyond his years. "I'm not being anything,' he joked.
Just as Sebastian was beginning to read the card, he heard the shrill tune of Miss Tracey's whistle, indicating that it was time to go back inside for recess. He saw Mercedes's face drop, but they were only servants to the whistle. He shrugged and promised to read it later before this time initiating a hug with the girl. All the same, he grabbed his candy bag and left her in the dust.
Sitting criss-crossed in his bed, Sebastian glanced over the failing cursive and remembered that the students had just learned how to write in cursive at the beginning of that school year. The card wasn't illegible but it took him a few times to feel that he fully understood what was written.
'Dear Sebastian,
Thank you for being my freind and always playing with me or getting some one else to come and play with me. you are one of my bestest freinds and i love you! when we get oldur we can have kids and get maryed or steal be freinds if you want. we can have a play date this sumer. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!'
He hadn't read the card in years, probably not since the second grade, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember if he had actually ever mentioned it to her ever again as a child. Still, Sebastian knew that he recognized that it was romantic, even as a second-grader, but he seemed to remember it being longer (and better written). All the same, as a eight year old, everything seemed more grandiose to him at the time. He couldn't help smiling as he placed the card on his desk instead of back into the box. He'd wait for the right time to bring it back into Mercedes's attention; it'd be the ultimate joke: their earliest callback. Something about it all, however, was quite sad. They had both been so innocent and kind back then, and even though they couldn't have been the greatest of friends or known each other well, it was almost as if having acquired no other guilt and no other shame had made them the purest version of themselves. There was so much baggage and distance between them now.
Of course, now, she would never say something so out-landish to him regarding marriage and children, but he still had a habit of running away.
