1989 School Magazine

The windows ot' the Mger Centre t'illed with cushioned red hearts embroidered with "l I U" messoges in white' Stuffed toy bears clutching such hearts seemed to be the craie this'gear, and shelues ouerflowed with them' each bear in a range oJ sizes. Stationery shops were crowded with male customers and uery pink cards, inuariably decorated with flowers, and containing a cliched, romantic rhgme. The more expensiue musical cards now boasted cilour.d lights, which ftashed round loue'hearts as the card shrilled out'Lauender's BIue' or'Clementine'. Flower stalls sprouted in arcades and on street corners, laden with large rignt proclaiming "SPECIAL DISCOUNT t'o' VAIETVTiTVES DAY: 12 ROSES FOR THE PRICE OF 8!'' Helium, heart-shaped, siluer balloons bobbed and bulged obscenely in bunches. Small bouquets were made look bigger with rut'fs of paper lace choking the necks of the prim br.rds. "You sending your girlt'riend a Valentine?" the boys asked each other. "No-one's sending Cathy one but me," the sports' captain threatened possessi uelg . "I'm leauing o real ted rose t'or her at the front desk." "Oh how romantic," jeered one oJ the first eleuen' "Shut gour t'ace," retaliated the captain. He listened. He thought. Maybe that'd be the best way to reach her. He knew he would always be too 'gutless' to just start a conuersation with her, and Valentine cards are anon- 9mous... That night r.uos o school concert. He dutiJully played in the orchestra. then watched the rest ol it There she was in the Concert Band, and again, in all the choirs/ "So she must like mustc," he thought. She appeared agoin in the t'lute quintet' and next to the other stooping t'lautists she looked more graceful than he could haue belieued. "l bet she does danc- ing or gyn't or something," he thought. "Dancers always moue with a certain something: a lit't to the chin and an erectness that separates them t'rom other people' But so mang of them look pretentious." He watched her smile at the ionductor and nudge a t'riend "she could neuer look afJected; she smi/es and moues so naturally' Bet the other gi'rls try to copg her 'cos they're jealcus." It certainly appear:ed that wag. Mang girls' eyes followed her enuiously os she walked off-stage. That same night he decided he would. He would send her an anonymous Valentine. There u)as time enough t'or posting. "But I'm not going to send jusl any of those reuolting commercial cards. Mine will be special Once she sees it she'll understand and there'll be no need to work out how to start uP a conuersation " How to make it? He thought about her t'or a while: the grace with u)hich she walked, the sot't line of her curls. the brightness of her eyes peeping up under her hair. which gaue her that bird-like daintiness... "The best way to capture all that," he decided, "is in music. Whateuer anyone lhinks. music can say a lot more than i.uords. and say it a lot more eloquently, without just sounding sopp7." So he found a book of manuscript and drat'ted a melody. with a sketchy chordal accompaniment. "h hos lo suif the instrument." He ran through it in dit't'erent keys on the piano. but the piano had the u)rong mood and timbre. So, urhol instrument? He

He shook his head. Maybe he was unobseruant, but all those girls looked t'airlg scrawng to him. Certainly none of them had q serious weight problem. What strange things girls were neurotic about! Who would care angway? "lt' Michael saw me this t'at he'd probably drop me," sighed one girl dolefullg. He thought she looked as common and weedy as the rank straggling blade grass at his bus stop. But then he knew of a girl as beautit'ul as an elegant orchid in a florist's shop. "And summer's coming up. I'm too scared to euen get into togs now!" sympathised a girl who had the t'igure of a lead pencil. "Do you want to go to aerobics on Wednesday aruies? They're holding c/osses in the gym at school." "Yea, might as well..." Some bogfriend if he'd drop a girl t'or that sort of reason. Anyway he thought, she didn't need to worrg about things Iike that. She could neuer look like ouer'cooked pasta, nor could she look as lanky as limp spaghetti. The bus was spewing out students at the school stop. He waited till the rush subsided then made t'or the door. Just as he stepped down he glanced behind him. She stood there! "No - nol lt's quite O.K. - I can manage... I'm sorrg about this," he stammered, desperately tugging at the instrument. It dislodged and he stumbled out of the bus. "Don't worry about it," she smiled. "I t'ell down the bus steps a few days ago, with a whole lot of you guys watching. Flat on my face! And that t'elt worse!" They stared at each other. Did he just imagine something t'lash between them? She picked up her bag. "Seeya!" she shouted as she headed off for the school gate. He raised his hand in response, and lifting the ot't'ending uiola, walked to the Music Department, rather dazed. She had spoken to him! And she uos os tuon- derful as he'd always thought. "Seeya," he whispered to her disappearing schoolba His uio/o case jammed in the door. "Here, Iet me help you," she said.

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