Here's a Rose. Are You Happy Now?

Where are the days when one could react to an “I love you” with a simple…”Thank you”? If only life was a bad, romantic, comedy movie…But no. There is one day in the year, where one cannot avoid the awkward ‘side hug’ from a total stranger, those anonymous, sometimes very inappropriate, love letters, and dare I not forget, the single red rose. Yes, Valentine’s Day had arrived at Prestige Academy, in its full glittery glory!

Almost everything with a flat surface was boldly decorated with cut-outs of red hearts and meaningful love quotes, not to mention, the red ribbons tied around almost every chair and stair railing in and around the Academy. The students also took part in the Valentine’s Day spirit by dressing up in different colours, reflecting their relationship statuses; Green (for single), orange (for it’s complicated), red (for taken) and random (for, “I wish I knew what was going on here”). The love was almost tangible, as everybody shared a hug, some laughter and heart shaped pastries, before that first bell had rang us all into order.

The whole lot of us sat giggling, high on happiness and refined sugars. It must have been a diabetic’s worst nightmare as the lovely SRC members, delivered delicious cupcakes (just like your mamma makes them), roses and stalker notes…I mean love letters.

With a cupcake stand and a pair of speakers, the SRC had Prestige Academy in the palm of their hands. As far as the eye could see, one could recognise students laughing, feeding, joking, singing (more like attempting) and here and there, a hopelessly in-love couple conducting a lesson in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

We all survived the lecture-filled day, fuelled by a common thread, other than caffeine-addiction, called happiness. If anyone’s loved-one was far, non-existent or a figure of their imagination, there was always someone there to buy them a heart-shaped something. So even though guy’s wallets were reduced to mere cash-slip holders, and girl’s disappointment reached into the depths of their scrap-booked dairies, there was always someone to offer them another cookie and tell them, “Next time, babe. He’ll come around.”

As the final bell rang, the last of the kisses where blown, and Adele’s “Someone Like You”, was yelled, out of tune, across the street one final time. Then it dawned on everyone, a silent, yet alarming kind of thought…MAN, I NEED TO START GYMMING!

Written by Stef Maritz.