Valentina: A Valentine Story – Part 3 (The Women I Love)
When we resumed for the second term in January, I had heard hints of a Valentine party from the “big boys” in my class.
Apparently, students from our school have been throwing a party every year that rivals any in town.
Invites to the valentine’s party were exclusive. The organizers had a way of reaching out to those who “should” be in attendance. Everyone else resumes in school the next day salivating for the gist of what went down.
I asked around, and I was informed that only couples got an invite. From what I gathered, a fight had broken out between a boy and someone who was trying to step up to his babe.
That was the last time single folks were allowed in. If fights keep breaking out, the school authority will figure out what was going on and put a stop to it.
The security at the party was so top-notch, no gatecrasher ever made it in. Any attempt to gatecrash would earn you the biggest disgrace of your academic career.
As a boy, single to stupor, I knew I stood no chance of getting an invite, I wistfully awaited the stories of what went down.
The closer we got to Valentine, the more desperate guys got about getting a girlfriend. That was the only way to get an invite.
The girls in the class meanwhile knew they held all the aces. They were quite finicky about accepting any propositions.
Whoever this guy was that was wooing Valentina in this outlandish manner was messing up the chance of other guys getting the girls of their choice.
Which girl will say yes to you without a gift after watching her mate get a flower and a perfume before being asked out at all?
Thankfully, I’m not even in the reckoning. I pity my friends though. The stake has been raised and there is no lowering it.