Literature
Cupid's Valentine Disaster
My name is Cupid. Yes, like the winged baby who shoots people with love arrows. I've heard that one more times than I can count. Goofy name aside, I’ve always been pretty lucky with love. Being six foot four and the quarterback of the football team probably helped a lot. On a related note, the story of how I suffered the worst humiliation of my life and found love (in that order), began on Friday the week before Valentine’s Day. Everyone expected me to ask Stephanie, the school’s popular “mean girl” out to the big Valentine’s dance, but she wasn’t my type. Honestly, she and her friends kind of scared me. There was also that creepy girl Melissa. She comes from one of the town’s oldest families and there are a lot of strange stories about them and the creepy old house they live in. That wouldn’t bother me as much if I wasn’t sure she stole the hairbrush from my locker two weeks ago. My heart belonged to Miranda Malkins. She wasn’t in the popular crowd, but she wasn’t the cliché