by Kerry Sparks
Chapter 10- Mrs. Oaks Doesn’t Celebrate Valentine’s Day
“We’re not having a Valentine’s Day party this year,” Lindy said sadly.
“What do you mean?” I asked, “Everyone is having a Valentine’s Day party in their homeroom Friday. The principal announced it.”
“Not our homeroom. Mrs. Oaks already said she doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. You were late this morning so you missed it. She broke the news this morning.”
I didn’t get much sleep over the weekend so I overslept. I took a bite of my corndog. It tasted like a sponge. I dipped the sponge in ketchup. Much better.
“Well, that really stinks. What does Mrs. Oaks have against Valentine’s Day?” I asked.
Lindy looked around the cafeteria for spies. She leaned in.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“That’s my job. Secret keeper,” I said.
“Well, Mrs. Oaks is actually Ms. Oaks. She got divorced last year. She just doesn’t want to drop the Mrs. because she’s too embarrassed.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because Mrs. Oaks goes to our church, and she told my mom’s friend who then told my mom. I guess she’s pretty heartbroken. She didn’t want the divorce.”
“Wow. I do feel sorry for her, but she shouldn’t take it out on us. I want my chocolate,” I pouted, folding my arms.
“Me too. But there isn’t anything we can do about it,” said Lindy.
“Unless…,” I said, getting a gleam in my eye.
“Uh, oh. What are you up to Jen?” she asked, worried.
“What if we find her a man by Valentine’s Day?” I asked.
“Jen, Valentine’s Day is in four days! How’re you going to pull that off?”
“We’ll have to work fast. Who’s single at this school?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Mr. Lego? I don’t see a ring on his finger,” said Lindy.
“Lindy, Mr. Lego is like twenty-four, and Mrs. Oaks is like forty-four. Mr. Lego probably still plays with legos. We need to find someone more mature,” I said.
Lindy giggled.
“Focus!” I ordered.
She cleared her throat. We both sat in silence and picked at our school lunches. I took a bite of corn. It needed some butter and some salt.
“How about our gym teacher? Mr. Freeze?” Lindy suggested.
“That’s an excellent idea! He looks fortyish. Is he single?”
“I don’t know. But we could look for a ring today when we go to gym class,” she said.
“Awesome idea. In the meantime, we’re going to have to get Ms. Oaks into the Valentine’s Day spirit ourselves. Can you write a love poem, sign it anonymous and then sneak it on her desk today?”
“Sure. She’s always in the teacher’s lounge sixth period. I’ll just say that I have to use the restroom sixth period and then drop it on her desk.”
“Perfect!” I said.
“Oh, but you’ve got to stop calling her Ms. Oaks. She still goes by Mrs. Oaks. It’s a secret remember?” Lindy reminded.
“Ok. Could you please deliver the poem to Mrs. Oaks?” I rephrased.
“I’d be glad to,” she said with a smile.
“Valentine’s Day party here we come!” I said.
Lindy and I high-fived.
***
Lindy and I changed in the girls’ locker room into T-shirts and shorts for gym class. I laced up my sneakers.
“Come on!” Lindy said, impatiently.
I untied one of the laces just to mess with her.
“Hold your horses!” I said, “I’ve got to tie these babies, or I’m going to fall flat on my face!”
“I’m just so excited to see Mr. Freeze!” Lindy said, jumping up and down.
Francesca, who was changing nearby, gave Lindy a funny look.
“Keep your voice down. You’re getting weird looks,” I whispered.
I linked arms with Lindy.
“Let’s plow!” I said.
We hurried into the gymnasium. Mr. Freeze blew his whistle.
“Get in line girls! Three laps! Go!” he ordered.
We started jogging. The girls who ran track were at the front of the pack. Lindy and I stayed in the middle. Girls that didn’t want to get sweaty like Francesca and Sadie went at a snail’s pace in the back.
“Pick up the pace Clearwater!” Mr. Freeze shouted.
“I love gym class,” Lindy said with a grin.
“Me too. So did you look?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“And?” I asked, excitedly.
“No ring!” she squealed.
“Awesome!”
“So how’re we going to get these two together?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Let’s brainstorm at lunch,” I said.
Tweet! Mr. Freeze blew his whistle. We went back to the center of the gym. We knew the routine. Jumping jacks, toe touches, sit-ups and pushups. After we did our warm-up, we were told to grab a basketball and shoot around.
“Come on! Let’s go shoot some three pointers,” I said to Lindy.
“But I stink at three pointers!” Lindy whined.
“That’s why we’re going to practice three pointers. Don’t you want to impress the boys?” I asked.
“I guess,” said Lindy.
“Then come on!” I said.