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Midtown High had a tradition of sorts when it came to Valentine's Day. When February rolled around, posters started popping up all around the school, advertising a certain seasonally-appropriate service. You could have a little gift delivered to a person of your choice on the special day. For a small price, of course. One dollar for a box of candy hearts, two for a small, thematically appropriate stuffed animal, and three for both. You could also add a note, with a message or just your name. This part was optional, which was good for those who preferred to stay anonymous.
Anna Maria had never been one to get very into Valentine's Day. The whole holiday was just kind of... eh. She didn't dislike it; the whole lovey-dovey theme, while sappy, was pretty cute. She just didn't really care for it. Especially considering the fact that the main focus was on romantic love. She hadn't had a romantic partner in years. She'd barely had any romantic relationships in her life, period. She'd tried a few times, but it hadn't worked out. It wasn't something she was ashamed of, just a fact of life. Anyway, Valentine's Day. Not really her thing. The school tradition was nice, but she'd never had a reason to take part in it.
So when three upperclassmen entered the room in the middle of third period and softly announced that they were going to be handing out valentines, she prepared to tune them out while she wrote some things down (mostly just things in her planner so she wouldn't forget them later). She heard them call out a few names, but she didn't pay attention to who it was. She wasn't jealous, no. Getting a gift was nice and all, but she didn't care whether or not she-
"Anna Maria Marconi." She was yanked out of her thoughts at the mention of her name. Did she hear that right? It seemed so, as when she looked up she saw several people looking back at her, including the students handing out the valentines. Made sense, people tended to remember who she was. Still though, it looked like they were waiting for some form of confirmation. She half-raised her hand.
"That would be me." One of the students trotted over to her and handed her a small, light brown stuffed bear holding a red heart in its hands. It had a pink sticky-note stuck to its back. The student ran back to their friends, and they looked like they were trying to stifle giggles. Were they laughing at her, or...? Whatever. Who cared what they were laughing at? They finished up and left, the teacher told the students to put any valentines in their bags or under their chairs, reminding them that eating candy in class was prohibited, and everything resumed as normal.
Anna Maria knew she had a good chunk of time before she was needed, so she turned her attention to the gift she'd just gotten. It was very soft. Considering they'd most likely gotten it at the Dollar Store, it was pretty nice. She turned it over to look at the note. To her surprise, she found more than just a signature. There was an actual message written in small, enigmatic handwriting. It wasn't sloppy, it was just... very fast. But legible, if she read carefully.
Would you like to get coffee sometime? Or some other beverage. It doesn't have to be a beverage at all, if that's what you would prefer.
Down at the bottom, the note was signed not with a name, but with a little cartoon octopus.
She'd finished reading, but she couldn't stop staring at it. This was... unexpected. Really, this was the last thing she would've possibly expected, ever. She'd definitely gotten vibes that... but ,em>this... She wanted to laugh, but she didn't want to disturb the class. She put a hand up to her face so the students wouldn't see the smile that she couldn't hold back.
This man, I swear to God...
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Otto was struggling. He was not one to get anxious about things, but he'd had this feeling of anxiety the entire day he hadn't been able to shake. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, these "butterflies", as some might call them, just wouldn't leave him alone. They might fade into the background and times, but never fully away. Even worse, he knew the source of his anxiety, but there still wasn't a thing he could do about it.
Today was Valentine's Day. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at the holiday. He would've found it meaningless, stupid. The pinks and reds, the candy, the incessant focus on romance of all things. It was all so treacly. He wouldn't have understood why anyone would ever waste their time on it.
However, it just so happened that he was currently in a stage in his life that he wouldn't have regarded as "normal circumstances". A lot of things were changing quite rapidly, and he was finding himself getting dangerously close to understanding why someone would waste their time with such things as Valentine's Day. So when he saw the posters suddenly appearing around the school, Otto had made what very well could've been a terrible choice.
All the risks you've taken in your life, he thought to himself, and this is the one that's terrifying you. He knew this amount of worrying was inane and irrational, and he knew he was overthinking, but he couldn't help it. What if he'd had a moment of shortsightedness? People in love did illogical things, as he knew, and he would be foolish to label himself as an exception, even with his critical thinking skills. All of the unfamiliar hormone cocktails running around in his brain could very easily have impaired his judgment, making him think that the decision he'd made in a moment of audaciousness had been in any way a good one. What if she didn't like the gift? Would she find it endearing, or was it just tacky?
As he knew would happen, a trio of students came in during third period. He paused the lesson, feigning ever-so-slight irritation at having been interrupted, but he could feel the butterflies coming back. His head was full of what-ifs and ideas he knew were fatuous, but that he couldn't block out. They finished handing out the few gifts and he noticed them looking in his direction as they left, doing a poor job of hiding their grins. They knew. He knew they knew. But they also happened to be students in his class, and he'd threatened them with reduction of their overall grade if they told anyone, and they were wise enough to know that he wasn't one to be trifled with. They didn't scare him. Even so, them having such knowledge only added fuel to the possibility in his mind that he&'d made a grievous error. The only thing that brought him some semblance of solace was the fact that the whole handing-out routine occurred after lunch. He doubted he would've been able to face Anna Maria had she gotten the gift before.
The rest of the day went as normal as it could've gone: teach class, go home, help the Spider Gang out with their patrols until well into the night. He hadn't heard anything from Anna Maria yet. The suspense was slowly becoming more and more unbearable. He tried to keep it from affecting his performance, but he could tell that the others had likely caught on to the fact that he was little distracted. Honestly, he didn't know if he even wanted to hear from her. Well, that was silly, of course he wanted to hear from her, but... goodness, he really hadn't thought this through, had he? For shame, Octavius.
Needless to say, sleep was a bit hard to come by that night.
He came to school the next day feeling almost sick. Why hadn't she responded yet? She'd gotten the valentine, right? It just felt like she should've said something about it by now. He would've gladly taken rejection at this point. Anything was better than this.
As usual, he got there ahead of most of the other teachers. Before going to his room he decided to made a quick detour to the office to see if he'd gotten any mail. He said a quick hello to the secretary, then went to the back to check. Just a few papers, it seemed. And one other thing. A box. The pink color caught his eye. He reached in and grabbed it. As he pulled it out he could hear something, somethings, rattle around inside.
Candy hearts. It was a small box of candy hearts. With a sticky note attached.
His pulse went from zero to one hundred. Everything went from zero to one hundred. Any butterflied that had fluttered away overnight came back, with friends. He tried to calm himself. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. He tried to look inconspicuous as he glanced around the office. No one else was there, just him and the secretary, who had their back turned. Otto swallowed thickly and pulled off the sticky note. Written on it in neat, orderly handwriting were the words:
Where and when?