I'd be swimmin with the fishes

So it's Valentines Day, and I awoke to this shimmery fish giving me the one eyed stare as if to gloat in the misery that this day, and all it stands for, evokes in my heart. Not that I don't like boys, or love, or loving boys! because those just so happen to be a few of my favorite things. But I simply haven't had much success in said field during my life and valentines day is a keen reminder. Not that constant canoodlers in the lobby don't regularly do the job quite nicely, but I feel it more acutely as I'm gagging over dinner plans and bouquets floating around. But why would my darling roommate Lauren give me a Fish Valentine? oh yes to really rub it in by reminding me of the worst romantic experience of my life. Here is the story:
I'm a happy- go- lucky senior, young and blissfully unaware of that little thing called love. It's a friday afternoon just like any other as far as I'm aware, when I waltz into the orchestra room for band and notice my darling asian son austin teetering towards me like an anxious toddler with a ridiculous look on his face, even more so than the usual gittyness sported by sophomores everywhere. His delight doubled when he found that he was be the first to break the news to me that Spencer, the scrawny clarinet that sat behind us, who focused so hard on his playing that his eyes welled up and his fingers and cheeks turned blue, was planning on asking me to prom. The next hour of my life dragged on, with every squeak from the clarinets behind us like a dagger to my heart. I tried to shake the experience by taking my time talking with friends in the hallways who, after teasing me, cheerfully reassured me that it was an insane rumor that would never be fulfilled. When I finally made home however, to my great horror my sophomore brother, John, seemed to be the spittin image of austin as he rushed out to greet me and say that I needed to go up to my bedroom. In Utah, as if the entire formal dance process wasn't horrible enough, we throw on extravagant asking which then must be returned by an equally embarrassing display to answer. I bounded up the stairs, yelling at John demanding he tell me all he knew, threw open my bedroom door, john on my heels, and to my absolute horror saw in my bed, gigantic dead fish. multiple. dead fish. in my bed.
It gets worse.
In one of the bags (they were, thankfully in ziplocks - which don't really keep out the smell by the way.) there was a paper that said "I'd be swimmin with the fishes if you didn't go to prom with me. -Spencer" NO WAY! Think back - Saved by the Bell - Screech - that is Spencer to a Tee, which I try to explain to John. I also told him how I have never heard this boy say a cohesive sentence and that I firmly believe he is completely socially unaware and should never leave his house, and that I do not think I can bring myself to go with him. John seems to be an extremely good listener at this point, letting me rant for a good five minutes before I finish, but then he really shocked me by simply replying "and come on out Spencer!" No. NO! I thought he was joking for a split second but the blood drained immediately from my face as my closet door swings open and there is spencer. Why didn't John stop me? why didn't spencer come out? WHY was he hiding in my closet and why on earth did he ask me to prom!? I squeak out "what a surprise!" somehow hoping that he hadn't heard my shouts that were probably audible across the street. He sheepishly replied "You don't have to go with me I guess..." but I say "I'd love to!" Ill answer you for real in a couple days. I'm on my way to dance right now. See you later!" and then I ran out of my house and went to dance, 45 minutes early without any dance clothes - the least of my problems.
And so I went to prom with Spencer. And yes, it was the most awkward experience of my entire life, but how could it have been otherwise with a start like that?

and so I shall put this fish on the back of my shelf and continue to try to block this terribly painful memory from my mind