Story: Being too shy to confess face to face, you decide to give Kyle a challenge to figure it out himself.
He sighed loosely, sulking off to his locker. Valentine's day was coming up and everyone had someone to celebrate it with... But not Kyle. Not poor, sweet Kyle.
Three days til... He thought glumly, opening his locker. To his surprise, a piece of paper fluttered out. He grasped it quickly, desperately, even, to read it.
I want to be your valentine.
Find me out early and you might earn a kiss!
Three days' all you have,
Just as much as I know you.
Maybe ask a friend or two,
Like someone in a hat that's red and blue.
Kyle felt his heart soar abruptly, reading the note over and over. He slammed his locker shut and leaned his back to it, note pressed to his chest.
So the hint was with Stan, huh? He thought excitedly. This was it! He would get a Valentine! He dashed off to the lunch table his clique shared to talk about it.
Quickly grabbing lunch from the line, he slid into his seat and spoke quickly, "Stan! I got a Valentine's poem in my locker and it says you have a hint on who wrote it!"
Stan, who was sipping his milk, choked on it at the statement and shot milk out of his nose. Kenny instantly burst out laughing. When the coughing fit ended and the ravenette settled back down, he glared over.
"Yeah, I do. But next time wait til I'm not drinking something?!"
"I neeeed that hint, though! I have until Valentine's day to find out who it is!" Kyle brought up, shovelling a spoonful of corn into his mouth.
"Yeah, yeah, here you go..."
Stan scoffed and recited what he was told.
"We share our pottery class."
"Pottery class?" He remained puzzled, but kept it in mind for the rest of the day.
"Hah! Some fucking sissy in a pottery class likes Kahl!" Cartman wheezed, "Probably a dumb trick to make fun of him being a lonely jew!"
"Shut up, fatboy! At least I have a valentine!" He sneers back.
So lunch came and went, the poem still on his mind day in and day out. In pottery class, he eyed around at every person there. He had to weed out just who exactly wrote that poem!
He knew it couldn't be anyone he didn't know, so a majority of the class was off the table. He couldn't recognize the handwriting either so it can't be any of the guys there.
The day ended and like in school, the romantic words written just for him were locked in his brain all afternoon and far into the night.
Morning of the next day came and he rushed to his locker for the next note. Sure enough, it was there!
You should find your flow,
Like the way your curls dance in the wind.
Never in my life, would I give such advice,
To a boy that's as charming as you.
Piece by piece, that's my plan.
Ike should know the next hint.
Kyle chewed at his lip and looked over a paper where he had written the names of his pottery classmates. Who does he know that knows Ike and shares a pottery class with him? He narrowed down more people by crossing our more names.
He groaned and set his head on his desk. The others looked at him sympathetically (except for Cartman, who started laughing his ass off.)
You give a slight smile to Kyle and his struggle, shaking your head and slipping out of the doorway unnoticed...
The day came and the final poem was received...
Hope you found my game fun.
I saw the frustration that was on your face...
But now it's time to show my shape.
Place a note with my name inside.
At 4:23, head down Cherry Street,
Turn the corner and me you shall meet.
His breath shuddered as he slid the paper into the designated locker and left to start his school down, a determined smile on his face. He hoped he got it right... He spent so long trying to figure it out.
You paced around the corner. It was 4:18 and he was nearly there, you presumed. You gripped the paper from the locker that has your name on it. He got it right... And that was about to be proven to him.
Kyle took a deep breath. 4:22, and he rounded the corner.
