Stuyvesant Cuddle Puddle Resurfaces

In a strange collective fever dream, Stuy has developed a few interesting phenomena.

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Cuffing season. Seasonal depression. Deep, teenage, hormone-fueled pining. Whatever psychologists and high schoolers with too much time and lotion call it, the results are clear. As we approach the colder months, the number of people whining and keening for a premarital hand to hold in these desolate times has dramatically increased across the nation. Of course, Stuyvesant High School is no exception to these sinful activities; in fact, it could be considered a breeding ground for such unholy desires.

Local advisory warns students of all grades to stay away from areas of homoerotic energy and sensual new hotspots of borderline criminal activity in the halls of the school. Such examples include but are not limited to: the senior atrium, the back of the robotics hallway, and the wings of the theater (sources remain deeply traumatized). Though merely rumors and gossip at the time, mentions of a 2006 cuddle puddle have worked their way into popular media, briefly enjoying the spotlight before joining the likes of the SCP Foundation.

Researchers had kept this issue on the backburner as the more pressing issue of students’ missing gym uniforms took precedence, but letting this issue fester has caused it to reach new bases, literally and metaphysically. Recent developments have revealed strange theoretical masses developing around these hot-and-heavy hotspots of semi-platonic action, with hands being held, heads resting on shoulders, and legs intertwining with a delicate touch of the knee.

These theoretical masses, dubbed “Cuddle Puddles” by The New Yorker in 2006, have been hypothesized to be black holes in the making, with local freshmen in the area disappearing mysteriously, never to resurface. Rumors attribute this to a pileup of human bodies compressing into a star-like phenomenon of sweat, exhaustion, and more than one of Mr. Kim’s ties, until eventually collapsing under its own hormones.

Although originally attributed to the New Republic of Thespians (courtesy of Oliver Hollmann, Shakespeare himself) and their wily ways, new insight reveals that the source of these disappearances is the sheer unrestrainable desires built up from years of lockdown and the stress of being within a thousand feet of Dean Brian Moran at any given moment.

Areas of interest are currently being fenced off and studied, but no immediate solution is in sight. However, it is rumored that those who approach these suspicious mounds of activity are drawn in by this rare source of heat in these dark times. So, the administration suggests that during these chilling times, look for a hand to hold and not a limp pile of bodies to step over on your way to class. Stay safe, stay warm, and remember: no premarital unmasking in the hallways.