A/N: I just want to saythanks tomy two lovely reviewers Alisha and Polished Gem! I'm sure you're wondering why I re-posted this chapter. Well, I kind of realized that my definition of cliche wasn't exactly correct in the way I was using it so I rephrased some things. I hope you're not too mad at me. Anyway, to make up for it, I extended this chapter a bit :) Now, I don't want to dissapoint you, but I am awful at updating. I have been having serious writer's block for the past several years. I can come up with ideas for stories but once I get to the actual plot, I don't know how to develop characters or make dialogue sound realistic. I need your help fellow authors!! I don't know what my problem is. I guess I'm just losing my touch. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please, PLEASE help me with writing it! I need all the help I can get!

Cliché’s do not end with two people falling in love. I have proof...actually, I am the proof. I have lived through every cliché you could possibly think of. Well, maybe not every single one, but most of them.

When I was seven, a family moved in next door. They had a son my age and we soon became best friends. Yep, the infamous boy-next-door. Of course, I didn’t know how cliché this was until I was about eleven. Nothing happened even when I knew this. We never had more than friendly feelings for each other. He moved away a few years back and I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. He was my best friend for five years, ok?

Anyway, when I was thirteen, my oldest brother Jimmy had a best friend named Tyler. He was only three years older than me and had a car. These two facts alone could make me have a crush on him, but nope. He was like my brother and I his sister. It’s always been that way and it’s not going to change. Besides, he’s married now with a kid on the way.

In my freshman year of high school, a new kid came into my first period class. He sat next to me for the whole year. We grew to hate each other and nothing else. I don’t know what it was about him that made me dislike him so much.

My junior year of high school brought on yet another cliché. I was walking to my third period class when some guy bumped into me, making me drop my books. He quickly apologized and helped me pick them up. Instead of falling madly in love on the spot, we became good friends and still are to this day. He’s dating my best friend and I think he’s going to propose soon.

My favorite clichéd situation happened when I was in my senior year of high school. I was having some trouble with pre-calculus so I got a tutor, a male tutor. He was one of the popular guys, played on the basketball team. He came over my house three times a week to help me and we rarely talked outside of my house. When my tutoring period was up, we went our own separate ways and I haven’t talked to him since graduation night.

Now, I’m going to contradict myself a little bit on the next one. My best friend since freshman year has an older brother. He’s only two years older than me and let’s just say that I had a slight crush on him... Ok, maybe it was more than a crush. I actually believed that I loved him but of course, he didn’t return my feelings. When I finally got the nerve to tell him, he was in his room making out with a girl in his grade. From that day on, I tried my hardest to get over him and eventually succeeded...a year later. Now do you believe me? All those cheesy clichéd romance stories just don’t happen in real life.

It was just a normal day when I came home from one of my classes to find my mom sitting in my dorm room looking at a Vogue magazine. To most people, this wouldn’t be weird but believe me, it was. You see, my mom and I don’t have a great relationship. We did at one time, but that was before my dad left us. After that we never really talked. It was too painful to look at her because I could just see in her eyes how badly she missed him. We slowly drifted apart and we haven’t really had a heart to heart in a long time.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked and right after I said this, she put the magazine down and smiled at me. This situation was getting weirder by the second.

“What? You’re mother can’t come and visit you?” Ok, something was definitely wrong.

“No, it’s fine but you see...you never have before. Why now?” Her smile faded and she patted the spot next to her on the bed. I slowly walked toward her and sat down.

“Some of your relatives have come down and I thought it would be nice if you came down and visited with them. I know they miss you.” If I thought the situation was weird before, well, it just got way weirder. My relatives never visit unless someone in the family died or someone was getting married.

“Mom, did someone die?” I asked and she just gave me a funny look like why-would-you-think-that? “Then why are our relatives visiting?” I wanted answers, no, needed them at this point. It was then that I saw a light flash from my mom’s lap. I looked down and saw a huge rock on her finger. I picked up her hand and looked at it a bit closer. “Mom...where did you get this?” I was panicking now. A ring hadn’t been on that finger in a little over a decade and now there is one. Oh no, my mom was getting married!