A/N: Okay the prompt for this story was teen fiction, has to include music but the main character or supporting characters can NOT be in a band or play a musical instrument. To tell the truth I really, REALLY hate this story, so please review and tell me what I can do to improve it. Thanks!

Dear Stupid pointless notebook thing,

So Ms. Solvitz, my whacked out English teacher gave everyone in class notebooks to write in “to express our suppressed, teen angst emotions”, her words defiantly not mine, She promised us that she wouldn’t read them so we would be more honest in writing them, but we all know that she is so going to read them. But since she can’t say anything about what we write, I feel free to call her a whack job. I consider it a test to see how long she can hold out on pretending not to read them and not confronting me about the stuff I say in here. Ms. Solvitz (no surprise there that it’s Ms. and not Mrs.!) is seriously crazy though. I think she means well and actually cares which is more than I can say for most teachers. She once told me that she didn’t believe that the dinosaurs are extinct, that they have simply evolved and that we are the result of the dinosaurs evolving. Yep…she thinks that we were once dinosaurs, personally I can believe the whole ape theory a lot more than the dinosaur theory. Addison Kimberlain Adams, of course was all like “oh goody, I just love to write” when she gave us these pointless journals. These journals are about as productive a legless ballet dancer. Addison is seriously the biggest yuppie EVER! She wears sweater vest and high socks and argyle print on everything AND she ties her sweaters around her shoulders! What 17 year old girl does that??!

­---“Alright Class, rest your little hands and big souls, this is all I ask of you for today, you may pack your things and prepare yourself mentally and emotionally for your next big adventure in and outside of school.” Ms. Solvitz calls out, interrupting my tirade about Addison. I roll my eyes at my teacher’s little speech, she says something similar everyday and everyday I think she’s just a little bit closer to being put away.

I close my notebook after quickly signing my name at the bottom in almost illegible writing and walk over to the designated “thought shelf”, which is lime green with purple hearts all over it and throw my notebook with the rest of the “thought books” that the class has put away.

When I get back to my desk I quickly put my things in my huge book bag and wait for the tone to tone. Farmville Central doesn’t have a bell, it has a tone. I guess bells scare rednecks. Finally after waiting for what seems like eternity (my book bag weighs at least twenty pounds) the tone finally tones and I’m out of the class faster than a pig at a barbeque.

As I walk through the crowded noisy hallways, I keep getting pushed and shoved by the freshmen and sophomores. It is really annoying, considering that I’m a junior and that I should have at least some kind of power over the underclassmen. But no, since I weigh 90 pounds and I’m 4’11 everyone thinks they have a right to push me around like a rag doll. Being short really sucks sometimes; actually it sucks all the time.

After much kicking and biting to move people out of my way (the hallway is a battlefield and I am a warrior), I step into my next class, honors chemistry with Mr. Oleander. I used to like Chemistry, when Mr. Oleander let us pick our own groups but then one day he decides to become Mr. No talking tyrant and says he’ll pick our groups. Now I’m in a group with Addison (and you all know how I feel about her!) and Jeremiah Phelps (he’s okay, kind of strange though, he once told me that he thinks he was Marie Antoinette in a past life.).

Addison is already in class and seated at our group’s table when I come in. I walk over slowly, trying to avoid any kind of confrontation with her so early in the class period and sit down.

“Hello Charlene, did you complete the assignment last night? Or was it too difficult?” Addison says looking at me and crinkling her nose as if I’m dead baby pig brains instead of a 17 year old girl. The main thing that bothers me about Addison is that she acts like I’m an incompetent monkey who just had a massive lobotomy. When I talk to her I wish I did have a lobotomy.

“Hey Addison…and yeah I did my homework, it wasn’t that hard. Could you please not call me Charlene? No one calls me that. It’s charley.” I say, forcing myself to smile at her.

“But…Charlene is so much prettier than Charley.” She has her eyebrows raised at me already prepared for an argument.

“Well, that could be true and everything but no one calls me Charlene. Not even my old family members and you know how much they love to call people by their government names.” I try to laugh and make a joke out of it, but with the way Addison is looking at me, I feel like a complete moron.

“But Charley is a boys name. You don’t want guys to associate you with being a guy do you? How will you ever get a boyfriend if everyone thinks of you as a guy? It’s so unattractive to guys to have to call their girlfriends by a guys name and you don’t need any added help in seeming unattractive to guys”

“Thanks for the love advice Addison, but I’ll worry about that when the time comes”.

Another thing about Addison is the fact that she’s so good at backhanded comments, where she’ll say something completely bitchy but it’s hard to pinpoint what it is she said because she hides the insult so well within the comment, and if you try to say anything back you end up looking like a complete jerk. It’s best to stay silent around Addison; she’ll just use whatever you say as ammo for later.

“You’re welcome Charlene. Just remember, I’m here for you whenever you need me”. She smiles and I restrain myself from yelling that I told to freaking call me Charley, like every person in town but her does. Instead I just smile.

Ten seconds before the tone tones Jeremiah stumbles in. Jeremiah always looks like he’s stumbling, which is weird because he parents were once professional dancers. I guess gracefulness is not an inherited trait.

“What is happening my little goat heads?” Jeremiah asks, bobbing his head full of thick, curly hair up and down.

“Did you just call me your little goat head?” Addison asks, a deep frown is growing on her face and she crosses her argyle print arms.

“Um, uh duh A.K.A.! How else could I greet the best Chemistry partners on the west coast?!” Jeremiah grins ecstatically.

“Umm Jeremiah we live on the east coast” I say, putting my hand to my mouth to cover up my laughter.

“And how about just saying hello next time, Jeremiah” Addison says “and don’t call me A.K.A., it’s Addison”

Oh the hypocrisy, she can call me Charlene all she wants, even though I’ve asked her tons of times to call me Charley, but the second that someone calls her something other than what she wants all Hell breaks loose.

“But, you have such awesome initials, can I please call you A.K.A., I mean that’s hot, you’re Addison a.k.a., A.K.A. get it? Addison, also known as A.K.A.”

“Oh…I got it, I just don’t like it. So stop.”

“Yes Queen Yoda.” Jeremiah says, clasping his hands and bowing.

“If anyone is Yoda around here it’d be Charlene.” Addison says, pointing at me and laughing “Although I think Yoda is a few inches taller than her!”

“Aw, leave Charley out of it! Anyway, Charley is way cuter than Yoda, and that’s saying something since Yoda is one cute mo’ fo’.” Jeremiah winks at me after he says this, as if we’re sharing a deep personal secret.

I shoot Jeremiah a deep glare in return. I hate being called cute, puppies and kitten are cute, teenage girls are supposed to be hot. But since I look like I’m twelve everyone feels the need to treat me like I’m twelve.

“Aw, wittle charwie is mad, but don’t be mad charwie, you’re cwte” Addison says talking a baby voice and patting me on my head like I’m a dog.

Just as she says this, Mr. Oleander finally runs into class. Mr. Oleander is usually five to ten minutes late to his own classes’ everyday. Which is why most of his students don’t rush to get to class, no one is there to write them up for being tardy. Mr. Oleander’s face is bright red, and there is sweat dripping from his face and his breathing is heavy and uneven. He sounds like an elephant going into cardiac arrest.

“j-j-just gi-give m-m-m-me a mom-mom-moment, puh-puh-please.” He pants out. Mr. Oleander is kind of old and very fat and I’m starting to worry that he’s actually having a heart attack. After a few moments of silence in which the only sound in the room is Mr. Oleander’s breathing, he stands up, clears his throat and says “Now then, pass up your assigned homework.”

“Mr. Oleander, are you okay?” I ask, I can feel my forehead scrunch up like it does when I’m worried.

“Raise your hand before speaking, Charley, you know that is the most important rule in this class. Not raising your hand is a sign of disrespect to the teacher”

Hearing him say this, I know he’s fine, but I raise my hand anyway.

“Yes, Charley, do you have a question?” If you don’t raise your hand in his class, he acts like whatever you asked before you raised your hand never happened.

“Are you okay?” I ask again, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be, you silly girl!”

“Well…because umm you were just a tad bit short of breath when you entered our classroom today.” I gloss over the fact that I thought he was dying before my eyes.

“Nonsense, I’m in my prime, still a young man. I’m in the best shape of my life!”

I fight the urge to ask him if he weighed 500 pounds as a child.

Soon Mr. Oleander is passing out notes and worksheets for the day and telling us to be quiet or else we’ll just have to work alone. I find that highly unlikely because if we worked alone, we may just have to ask him questions and that could interrupt him from whatever he’s doing on the computer, and he hates being interrupted.

Addison takes charge as usual and tells us what sections we’ll each be doing. She always gives me the easiest stuff to do, because she thinks I’m a moron.

“Now remember Charlene, if you have any problems, just tell me and we’ll work through it” She says smiling at me.

“Addison…its word definitions, how can I have a problem with word definitions?!” I ask waving my hand back and forth.

“Sometimes copying stuff back and forth from a book to paper is really difficult, it’s okay. We understand.”

I decide not to say anything. I should really get a backbone. I think life would be much easier if I could just tell her to shut her mouth, or even if I could just say something bitchy back every once in a while. But no, I was cursed with shyness. I think shortness and shyness go hand in hand. All the tall people at school are really outgoing and all the short people are really shy. If anyone knew what I was thinking though, I think they’d be shocked. Everyone thinks the quiet ones are always so sweet. How wrong they are.

After about 15 minutes of doing definitions I notice something strange, Jeremiah is sitting really close to me and out of the corner of my I eye I see him sniffing my hair. I don’t think I washed my hair last night, so if probably smells pretty gross. Jeremiah doesn’t seem to mind though because he keeps on sniffing and his eyes are closed, like my hair is cocaine and he’s a coke addict, or something. After about two minutes of him sniffing I turn to him and whisper loudly “What are you doing?”

“Umm…I think you have something in your hair…want me to get it out?” He’s looking pretty guilty as he says this though so I don’t really believe him.

“You were smelling my hair!” I accuse

“Yeah.” He’s looking at his shoes as if they hold the answers to life.

“Why?” I self consciously begin to touch my hair.
“It looks like it’d smell nice.”

“Oh. Well, thanks, I guess.”

“No problem. Can I smell your hair some more?” He looks hopeful, and it’s actually kind of touching that someone wants to smell my hair that badly. Touching but still really weird.

“Um, maybe some other time, I think you should get back to work.” I don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him that I think he’s the biggest freak on earth and to leave me alone.

“Oh, yeah, work.” He nods his head and his curls shake. “I should do some, huh?”

“Yep, your work is our work” I nod too, pretending this whole conversation isn’t really awkward.

The period seems to drag by and by the time the tone tones I’m ready to run as fast as I can away from Jeremiah and his hair sniffing. I mean Jeremiah is a nice guy and everything, but what was up with the hair sniffing? Who does that?!

After second period, I have my lunch block. I walk quickly to the cafeteria, trying to avoid the underclassmen pushing me. When I get to the cafeteria, I go to my regular table, the one in the corner by the window near the drink machines and sit down. Soon after I sit down I am joined by my best friend, Noah, who sits beside me and buries his head between his arms as if going to sleep. Then Kaylin and her boyfriend of the week, Josh or John or Jim sits down, and our table is complete.

“So anything interesting happen today?” Noah asks me, finally sitting up. What he really means is ‘did Addison do anything interesting today’. Noah has a huge crush on Addison, and it annoys me to no end.

“What do you see in her?! She wears argyle! ARGYLE!”

“The argyle is sexy” Noah says sticking his chin out as I start laughing.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course! But it’s only sexy on her; anyone else it would look stuck up”

“Oh it looks stuck up on her too; you’re just blinded by your male lust”

“My male lust? Speaking of male lust, someone has a little male lust for you.” Noah flashes me a wicked grin.

“Yeah right.” I say rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, I am right, he told me himself.”

“He must be talking about someone else” I say not really interested in what Noah has to say anymore.

“What other girl is called Charley around here?” Noah asks pointing out.

“Umm, he could be gay”

“Doubtful, he said your best friend Charley, and I have no guy friends with the name Charley. So it’s obviously you.”

“Guys don’t like me.” I say starting to eat the chocolate pudding my mom packed for me this morning.

“Says who?” Noah asks grabbing one of my cookies and eating it. I roll my eyes and say “Says me, who would want to date someone who needs a step stool to even talk to them.”

“You aren’t that short. And guys think it’s cute, I mean sexy” Noah says, trying to save himself from the fact that he just said cute in my presence. He knows I hate the word cute.

“Uh huh, whatever, I bet it’s some gross looking guy with acne, who’ll date anyone.” I bite into my peanut butter sandwich.

“Not at all, I know a lot of girls who think he’s a hottie.” Noah says nodding his head.

I take another bite of my sandwich and give the rest to Noah, he eats half of what I take to school everyday and say “Noah, that is highly doubtful. Please never speak of this secret crush to me again”

“You’re no fun! Don’t you wanna know who it is?!”

“Nope, it’ll only cause this poor sap to be hurt and me embarrassment. So I’d rather not know anything.”

“You’re a stick in the mud.” Noah says beginning to pout.

“Yep. Want the rest of my chips?” I ask already handing him the bag.

“Don’t bother trying to win me back with these stupid chips.” Noah says already eating them and grinning, his mood much happier.

“Whatever, chipwhore.” I smile at him and wink.

Too soon, lunch has ended and I’m on my way to my third period class, Art II. I didn’t even like Art I last year, so I have no idea why I decided to be an idiot and take Art II. Luckily, Noah is an idiot too and he’s in the class with me. Jeremiah’s in this class too, I really hope he doesn’t try to smell my hair again, although I doubt he’ll even get the chance too since me and Noah sit on the opposite side of the class as him. As soon as I sit down though, Noah decides to be Mr. Friendly today and calls Jeremiah over

“Yeah man?” Jeremiah asks not even looking at me. I’m almost offended.

“You wanna sit with us, dude? We’re like the only juniors in here.” Noah asks motioning him to sit down.

“Yeah, sure, thanks man.” Jeremiah grins at him and takes a seat.

“Excuse, us, Jeremiah; Me and Noah have to have a best friend meeting by the art supplies.” I say, smiling a big forced smile and pulling Noah backwards to the art supplies.

“What is it now?” Noah asks looking annoyed.

“When did you decide to be all nice and ask someone to sit with us, this was not discussed?! I flail my arms about.

“I didn’t know I had to ask permission to ask a friend to sit with us.”

“Well, now you do, so go fix it!” I motion for him to walk over to our desks.

“No, you fix it; you’re the one with the problem.” Noah’s arms are crossed and I know I have no chance at trying to convince him otherwise.

“Fine, he can stay, but if he’s start smelling my hair, I’m going to punch him!” Noah gives me a questioning look but I simply glare at him.

Jeremiah pretty much ignores me throughout the period except for the last 15 minutes.

“So, what’s your favorite love song of all time?” Jeremiah asks me I give him a look that clearly says ‘what the hell?’ but answer him anyway

“I like Aerosmith’s ‘don’t want to miss a thing’.” I say. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

The rest of the day passes by pretty slowly, except for the fact that someone caught the computer lab on fire by playing with a broken lighter and everyone had to spend most of fourth period outside in the freezing cold rain, but other than that nothing too exciting happens. I feel pretty bad for the kid who caught the lab on fire, he was a senior and he was expelled for the year. I would hate to be that close to graduating and then do something completely moronic to screw it up. Too bad the school didn’t completely burn down; I heard the computer lab was even okay.

When I get home, I’m greeted by my mother who rushes up to be and grabs me in a death grip hug.

“Oh Honey, are you alright? I saw the fire on the news, Where are you burned?! Don’t worry baby, we’ll get you the best plastic surgery available.” My mom has the tendency to overreact.

“I’m fine mom, everyone’s fine. Don’t you think if I had been hurt, I would be in the hospital?”

“Oh, I have no idea what those quacks would do if someone gets hurt at that school. I know what I’d do if you or your sister got hurt, I’d sue, sue, sue!” She shakes her finger at me, like I’m the school or something.

“I know mom, you say that all the time.” My dad’s a lawyer and my mom always uses that as an excuse to say she’s going to sue someone.

“I know, I want everyone to know that you are to be cared for like you’re glass and if they break that class, they’ll lose their shirts in lawsuits.” My mom’s starting to pick at my clothes and hair as if I’m a doll and not her child. She does that a lot.

“Who is ‘they’ anyway?”

“Don’t ask questions, it makes you look ignorant” My mother says walking out of the room.

I decide not to follow her and incite an argument and instead decide to go to my room. My little sister wearing my clothes and using my makeup greets me when I open my door.

“Becky, could you please not go into my room when I’m not home?” I ask calmly, knowing that if I blow up, I’ll only make thing worse.

“This isn’t your room, mommy and daddy pay for the house, so it’s their room so I can go in whenever I want!” Becky never responds well to rationality.

“Fine then, how about I go to your room and take your toys away. You didn’t pay for them, mom and dad did, so I can take them whenever I want” I hope my tactic at giving my little sister her own treatment works.

“MOMMY! CHARLEY IS BEING MEEEEEAAAAAN!” Becky cries, running from my room to my mom in the kitchen downstairs.

“Charley come here!” I roll my eyes, already imagining what my little sister is telling my mom.

When I get to the kitchen, I see Becky pretending to cry in my mom’s arms and my mom is glaring at me.

“Did you hit her?” My mom demands

“No!”

“Well, she said you hit her and pulled her hair and you threatened to take her toys”

“Well, I threatened to take her toys but-“

“-Why do you want her toys you’re 17 years old, start acting your age for once. Stop being so mean to your poor sister, she looks up to you like you’re her hero, and all you can do is torment her!”

Becky looks over at me and shoots me a triumphant look.

“You know what your problem is? You’re so negative, all you want to do is give people pain, you should start giving happiness. That’s why no boys ever like you; no one wants a sour apple.”

“Sorry Becky” I say and walk out of the room, ignoring my mother’s yells to come back and apologize with meaning.

I stay in my room the rest of the night and ignore my father’s knocks to come in. He just wants to yell at me more and tell me what’s wrong with me and why I’ll probably die alone, if I wanted that kind of treatment I would just ask Addison.

For the rest of the week, I try to ignore Jeremiah at school, and at home I try to stay out of my mom and dad’s way as much as possible. But on Thursday, Addison decides to tarnish her perfect attendance record and stays home, meaning I now have to deal with Jeremiah alone.

“How come you don’t talk to me anymore?” Jeremiah asks as Mr. Oleander passes out our assignment for the day.

“What do you mean?” I try to play innocent but it’s pretty obvious that I’ve been ignoring him.

“I mean, you used to be all cool and talk to me, but now you like ignore me and stuff. What’s up with that?”

“I have not ignored you, at least not on purpose!”

“You’re a crappy liar, Charley. And I saw you lunge into the bathroom when you saw me walk towards you.” He gives me a pointed look.

“Oh, you saw that huh?” I ask. I feel really stupid now.

“Um yeah…kind of hard to miss.”

“I’m a jerk.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay, you’re usually a nice jerk.”

“That made no sense.” I smile at him.

“Everyone says that to me. But you know, you say it a lot less than most people.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you get me, most of the time, and that’s why I like you.”

“Thanks…”

I get the feeling Jeremiah isn’t talking about our friendship, and that he’s confessing something to me. I try to ignore that feeling as much as possible. Jeremiah is my friend and I don’t want to screw that up because of something as dumb as me stupidly believing he has a crush on me. I’m not that vain to believe that someone may actually like me.

Jeremiah and me talk for the rest of the period, which for the first time in about six weeks, seems to go by at an almost lightening speed.

The rest of the day passes by pretty slowly and nothing worth mentioning happens, not even a stupid little fire!

When I get home my mom is cooking a huge dinner and the table is set. This means one thing: My grandparents are coming for dinner.

“What are you wearing? Go put on a dress or something, I can’t have you going around looking like a hobo!” My mom shrieks

“Sorry?” I say feeling confused. My mom gave me everything I’m wearing as a Christmas present a month ago.

“Oh my gosh, is the house clean?! Does everything look clean? More importantly, does everything smell clean?”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t stand there looking retarded, go help your sister get ready!” My mom yells frantically. I don’t know why she gets so bent out of shape every time her parents come and visit. Oh wait. She could be just like them when it comes to parenting. I know I’m gonna freak out when she comes to visit when I get older. In fact I’ll refuse to let them know where I live so they can’t visit. I smile knowing I have the prefect plan figured out. I decide to just go to my room and take a nap until my grandparents get here.

About two hours after I fall asleep I hear the doorbell ring, so I walk downstairs to see my two grandparents. I can see a lot of my mother in my grandmother. They both dye their hair platinum blonde and wear lipstick that is too dark for them. My grandfather always looks tired and angry, so I guess I take after him.

“Abby, what are you feeding your children? Poor Charley looks like a holocaust victim!” My grandmother says, looking me up and down.

“Ida, what are you talking about? Charley, you look beautiful, don’t listen to that crazy old bag” My grandfather says, hugging me and glaring at my grandmother.

“Sure, sure always attack me. I raised your children, I cooked you meals every night for 50 years, I married you when no one else would have you and this is the thanks I get?!” My grandmother begins waving her arms around.

“The nanny raised our children, and poorly, Abby looks like a whore! And those meals were cooked by the maid and I could and can still get every woman in town”

“Why don’t we all sit down and have dinner? I made your favorites dad” My mom says trying to divert attention away from the argument.

“You cook? I told you not to marry this schumuck! I told you, you’d be unhappy, and you are, aren’t you?” My grandmother says following my grandmother into the kitchen.

Dinner was filled with awkward silences and insults towards everyone in the family, even Becky! I wonder if people even love each other after the first two or three years of marriage and if after that they just stay together out of habit. Looking at my grandparents on the surface I’d totally say habit and not love is what keeps them together. But then after dinner, my grandfather started coughing and my grandmother put her hand over his and said “Ernest, I think we should go to bed now, you need your rest for the morning drive”

“Fine, fine, treat me like a child, woman.” He said this almost affectionately.

“Goodnight family, we love you all, but we’re leaving most of our property to our son who lives in Denver, he’s a doctor.” My grandmother waved to us.

“They’re crazy!” Becky says, taking a cookie out of the jar.

“Yeah…but they really love each other” I say, everyone in my family turned to look at me like I was crazy.

“How do you figure that?” My dad asks, amused

“Well…even with all the fighting you could just tell they love each other.”

I get up to go to my room, but my dad catches me before I can escape

“You know we love you too, right?”

“Of course.” Then I run to my room to do homework and get on the computer for a while. At around ten, I get ready to go to bed. But as I’m brushing my teeth, I keep hearing Aerosmith’s ‘don’t want to miss a thing’. At first I think it’s in my head, but the sound keeps getting louder and louder, until I realize it’s coming from my lawn. I run to my window and Jeremiah is standing outside with a huge stereo on his shoulders and a draped across his chest that says ‘this is for Charley’.

“Oh My God Charley, who is that strange boy?” My mother asks me, coming up from behind me.

“His name’s Jeremiah. I think he has a crush on me.”

“You think?! Honey I don’t even know him and I already know he has a crush on you! Who does he think he is John Cusack? This isn’t some 80’s teen movie.”

“I think it’s sweet.” I say

“Of course you do, it’s dedicated to you.” My mom says smiling at me “Are you going to go out with him now?”

“No, I don’t like him like that.” I say shaking my head.

“Honey you have to go out with him, you’re obligated”

Suddenly my dad comes outside with a baseball bat and Jeremiah drops his stereo on the ground and it smashes to pieces. As he runs down the block, my dad yells at him to stay away from me.

“Now you have to go out with him, he broke his stereo.” My mom says, walking away.

I try to go to sleep but I keep thinking about what I’ll say to Jeremiah the next day in school. He did just almost serenade me outside my window, the least I could do is go out with him. But I don’t like him, and he deserves someone who actually likes him. After about three hours of tossing and turning I somehow go to sleep.

The next day at school everyone keeps asking me if it’s true that Jeremiah rigged up a stereo to play my favorite love song. When I say yes, most of the girls giggle and the guys roll the eyes and groan, knowing that they’ll have to somehow top Jeremiah’s stunt. When the tone tones for first period I go to the “Thought Shelf” and begin writing in my “Thought Journal”.

Dear Stupid Journal thing

I personally think Jeremiah is a psycho. A romantic psycho who I don’t want to hurt. Too bad I can’t make myself like him. Too bad he can’t like someone like Addison, who I heard is really jealous of me. I can’t even be happy that Addison is jealous because I know I’m going to end up hurting Jeremiah today. He’s been nothing but sweet to me and I should take what I can get since I’m so short and most guys don’t like me, but I want to hold out for someone that I really like. Someone that I get butterflies over every time I see them. I don’t have that with Jeremiah. All I feel is nausea because I know I’m going to have to see him sometime and I know he’ll hate me forever after I tell him that I’m just not interested. I don’t even deserve Jeremiah. I deserve a pimply loser who has bad B.O. And everyone at school will hate me because I ended up breaking his heart, even after he became Steve Tyler with a stereo and ended up breaking his stereo after my dad chased him down the block. I am a jerk, and not even a nice one.

Charley