1. Introducing everyone.

“Oh, Nikki, I love you so much,” my boyfriend exclaimed as he sat down on his bed, beside me. I just smiled, and continued flicking through my magazine. I was lying on his bed, on my stomach, and had been lying there for about twenty minutes, waiting for him. He had said he would come up and talk to me that long ago, saying he would ‘be up in a couple of minutes’, but I didn’t say anything to him about it.

I felt him playing with my hair, and absent-mindedly lifted a hand to the back of my head to stop him. I didn’t actually mind – it was just out of habit. Jamie – my boyfriend – just took my hand in his. I put it back down on the bed, next to me, his other hand still playing with my hair, twirling it round his finger. It was an odd position for me, therefore I closed the magazine and turned over, so I was lying on my back, staring up at him.

Jamie took my other hand in his and smiled down at me. When he smiles, it’s infectious, so I soon found myself smiling back. His blonde hair flopped over his eyes and I smiled even more. My mind went over what he had said a few minutes ago. ‘Oh Nikki, I love you so much.’ He had exclaimed it sort of like something was bothering him and he was really glad to get away from it and see me. I had no idea if he meant what he had said, but I still got a funny, lovey-dovey butterfly feeling in my stomach all the same.

I forgot to introduce myself. Nicola Elliot here. I’m fifteen and in year ten at school. I have brown hair and brown eyes. My eyes aren’t hazel or anything, just plain brown. Bor-ring. That basically describes me. I don’t think I’m hideous, I just think – no, wait, I know I don’t have a great personality and I’m not the most social person in the world.

I have one sister, called Paige. She’s two years younger than me, and looks almost exactly like me. I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good thing, but gradually I’ve stopped pondering about it. Paige is really pretty, so that must mean the fact that I look like her is a good thing, right? Or is that just insulting Paige?

My boyfriend’s name is Jamie Young. He goes to my school, and has long-ish always-messy blonde hair and intriguing green eyes. I know; he’s good looking. He has an amazing personality. Oh, and by the way, he’s popular. Yeah, this is really…what’s the word? Predictable? But think what you like. He’s my boyfriend and I really like him (otherwise I wouldn’t be dating him). He’s charming and funny and smart and loads of other things that I could spend all day naming, but I won’t. That does make me sound stalker-ish but whatever.

Hey, guess what? I’m not popular. But I couldn’t care less. And obviously, neither can Jamie. He doesn’t care he’s popular. Actually, it depends what definition of popular you use. If it’s the “liked by everyone, friendly with everyone” one, then that defines Jamie, and gives an example of what I’m not. He’s well liked around the school, and he’s friendly with everyone, gets along with most people. I try to be, but often that doesn’t work out, because, as I mentioned before, I’m not the most social of people.

I can name quite a few girls at my school that Jamie could go out with, and would be ‘the perfect couple’, but I don’t let that bug me. I’m Jamie’s girlfriend (and I’m fully aware of it) and I’m really happy about that. He gets along with several other girls, but I’ve noticed he always picks me over any other girls to hang out with, if you get what I mean. Some boys hang out a lot with their girl mates a lot, but not Jamie. And for some reason, that makes me feel really warm inside.

Jamie rolled over so he was to my right. I saw he had my magazine in his hand.

“Boys, boys, celebs messing up, boys, more boys,” he muttered, flicking through the magazine, a look of disgust on his face. He looked at me and grinned his boyish grin. Jamie then tossed it over his shoulder and focused his attention on me. I glanced at where the magazine landed and made a mental note to pick it up later – hey, it cost money, you know! Jamie put his hand on my face and gently turned my head so I was facing him.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he apologized.

I smiled. “It’s OK.”

“Right. Good.”

“What happened?” I asked. “But you don’t have to tell me. If that’s being nosey,” I quickly added. I can be really nosey and annoying sometimes, and I was trying to cut down on that.

“Nikki, you’re so…” He trailed off, trying to find the right word, smiling at me. I looked away, blushing because of the way he was looking at me. He was smiling a charming smile and his eyes had a sparkle in them, and he was gazing at me…lovingly? I could hardly believe that a boy was looking at me that way, even though he was my boyfriend.

“Annoying? Nosey?” I suggested jokingly.

“No,” he said seriously. “Beautiful, maybe? Amazing?” There wasn’t a hint of humour in his voice but I felt there should have been. Those words just didn’t describe me, full stop. Before I could open my mouth to tell him he shouldn’t use those words in the same sentence as ‘Nikki Elliot’ ever, he spoke.

“Anyway,” Jamie continued. “In answer to your question, my sister happened.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“She was getting really annoyed at me…it doesn’t matter.” I took the hint and changed the subject.

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I stayed at Jamie’s house for an hour and a half longer, just talking to him. I found I could never run out of things to talk about with Jamie, whereas most of the time I would find it difficult to strike up a conversation.

When we’d finished talking, and I told him I’d better be getting back, he walked me home. My house was only about fifteen minutes away on foot, and we spent the whole time talking. At school, I’m quiet, but around Jamie I never stop talking, as I said before. Well, neither does he. It’s not all me talking, not to the point of being annoying.

We reached my front door. Jamie kissed me softly on the lips and smiled, and said goodnight. I smiled back, returning what he had just said. I was still thinking about the whole ‘I love you’ thing. Did he actually love me? Did I love him?

Love is a strong word, I know that, and I’m pretty sure Jamie does too. I was sure he meant it in a jokey way – not seriously – but still, I couldn’t help thinking about it. Well, neither would you, would you? It’s not the sort of thing you forget easily.

Jamie and me have been together since year nine. Our relationship could just be a school thing. You know, as soon as we leave school, we don’t see each other any more, and then break up. I’m not saying either of us is using the other. Like I said, neither of us knows what love is, not really. I mean, Jamie’s had a couple of girlfriends, (he still talks to them,) but they weren’t serious. Me? Boyfriends none. Jamie was even my first kiss. I’d been on a couple of dates, but they were all idiots, as most of the boys – apart from a few – are.

Maybe I should explain how we met. It was at school. Year seven, I heard his name mentioned a couple of times, I vaguely knew he was, but didn’t know him personally. In year eight, I was in a few of his classes. Year nine, I was in all of his classes. We’re on the same sort of level in subjects, so naturally we were put together, and that’s how I got to know him. This year, I’m in a few of his classes, just like in year seven, because of our different options.

I fancied him in year nine, and we were good friends. Then he asked me out on a date. I think it was bowling. Everyone thought we were a couple – just from that one date – but we laughed it off. A couple more dates, and then he kissed me and asked me out. And then it spread round our year group. I wasn’t that bothered, although I had thought I would be.

Don’t think I got amazingly popular – evil looks and ‘Aww”s were mostly what I got. Well, there were a few “you two are so cute!” and “you look great together”s. But that was about it. I heard one of his friends ask ‘Why her?’ and Jamie replied, “What are you trying to say? There’s nothing wrong with her!”

I understood some of his mates didn’t like me, but it didn’t bother me. (Most of Jamie’s mates I was friendly with, so it didn’t bother them that I was dating him.)

We don’t talk much in school. In classes we’re all focused on the work – well, this year, we are but last year we talked a lot. At lunch and break we see our friends, so we don’t get to talk much in school, although occasionally Jamie comes over to talk to me, and the rest of his mates talk to my mates (or argue with them, it depends) but like I said, that’s only occasionally.

A girl in my year group once said to me: “What’s the point of you two dating – I don’t see you talking much or anything like that in school, and you are both busy after school.” I sort of understand where she’s coming from. It doesn’t look like we’re dating – well, not at school. But we can’t see each other twenty-four-seven. We do have friends to see and social lives, plus Jamie plays for the local footie team. Although I find football extremely boring, I go along to some of his matches and watch him.

I don’t know if he likes me coming or not, so I don’t go as often now as I used to. He hasn’t said anything it, so I’m guessing he prefers to keep football and his love life separate. Which I’m fine with - although I would like it if he said something. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings or something, I don’t know.

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Thank you to my beta, xCursed.By.Thoughtx