PLEASE READ: a/n:

Hey guys. :) this is my first post ever. i'm not really the type that's confident about her work. i've been debating whether to put some story up or not. and it's now or never, right? so yeah, for some reason, i chose this story to post first.

disclaimer: they say great minds think alike. so whatever you read here that seems to sound like your work or a scene that's also in your story or if the whole thing is actually your story, too, then i'm really sorry. i had no intention of copying your work. i try my best to think up things that seem original, but we can never avoid other things that are just similar by coincidence, right? maybe you should let me read yours. i'll respect it. :)

don't be too harsh please. comments and reviews are always welcome.

THANK YOU! :)

Anyway, this is just a little fluff for you guys. enjoy it. please. x))

NAIVETY AND PESSIMISM JUST DON'T MIX

We all have dreams of getting our prince charming one day at the right time. We wish that he'll come, sweep us into his arms and give us that true love's kiss and the vow to be with us forever. I should know—I dreamt of that ever since I was a little girl. But as I turned 9, I stopped believing in it like how a 5 year old learns that Santa isn't real. I started to have doubts. I didn't think true love was real. It was sad for a 9 year old to think that at such a young age. I mean, I still had a long way to go and learn about love. But the truth is, I never knew what love was. I thought about it a lot, but I never knew what it was.

They sat me down on the living room couch.

Mom spoke first. "Emma, honey, we want you to know that this is not your fault at all."

I started to wonder what it was about. And then I saw my mother's eyes water as she spoke.

Dad went next. "Things change, sweetie." That phrase was enough to send my imagination through space.

That's when they dropped the bomb. "Mommy and daddy will be separating." They said at the same time.

I didn't understand at the time. "Why?" I asked.

"People fall in love and they fall out of it, too." Dad said.

"And we don't love each other anymore." Mom continued. I think she saw my eyes widen in shock because then she added, "I mean, not in the way we used to. We think we're better off friends like how you are with your friends." she said.

"Why?" I asked again.

They didn't answer that question. They never did. Instead mom said, "Daddy will be leaving in a week."

And that was it. Everything was broken. My family, especially. And I thought that everything was okay. I never guessed that anything like this would happen. My parents barely fought. But I guess they just didn't do that in front of me. And then, the one thing that I believed in ever since I learned kids didn't come from storks and that Santa wasn't true at all and that the tooth fairy would never come even if I placed all of my teeth under my pillow—true love—I was convinced it didn't exist. It couldn't. It couldn't exist because people fall out of love.

There was a tiny spark of hope in the following months after my parents separated. It was the start of the new school year and I was in Ms. Timber's class. She was nice and everyone loved her company. She also loved our company.

One time, she asked a random question about our zodiac signs.

"Who here are Scorpios?" she asked.

I looked around but no one raised their hand. I was a Scorpio and so I raised my hand. It was kind of funny that I was the only Scorpio in class. But I was proud of it.

"Emma and Scott only?" Ms. Timbers asked. Surprised, I turned my head to the back. I didn't notice that this new kid, Scott Carmichael was holding his hand up, too. He saw me look at him and he gave me a smile. I smiled back at him.

And there it was.

The tiny spark of hope.

Of the possibility that it might exist. True love, that is.

All because we had the same zodiac sign.

Recess came and I ran to the playground with everyone else. The girls played tag with the boys. I wanted to join them so I asked if I could.

"But you'll be IT since you have the most cooties." Marky, this fat boy I used to be scared of (who usually made fun of me and pulled on my pigtails) decided.

All the girls laughed at me and started teasing. The boys ran away from me, screaming that I had cooties.

"I do not!" I screamed at them. But no matter how I told them I didn't have the most cooties in our class, they ran away from me and the game switched from tag to run-away-from-the-cootie-monster.

I decided to sit out and I cried in the corner. I didn't know why I just bothered to even play with them. It wasn't a very nice experience for a 9 year old. Then, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around to see who it was.

"Hello." He said.

It was this new boy in my class with scruffy jeans and sneakers and a blue cap worn back,

"Hi." I replied quietly. I turned my back on him. I didn't want him to see my crying.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know." I said.

"I saw what those kids did to you." He said.

"Maybe you should run away like everyone else is doing." I sniffed, wiping my tears away.

"But you said you don't have cooties."

"Because I don't."

"So you don't." he shrugged.

"But they're still running away. They don't believe me." the tears fell faster again.

"So what?" he said. "I believe you."

I looked up at him and he seemed like he meant it.

"C'mon. Let's play our own game." He suggested. I nodded and followed where he was going. We played on the swings until the bell rang. And I enjoyed it a lot. I didn't care what others thought of me anymore. Like he said: 'So what?'

"I'm Scott, by the way." he said as he entered the classroom once again.

"I'm Emma." I replied giving him my biggest of smiles.

Scott and I became the best of friends through middle school, junior high and high school. I had lots of other friends—even Marky became my friend (we decided to let the past live in the past. Besides, he claimed that he was too immature to know what he was doing. I forgave him. I wasn't one to hold grudges) but Scott was the closest to me. We did anything and everything together. From playing transformers to playing soccer; from riding our bikes down the hill to doing our homework; from picking out our own cars when we finally got our licenses to watching the movies we liked together. Anything. We did anything together. Even getting booster shots!

I remember the time when both of us were going through puberty and his voice was cracking and I sometimes thought that it was a girl talking on the other line of the phone. I, on the other hand, had nonstop zits growing on my forehead. It was disgusting. But that's just one of the best memories he and I will always have.

He was there for me when this guy I really liked (and Scott disliked), Alex, stood me up on a date he asked me to. I cried the whole night; and instead of giving me repeated lectures and 'I told you so's, Scott stayed silent and gave me tissues and water when I needed them and even some hugs and pats on the back.

I was there when his father, Mr. Carmichael, was in the hospital, recovering from a car accident. Not many believed he would make it with all those broken bones. And with everyone's under-estimation, Scott was left devastated. But I was there to help him and I told him not to give up and that his father would make it. Fortunately, Mr. Carmichael did make it and whenever I see him, I always think he's a walking miracle.

During big exams, Scott and I arrange this study session with only the two of us helping each other and working our butts off for the test. We're like total opposites since I'm not good in math and he is; I hate biology, but he aces it; I'm into literature and he's into history—it was real fun helping each other out.

Was.

So how are Scott and I doing?

Well, we barely speak to each other anymore.

"Emma?" Scott called, uncertainty in his voice.

"Scott! You came!" I ran over to him, shoving past the kids who were partying just to give him a hug. I was surprised to see him. He had told me earlier that day that he could not make it to this party my boyfriend, Jared, and I set up. (Well, except, he didn't know me and Jared were already together since it was sort of still a new development.)

"Yeah, I promised I would, right?" he grinned.

"That's why I love yah!" I teased him. He looked satisfied with himself. But I noticed that he was trying very hard to smile. Being friends with him for so long, it was easy for me to read his face—when he was keeping something from me or if he was simply lying flat out.

"Well, this is a really cool party you threw, eh? Must've taken a lot of work." He quickly said. I bet he noticed I was scrutinizing him.

"Thanks, but it wasn't all me. I had more help from the people from the team." I winked. "C'mon, let's have some fun." I grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor. I started dancing and encouraged him to dance with me. I didn't want him to worry about anything yet. I wanted to do that after the party. But it was really difficult because he was all stiff and it seemed like I was already forcing him to dance.

"Scott, what's wrong?" I asked him, getting a little annoyed. It wasn't a good time for him to be all low.

He shook his head, refusing to tell me.

"Scott, please." I urged. "What's the problem?"

He looked down, now refusing to look at me.

"Scott, don't do this."

"Emma," he paused. I was sure he was sorting out the things to say. I waited for a minute but my patience was already running low.

"Are you serious?" he asked, looking incredulous. I got confused. I felt like I missed something.

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"Have you seen what you're wearing before you left the house?"

I was taken aback when he said this. I looked down at my clothes. Yes, for that night, I changed the way I usually dressed, but that was since I wanted to look nice for Jared's party. I wanted to impress him. Besides, it had only been 3 days before that he and I decided to be together. Yes, it was far from the typical plain graphic tee with jeans and high tops I wore almost every single day. I was wearing a mini skirt with ballet flats and a red tank top that, you could say, was real low. I placed some make-up on for the sake of the occasion. I didn't think there was something wrong with it.

"I dress myself, Scott. That's not your job." I said through gritted teeth. My fists subconsciously tightened. How could he say that?!

"What are you trying to pull, huh?" he asked. "This isn't you at all."

"You're not my father." I growled.

"Then do you want me to call your real father and tell him about how his daughter's turning into some skank?"

"You're being an asshole." I interjected.

"If that's the way you dress yourself now just 'cause you're with Jared, then I'd have to be telling you to cover up some more." he replied.

My mouth flew open. "You know about me and Jared?!"

"Emma, we play in the same team." He rolled his eyes. "Obviously, I'd know by now."

I felt dumb at that moment.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him." He said. "But I guess you've been going out in secret, huh?"

"You also told me to stay away from all the other guys I dated, starting with Alex" I muttered.

"Because I knew what would happen in the end." He said.

"Or because you just hate the people I decide go out with." I retorted. "What are you now, some psychic?"

"Seriously, Em, are you blind?" his voice was rising. "Or did you forget what resulted of you and Alex? He stood you up! Treated you like crap! That goes for all the other guys you gave chances to!"

I breathed in slowly, trying to stay calm.

"Jared is just like everyone else, Em, believe me. I know him!"

"Oh yeah?" I arched up a brow. "Tell me something I don't know."

"He doesn't love you. He'll only be with you for one thing and I think you know very well what that is."

I felt the blood on my cheeks. I was fuming! Scott has never insulted me and made me so angry that way ever!

"Shut up, Scott." I snapped. "Why can't you ever be happy for me, huh? Why do you always tell me I'm wrong? For once, I just want you to be happy for me!" my voice was starting to crack.

"Emma, you can't be too naïve. The truth is that those guys don't want anything more but to—" I shook my head. I didn't let him finish. If I did, I was afraid I would start crying because it would hurt.

"Oh, first you're telling me what I should be wearing and now you're telling me who I should go out with?" I felt my throat restrict. It got harder to talk without my voice cracking.

He sighed really loud, sounding really tired. "It's because Emma, you can't go on life thinking its one big fairytale because it's not and honestly, someone has to blow that shit wide open for you to see."

That was it. That was last draw. He couldn't talk to me like that. If he only tore my chest and ripped out my heart, threw it to the floor and kicked it across the room, it wouldn't have hurt as much as what he had said to me.

"That's enough, Scott." I couldn't hold them any longer. Without me knowing, I was already wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.

"You don't have to change for him, Emma. He's not the right one for you."

"I said that's enough!" Without thinking twice, I flung my hand at Scott's left cheek.

I swear, the whole party seemed to slow down at that second. The music died down for a bit and the people started to stare. Jared saw me and started walking toward us. Scott was quiet, his hand, traveling to his cheek, slowly rubbing it. His expression changed to a face I had never seen before. It was a face of stone, with no emotion at all.

By that time, it had just occurred to me that I had slapped my best friend, Scott Carmichael. Hard. On the face.

"What's going on?" Jared asked once he approached us. "Everything alright?"

I didn't say a thing. It was already hard looking like I wasn't crying when I really was. At the same time, inside, I was pleading Scott not to through a fist at Jared and start this whole fight. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.

"Hey, let's go someplace else." Jared suggested, holding my hand. I sighed with relief knowing there wouldn't be a whole scene after all.

"Okay." I answered quietly as I nodded. Jared placed his hand on the small of my back and stirred me around to leave.

Still angry at Scott, I turned to him. "I don't ever want to talk to you again. And don't bother talking to me either."

It's sad how the people you know suddenly become the people you knew. And when you walk right past them at the halls, it would be like you were never a part of their life.

Looking back, I have realized that the only reason why Scott and I stopped talking is because of me. The only person I blame is myself because it really is my entire fault. I lost a perfectly great friendship for what?

For nothing.

Just absolutely nothing.

Jared and I, of course, did not make it long. In 3 months, we were over. It just didn't work out and I didn't like how I felt around him. I felt like I always had to impress him and when you continue and keep on doing that, there comes a time when you just get tired and ask yourself 'for what reason am I doing this?'.

On the other hand, Jared felt like I wasn't so into the relationship, like I wasn't there when he and I were together. He always said I was in another world. But come to think of it, most of the time, I always wondered how Scott was doing—if he wanted to talk to me the same way I wanted to, but was just holding back because I told him to. I wondered if we could ever be friends again. It had been so long since we last talked. And honestly, I missed having him around.

So again, maybe I am partly to blame for my break-up with Jared. To my relief, he didn't hurt me in any way. He didn't even try anything, if you catch my drift. For that, I was thankful to Jared. And for the first time, Scott was wrong.

Now, I'm sitting at my backyard, alone, literally in tears. I placed the flowers down before the tombstone. He was the only one that made me happy with the kisses he'd give me. We practically grew up together. He was really special; he was my very first best friend. And now he's gone. Yeah, call me a sissy. I couldn't help it, though. It really does hurt when someone you care for dies. It feels like a part of you dies with them.

I just sat there in silence when I heard the doorbell ring.

"Someone's here for you, Em." Mom called from inside the house.

I slowly got up to my full height, quickly wiped my tears with the back of my hand and headed for the door.

I almost forgot to breathe at the sight of that certain 'someone' grinning while standing at my front porch.

"Scott?" I whispered, unsure of why he was here. At the same time, though, I was happy—no, ecstatic, even—to see him there. It had been a long time since.

"I heard there was a death in the family." He smiled, holding out some flowers.

"Yeah." I nodded, looking down, fidgeting with my fingers. It never was too easy to pick back up where we left off. "Uh, you—uh, wanna come in?"

"Sure."

I led him to the back where the tomb laid. Scott placed the flowers he brought next to mine.

"Thank for coming, Scott. You have no idea how much this means to me." I told him. And I meant it. Only Scott had the sense to come. I know Jared and all the other boys I dated thought it was just nothing and wasn't worth their time.

"No problem." He shrugged. "Besides, I was sure you'd be completely devastated."

"Well, aren't you?" I asked. He meant a lot to Scott, too. He was the same best friend to Scott as he was to me.

"Of course I am. But I knew you'd need a hug."

I swear my heart skipped a beat when Scott said that. I hugged him immediately and the tears began to fall again. But they weren't tears for weeping. For the first time in a long time, I was so sure I happy.

"I'm really, really, really sorry about what happened." I sniffed. "I missed you so much."

Scott hugged me close, toying with my hair. He whispered, "You have no idea, Em."

We hugged each other for a few more seconds until I decided to let go.

Scott looked at the tombstone and read out loud, "Here lies Spud, beloved pug, best friend, and pet of Emma Sterling."

"Miss you already, big boy." I said, as if I was really talking to Spud. "Those wet licks and muddy paws, too."

"You took really good care of him, Em." Scott said. "I mean, for a dog to live for so long, its quite impressive."

"I'm gonna get a turtle next." I told him. "That way he'd be the one to cry at my funeral."

"That's a great idea." Scott chuckled. Then he laced his fingers through mine, pulling me back inside. "Let's get one right now."

At that moment, I learned what love really was.

Love isn't just simply believing in love. Love isn't just about finding your prince charming who would sweep us into his arms and give us that true love's kiss and the vow to be with us forever and having your happily ever after. Love isn't just some cliché movie where the hero and the heroine predictably end up together. Love isn't like believing in Santa or the tooth fairy. Love isn't as paper thin and easy to see. It's not so easy to come around to, either. Love isn't as simple as just dating guys from your high school and finding out if they're the right one for you. Love isn't trusting those boys to the extent that you choose to neglect the truth. Love isn't changing the way you dress just to impress some boy. Love certainly isn't slapping your very best friend for taking the liberty of telling you the truth and then telling him to not ever speak to him again. And love isn't always one big fairytale. And you might not see it through naivety or pessimism.

Love is getting butterflies in your stomach when you learn someone has the same zodiac sign as you do. Love is choosing to stay and being friends with the girl rumored to have the most cooties. Love may sometimes come in the form of truth. Love may also be getting mad at your best friend for the things she's doing wrong. Your best friend may be insulted, but you do it anyway since you know its what's right for her. Love is looking out for your best friend. Love is listening to what your best friend tells you even though you know it's the last thing you'd ever want to do. Love is thinking about him and staying up at night, wondering if he's okay even though you've had a massive fight. Love is showing up at the funeral of your best friend's dog when no one else thought of doing so. Love is admitting you were wrong and saying sorry. Love is giving hugs—the right hugs that can make a person who's just lost a dear pet smile. And love is knowing that the other is eternally irreplaceable.

You might not know it's there when it really is. But when you do, you'll find that its purely awesome. :)

a/n: okay, that's about it, guys. i hope you enjoyed it. lemme know what you think ayt? its really important to me. :D i'll probably post other stories. i got one lined-up already. :)

again, thanks for spending your time reading this. :) i love you already. :D