"Wow. Linda, you got boobs over the summer."

First day back at school and they are the first words I get to hear. What has the world come to?

"Liam." I let out a sigh. "Go suck a dick."

He sulks. "Aw, come on Linda, don't be like that. I was giving you a compliment."

An ugly voice speaks from behind me. I recognise it as the voice that belongs to a very ugly blonde headed boy named Bradley. Just my luck.

"Liam giving Linda a compliment?" He lets out a loud surprised gasp. "I don't believe it!"

Idiot. He walks by me and leans his arm on his best mates shoulder, looking at me for the first time.

His mouth drops in what looks like shock.

"Holy cow! Linda baby, you got boobs!"

Not bothering to reply, I walk away with my middle finger in the air directed at the tossers themselves.

Turning the corner, I feel my excitement rising as I ready myself to unite with my bestie for life.

There she is, standing over at our bench just like she promised. Unable to contain myself, I scream her name.


She turns her head; she sees me; she smiles; she screams my name back at me.


Then we run towards each other, our arms wide. It's a habit of ours, just like how we tend to do the dramatic. This comes under both those headings.

We catch each other around the waist, earning us a few shouts of, "Take your clothes off!" from the guys.

I love the guys at our school. Aren't they just the sweetest?

Jemma raises her head so that her mouth is level with my ear.

"I missed you so much. I still don't understand why you had to go Europe with your parents all summer."

Guilt starts to creep onto me. "I missed you too Jemma." I tighten our already tight extra-long hug. "But my folks wouldn't take no for an answer. Don't worry. I was bored crazy without you."

"Good. I would hate it if you let me suffer by myself."

With that, we pull apart. I examine her, I'm sure she does the same to me.

She dyed her hair a golden brown colour, only the slightest bit different from the last time I saw her. I'm about to comment on it when a gasp from her gets my attention.

"What's wrong?"

She ignores me and starts a screech speech instead. Isn't that a cool phrase? Screech speech…

"Oh my God!"

"Jemma!" I start my own screech speech. "Tell me why you're screech speech-ing right now!"

She looks up at my face, surprise filling her eyes.

"You got boobs!" She points right at the objects in question.

"What is this?" I demand. "All three people I've talked to today have commented on my apparent rise in bra size."

She gives me her best fake sorry look. Then she seems to remember something.

"Wait, what two other people?"

I scoff. "Liam and Bradley."

She gives me her best sincere sorry look.

"They're both too sleazy for words though, it's expected of them to say such things. I'm sure no one else will notice."

"You did!"

"Lindy, it's my job as your bestie for life to notice these things. So unless you have some other secret bestie for life that you've replaced me with, who I'll have to kill mind you, no one else will notice. Trust me."

I trust her. I nod to show I trust her. How could I not trust her? As my bestie for life I have to trust her. As her bestie for life she has to trust me to trust her. I would trust her to save my life. I would trust her until death. I will trust her beyond death.

Bottom line, I trust her.

"Linda, Jemma!"

Synchronized, we whip our heads up in search of the caller who called our names. (Funny that: callers call people, dancers dance, watchers watch, skippers skip, chefs cook… okay maybe not the last one so much.)

Jared's big head comes into view. Unlike the rest of the guys at our school, Jarred is sometimes decent. Only sometimes.

"Linda, Jemma. What is it I hear about you two having lesbian sex in public? And why haven't I been invited?"

Jemma actually bothers to reply. "Jared, we we're having our catch up hug. You may not remember, but Linda was in Europe all summer."

"Right, whoops. Sorry Linda, but I didn't forget it, I was simply in the moment of you guys having lesbian sex, can you honestly blame me?"

"Yes, yes I can."

"Well, where's my 'catch up hug'?"


We go together like peaches and cream, like milk and Oreos, like fruit salad and ice cream, like pepper and mint (that's pepper-mint, obviously!).

During this peaches and cream moment, Jarred does in fact try to feel me up. It is supposed to be lesbian sex to him after all, even though he's a guy. I pull apart quicker then usual for that very reason. Jared may be decent sometimes, but he is still a horny male.

Jared doesn't look to fond of my actions, though then his face lightens up.

"Linda! You got boobies!"

I start mumbling to myself. "You're kidding me! I should keep count. So far, four people in less then ten minutes."

Then I face Linda. When she notices the accusation in my eyes she looks guilty.

"Jemma, what were you saying before about trusting you?"

More guilt.

"Ah, that I would buy you a big peppermint ice-cream later?"

How could I not forgive her when that's on the line? "Deal."

Dear Boob-wanters,

You may think you want to get big boobs overnight, but trust me, you really don't.

All my love, Boob-getter-er.

I hadn't even made it through first period and my day was already labelled 'Most Weird'. Oh, and 'Most Repetitive'.

Oh my way to my locker earlier, five more people mentioned my boobs. FIVE. Out of the six people I talked to. The other one was only because I was shouting at some dickhead who wouldn't move out of way. The worst part was that he wouldn't move out of my way because he was staring at my boobs, but he technically didn't mention them so it counts as negative in that equation.

My already low respect for high school students had decreased more than double within the last hour. Seems to me that no one uses eye contact when they say hello anymore. Maybe it's just me who does it. The last of my kind. Standing all alone. I'll become extinct before the days out judging by how often I think about hacking my boobs off with a chainsaw just so people stop with the comments.

Okay, honestly, I guess yes, it is good to know that I am no longer the flat chested pancake I once was, like a month ago, less. But for everyone, and I mean everyone, to point out my personal body parts, it gets fucking annoying!

Wait, can you have personal-less body parts?

Never mind.

Even a teacher pointed out my... extreme growth. Only good thing about that was that it was a woman, otherwise I think I would be forced to sue. Not to mention dropping out of school would be a must, my respect would be in the negative numbers.

Thinking about it, if any of the female teachers were lesbian it would definitely be Ms Jay. Single at the age of, what would it be now, one hundred and sixty four?

She does always seem to favour the females in class too. I have the proof in front of me right at this moment for example.

Tony, Harry, Mitchell, and that guy with the dreadlocks all have had their hand up for at least five minutes. Julia Frolic, a total bitch by the way, put her hand up about five seconds ago, any guesses who Ms Jay chooses to go to next?

Yes, it was Julia. Two points for you.

Mitchell is about to punch a wall, or Ms Jay herself, I can tell. Being the kind person I am, and bored, I decide to help him out.

Aren't I such a nice little cookie? Ignoring the fact that I am really extremely bored.

"Um, excuse me Ms Jay, I don't quite understand something. Can you please help me?"

"Oh yes, right away Linda." She walks over. (See my point?) "What is it you don't understand?"

"Well Ms Jay, I was just wondering if there was a polite way of determining whether or not someone is lesbian."

Tony Ladner, sitting next to me, perks his head up. "Not thinking of changing to the other team are you Linda? It'll break all the guys' hearts to know that you aren't giving them a chance to feel you newly developed tits."

I give him the finger.

Ms Jay takes a different approach. She hiccups at his words then, "Mr Ladner, I forbid you to use such crude language in my class." (This is obviously proof of her old age, two hundred and thirty-six. I mean, honestly, 'Mr Ladner' doesn't even deserve the title of 'Mr Ladner'.)

"Oh, but Ms Jay," This is me speaking in case you were confused. "That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Mr Ladner (cue sneer) is of the male gender, and would favour the female gender over his own because of their, for lack of a better word, 'boobs'. Correct?"

What can I say; her old fashioned way of speaking inspires me.

"Breasts, Linda, you say 'Breasts' not... the way you put it. But, in answer to your question, yes, I suppose, though it is quite irrelevant to my class and you are being very disruptive, you are correct. Any reason for the sudden curiosity?"

"Well yes Ms Jay, I was wondering if that would mean you're a lesbian, because I try not to seem rude, but you too, seem to favour the female gender over the males, and I for one can think of no other reason for this other than you being lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with being lesbian Ms Jay, I support you entirely. I just don't think it's very fair to the male gender though, don't you agree Ms Jay?"

Her cheeks are flaming red by this point, how cute, well as cute as a three hundred and twelve woman can get. I don't blame her though. At the mention of the words tits, boobs and breasts we had the whole class's attention. High school is so predictable. And lame. But oh well, it's not everyday you embarrass a three hundred and eighty-four year old teacher. Well, for most people, I only see her every second day to be exact.

"Miss Linda! That was absolutely unacceptable! I ought to send you to the principles office! But as it happens, he is away for an excursion. So, I have no other choice but to seat you at the front desk by yourself. Go on now."

"Gladly Ms Jay, but does this mean I have your cooperation to keep your lesbian thoughts outside of class?"

"Right! Miss Linda Tollem, Vice Principles office immediately!"

And as I collect my books and walk out of class… "And no I am not a lesbian!"

Best part is that the Vice Principles my uncle. My favourite uncle, and did I mention I was his favourite niece?

"Good morning Mr Greene," I say as I bounce through the office door. Yes, bounce. I'm bouncing because I haven't seen my uncle for a few months understand? I have every right to be bouncing.

"Linda, why am I not surprised that you got into trouble the first class of the year?"

"Well, sir, mischief runs in the family," I say putting on my best role-play adult voice. Told you I was feeling bouncy.

He gets the hint. "Why, yes, Miss Tollem, I understand completely. Especially that handsome uncle of yours, he really is quite the cheeky boy."

"Uncle Shane, please tell me you did not just call yourself a cheeky boy." Role-playing mood is officially ruined.

"No can do."

"Ew. I really did not need to hear that."

He sighs with disappointment. "Linda, please don't tell me high school has corrupted your brain into thinking everything is a sexual innuendo."

"Not my fault. It's contagious. I would like to see you made it through a whole day hanging around people talking about perverted things and stay clean of the virus." Seriously, I would. Then I can use it as proof to tell everyone I am right.

"Well, I do actually," he points out. I have to admit, he made a good point too. "But enough of that; you have to tell me, how was Europe?"

"Amazing." I sigh one of those loving, lost in time and space, sighs.

"I see. You know, I read a very interesting email from my sister a few weeks ago. Do you want to know what it was about?"

"Yes. No. Maybe." Pause. "Do I want to?" I ask. Another pause. "Wait, do you mean to say that my mother dearest, the same mother dearest who banned me from any form of computer all summer went behind my back to write her own emails?"

Uncle Shane looks very guilty all of a sudden. "Oops."

Just wait until I get home mother dearest, you'll have some talking to do. Until then though, "Yes, well, you were saying?"

Guilty face turns to an amused one. His emotions are so easy to read. Am mine that easy to read? I hope not. Best check in the mirror tonight anyway.

"Well, your mother was writing about how excited she was about how your, exact quote, 'thin as paper chest having developed into quite the large melons'. I for one, as a male, and your uncle at that, did not need to hear about that certain information, but good for you."

By this point I'm banging my head on the desk making a quite attractive sound.

Another thing I'll have to talk to mother dearest about.

"Okay Linda, enough with the banging, I think your mum has complained to me about you possibly having a mental disorder enough for one lifetime."

Mental disorder? Thanks mum. That's another thing to add on the list. This day just keeps getting better and better. And better.

"Hang on. Should I be concerned that you managed to memorize that absolutely delightful quote about my apparent melons Uncle Shane?"

I get a blank look in answer. Oh yeah. I shut him down good!

"Uh, well. Linda, can we never speak of your, ah, yeah. Feel free to bring it up with your mother though. In the mean time you may as well tell me what you did to poor Ms Jay this time."

Yes, you go be a shy child and avoid the question. Actually yes, that's a good idea. Professional vioce on...

"Well, I don't think I personal did anything wrong. Everyone was thinking it. I was the only one who had the guts to do something about it."

"Of course you were. It says in the note here that you were accusing Ms Jay of being a lesbian. Want to try explaining that?"

When I told you his emotions were read easily, I wasn't lying. Clear as day, his face shows amusement hidden (not very well) behind a stern look. Luckily, since he's my uncle, I'm guessing (hoping) that I'm the only one who sees this sort of thing. Otherwise, he would suck at this job. I hope it's only me.

"Yes." I say plainly. Who wouldn't try to talk there way out of punishment? "I never said there was anything wrong with being a lesbian, but if you were there and saw how much Ms Jay favoured the girls over the boys you wouldn't be able to stop thinking it either. I did even say it mean or rude or anything, it was all polite. As you know, I was brought up that way. It's not my fault someone who was born around the time of Cleopatra doesn't pick up on the difference between pure curiosity and insult. You should get someone to give her lessons on that."

He smiles. Thank goodness he's not hiding his emotions anymore. That stuff annoys me. "Ah, Linda, what are we going to do with you?"

"Love me, spoil me, hand me free chocolate peppermint everyday."

If only… If only…

Perfect answer though don't you agree? Yes. I thought so too.

"Maybe another time, I'll let you off with just a detention this time, okay?"

"Yes sir, but I'm telling you now I will be thinking of ways to kill you in your sleep during every second of it." Hear me roar!

"Tell me what you come up with. But for now, there's only a few minutes left of class, so do whatever you want I suppose."

Hmm, whatever I want…

"Realistically Linda."


Whatever I want realistically...

"Can I use your computer and check my emails? I haven't had time to yet since I got back."

He hesitates then smiles and answers, "Just this once."


Unread messages:

Jemma Flynn – My holidays p9 miss you

Jemma Flynn – My holidays p8 missing you

Hannah Reed – Hey tell me about Europe

Julia Frolic – I have a new boyfriend bitch.

Jemma Flynn – My holiday p7 and missing you

Jarred Montgomery – Why are you banned from email again?

Jemma Flynn – OMG! READ NOW!

"Read later, read later, talk to later," Yes, I am mumbling aloud to myself, get over it. "I don't give shit; Delete. Read later, Jarred of course I could reply to that when I'm banned, you nong-head. Jemma Flynn, omg read now. Hm, will do. Click."

Hey Lindy-poo. Enjoying Europe? Anyway, as soon as you get this you HAVE to remind me to tell you something REALLY important. Okay? I mean, ASAP!

she couldn't have just put it in the email? I sigh.

Looks like I know what I'm doing at lunch then.

Wow. I have the best timing ever. As soon as I thought that thought (what else did you think I'd do with a thought?) the lunch bell rings.

Off I go. It's time for Jemma to talk the talk. Or you know, just explain whatever.

Jemma and the rest of the gang are sitting around our bench. It is quite the cool people's place.

Mitchell sees me first. He's a cool dude, one of those cool computer geeks.

"Linda! Hey, how'd the principles office go?"

"Principles office?" That's Amy speaking. She knows all the gossip concerning the adult world. You wouldn't believe how useful that information is sometimes. "That can't be right, he's away today for important school business. She would have gone to Mr Greene's office. Am I right?" See what I mean?

The last question being directed at me, I nod and open my mouth to confirm it when Hannah interrupts. (While we're still going through the introductions, Hannah's one of the loyalist friends you will ever come by.)

"Her uncle? Like he would lecture her. I bet you they gossiped the whole time."

"That we did. I still managed to get a detention though."

"Aw, you poor thing." That was Jemma. (The most amazing person ever!)

"Yes, it's true. I got your email by the way."

"What email?"

Besides being the most amazing person ever, Jemma is a sufferer of forgetfulness and slowness. I have learnt to put up with it as it came with the package of being her best friend. No one's perfect I guess.

But I beg to differ. I am pretty damn close.

"'Oh my good read now. I have something important to tell you, A.S.A.P'"

"Oh, that one." She looks at the others who are listening to our conversation suspiciously. "I'll tell you soon."

She gets a chorus of 'oo-oh, it's a secret. Please tell.' from everyone.

She changes the subject. What a smart little bunny she can be sometimes.

"So, Linda, what did you do to get into trouble this time?"

I don't like the fact that she said 'this time' like it's a regular occurrence. Twice a week is not a regular occurrence, damnit! Not to mention as I have pointed out, I shouldn't have gotten in trouble. It was pure curiosity.

Mitchell answered for me anyway, which is fair enough. I would have faked innocence. I mean, answered the truth, which is innocent. Obviously.

"She called Ms Jay a Lesbian." At least I know he hasn't changed over the summer. He's as blunt as ever. AS in speech. Not the other thing. (See what highschool has done to my brain!)

"Now, now, Double M, (Mitchell Macintosh) I did no such thing. I may have implied it bluntly, yes, but it depended on how you interpreted it."

"So yes, as I said, Double D, you called Ms Jay a lesbo."

"No, as I said… Wait, Double D?" My name starts with a L. Not D. Confusion decorates my voice. It's like the icing on a cake, the snow on a mountain peak, the tinsel on a Christmas tree. Gold tinsel of course, and with sparkles.

"Your boobs," He states bluntly like it's the least confusing thing ever.

"Um, What –"

A new voice enters our little circle. A voice that sounds manlier than the last time I heard it.

"I think what he means is how your boobs have magically grown over the summer. Or so the rumours say. I came to see it for myself."

Oh bugger.

It's the king himself! I haven't had time to fix my make-up!

I'm joking.

Hear me laugh! (hahaha)

It's actually Joel. He thinks he's top shit. He's wrong. So very wrong. So much that it's sad. So much that he's just plain sad. That any mention of him is sad.

Bottom line: He has a large penis growing out of his head.

I bet that's the only large penis he has. Or penis, period.

Oh burn buddy, burn!

Random thought: Why is it people say that there's a penis (or dick) (or cock) (or testicles) (or multiple 'thing's) (whatever) growing out of said persons head. Why not wrist, or shoulder, or belly button, or places that would be rude to mention like they're supposed to? I shrug my shoulders to that. Well, no I don't. I actually know the answer to that. But others might not, so shut up.

"And I am not a Double D damnit!"

"Hey Joel," Mitchell says, getting up to do the whole fist bump, man hug thing. Yes sure, ignore me.

"So, Linda, what to stand up and give me a show?" I change my mind, go ahead and ignore me.

"Joel, go suck a dick." I give him the finger as I stand up and face him, with my other hand pointing to somewhere not here. So, to the left. My left, not his left. Because that would be a wall.

Déjà vu, anyone? (In case you got caught in my rambling, which I would bet on one, and only one, peppermint ice-cream that you did, I'm talking about the giving of the finger, and the sucking of a dick.)

I would walk off too, except this is my lunch spot. He should go …suck a dick… somewhere far away (To the left).

"You can suck my dick. Especially now since everyone was right. You got boobs Linda. They look better if you leaned over though, hint, hint. And they are mighty bigger than I expected. Wow."

Three guesses as to where he's looking.

At my boobs. Congratulations, you're now up to four points. Do you feel special?

You shouldn't.

"Uh, I'm so tired of this." I sit down and bang my head on the table. Yes, we're back to that as well.

Is it just me, or is this day very repetitive?

"You know Linda, I heard you liked Sam. If you let me touch your boobs I could put in a good word for you."

"Um, ew." Bad mental pictures. "Who said I like Sam?" Act casual. Act casual.

Okay, bringing you up-to-date. I do like Sam. So right now I'm pretending to not make a big deal of how he knows so he doesn't pick up on the fact that I do. When, really, I am totally freaking out on the inside. Full on terror.

Luckily, Jemma intervenes, "Joel, no one loves you, go away." Then quieter to me, "I owe you a peppermint ice-cream." Super best friend Jemma to the rescue!

I do love peppermint ice-cream.

We leave.

When I look back I see that Joel has a penis growing out of his ankle.

Who would've thought?

Mmm, delicious, tasty, scrumptious, delightful, delectable, mouth-watering, plain amazing peppermint ice-cream.

"You know, if you keep looking like that at the ice-cream, people are going to think you've gone asexual; and not in a good way."

The taste of it just makes me want to... I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know. I do know it has something to do with giving me more peppermint ice-creams. Yes please!

"Although, with those boobs, I'm sure they won't mind either way. If anything you're doing them a favour. They'll have a reason to exercise their imagination. Oh, and to masturbate. Not that they need a reason to do that but. The image will be stuck in their minds for weeks. The best part is that they can keep changing the image and what not, because as I said, you gave them a reason to use their imagination. Ice cream smothered everywhere and such. But, you know, you're call."

Well that all made me freeze. Stop sucking on the drool-worthy peppermint ice-cream and look at my oh-so-thoughtful best-friend.

See, I could thank her for stopping me before I get jumped on by said surrounding guys, and girls, with new said imagination.

Or, I could…

"Stuff that." …go back to eating the everything-(absolutely everything)-worthy peppermint ice-cream.

How I love thee.

Unfortunately, this is no never ending peppermint ice cream, (if only… if only…), you know like those never-ending packet of Tim-Tams? Anyway, the ice-cream is gone. I am sad. But now, I can get right into business.

"Jemma, pretty please tell me why Joel seemed to think I liked Sam. Because I know for a fact that I certainly didn't tell him. And tell me what the email's about while you're at it."


Deep breath in, deep breath out.

"Yes, email." Repitition, repitition, repitition (oh the irony). "'Oh my good read now. I have something important to tell you, A.S.A.P'"

"Oh, that one."

"Yes, that one."

"Oh, that's what I had to tell you!"

"Yes, yes it is."

"No, I mean it's the same thing about Joel knowing you like," pause, whisper, "that person starting with an S, ending in an 'am'"

Like the frightful kitten I am, and as is expected of me, I look around hoping and praying that no one had heard that.

No one had. We proceed.

"Can you tell me already? He's not supposed to know. And now he knows, and I am practically going insane over here."

"You don't look like you're going insane. I mean, aren't you already insane? Can you get insane-r? Wait, as your best friend, does it make me insane because I hand around an insane person?"

"Tell me already for goodness sake!"

"I take that as a yes to all of the above." She takes a breath, my patients is wearing thin. "You know how I teased you by writing on your pencil case 'I love Sam' when you weren't looking?"

What's this? "No."

She gives me a look. "And you call me slow. It's been there for months."

"Oh, oops. Wait. You're saying that you wrote on my pencil case, the same pencil case that is put under the publics eye, that I love Sam. Are you insane?" I screech-speech-ed the last sentence. Who wouldn't?

"I thought we established that I was insane already?"

We had? I'm about to say my exact thoughts aloud when I'm interrupted.

"Now, do you want to hear this or not?"

She got me there.

"That's what I thought. Well," breathing, "You know how you told me to take you're pencil case home because you hid some lollies in there and you didn't want some random break into your locker and steal them?" I nod. "Yeah, well my cousin, Sarah, I told you about her once, saw the writing. Sarah's stepdad's second cousin, Melinda, is actually Tony's sister's best friend. So Sarah told Melinda at some family gathering, who told Tony's sister, who told Tony, who being friends with Joel, told him, who probably told Sam. Understand?"

"No. But, what? Sam knows! Sam isn't supposed to know! No one was supposed to know. Least of all Sam!"

Hyperventilating here, get me another peppermint ice-cream. Please.

"What's this about me?"

Oh crap.

It's the king himself! I haven't had time to fix my make-up!

I'm not even kidding this time.

I'll give you three guesses as to who- It's Sam!

Holy crap.

Hyperventilating here, get me my knight in shining armour. Please.

Oh wait…

(In case you didn't get the sudden realisation; I was meaning that my knight in shining armour is there already. You know, Sam. Hahaha, funny I know right.)

"Hey Sam, excuse Linda for looking like a deer in headlights, she does that sometimes. And we weren't talking about you, we were talking about Samantha her cousin who threatened to tell her dad about this thing she did. So, yeah, not you."

Super best friend Jemma to the rescue! Except the deer in headlights part. That was pretty uncool.

"Hey Sam! How are you on this wonderful day? It is quite the wonderful day don't you agree?" Two more points if you knew this was me speaking.

Another two points if you can guess where he's looking.

At my beautiful eyes, surrounded by my long beautiful eyelashes, that are currently doing that flirty blinking thing, that actually only makes you look stupid but I can't help. Just like the gentleman he is, is expected to. He is definitely not looking at my boobs. Nope. He wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. Never in his wildest dreams. (Though in my wildest dreams that's for sure.)

Okay, I'm lying.

His looking at my boobs.

Dear God,

Why couldn't he be different!


"Yeah, it's a great day today. Well, if it wasn't it certainly is now. Hi Linda, I like your… your looks have matured over the summer. Yes, that's it."

It's just a phase he's going through as a male teenager. It's just a phase he's going through as a male teenager. It's just a phase. Just a phase. Just a phase. Just a phase.

I open my eyes - as I had closed them - and see under my long beautiful lashes (why Sam didn't notice these I will never know) Sam with his oh-so gorgeous looks, and I am instantly over his little phase and back to being in love with him.

You've got to hate hormones sometimes… most times.

A voice interrupts our conversation, or our short silence with Sam's eyes looking between my eyes for a second, then my boobs for five. That doesn't happen often I swear! The voice that interrupts though is not one I like. Not by a long shot. This person is a bitch.

"Hey Sammy-pie, I've been waiting for you for forever! As your girlfriend, I must say I don't appreciate you leaving me waiting. As my boyfriend, it's your job to work on that. Okay Sweetie-Sam-pie?"

You're up to ten points if you knew that this was Julia speaking. I should have read that email after all. Don't you hate irony sometimes? And did you hear the strains on the words boyfriend and girlfriend? Talk about bad acting skills of not knowing I was there.

Stupid bitch!

I let out a slight cough. Attractively of course, Sam, Sam-sweetie-pie (can you get more pathetic?), is still there. Him having a girlfriend, and that being Julia, does not make me want to get rid of this crush. In fact, it being Julia, it gives me more determination to get Sam to notice me. Although I do have to argue that his taste in girlfriends aren't getting any better, just worse. No worries though, because soon that will change!

Julia, hearing my (attractive) cough, turns and 'sees me for the first time'.

For a moment I see her look back down at my boobs give a look that is both of disgust and jealousy. Makes me have another reason (that's now two reasons), for being glad to get boobs.

It's now two pros against four hundred and fifty-three cons, give or take. That's almost as old as Ms Jay. That fact doesn't make me feel better.

"Oh, Linda, I didn't see you there. I guess I was too busy looking at the gorgeous face of my boyfriend. Who can blame me really, you have to agree, Sam is absolutely gorgeous. Makes me and him the perfect couple right? I just feel sorry for anyone who has a crush on him," Two points if you got the hint that she's accusing me of having a crush on Sam. "Because, Sam and I, as I said, are just the perfect couple and I know we are just too perfect to ever break up, and stop being girlfriend and boyfriend."

I did not miss Sam looking at me for a moment when she mentioned the crush part either.

So Sam knows, Julie knows. The two people I didn't want to know most, know!"

My life is screwed.

I look to Jemma. Literally. I look to Jemma, direction. I look to Jemma to save the day once again.

She gives me a look back, nods, and then puts on her thinking face.

Thankfully, she's not being so slow today, well, at this moment in time.

Maybe it's only when there is a crisis. I'll have to remember that.

"Sam, Julia, as much fun this chat has been catching up with you guys and everything- "

Sam interrupts and makes my heart twirl. "We haven't caught up. Linda, do you want to catch up after school today with me? I heard you went to Europe."

Cue heart fluttering franticly.

"Of course Sam."

Cue eyelashes twittering like crazy.

"Awesome" Cue smirk. "Meet me at the big oak tree out front."


Julia makes a hysterical noise (un-attractive). Swirling back to the present, but at the same time still on cloud nine, I look to Jemma. She smirks at me, nods, once again, and continues speaking.

"We must be off now. Goodbye."

We leave. I'm on cloud nine I tell you!

I hear Julia accusing Sam of who-knows-what as we go.

For the next few hours all I can think about is catching up with Sam after school.

A few conversations. A few giggles. A lot of eyelash twittering. A few accidental bumps. A few kisses. A few touches. A few romantic nights. A few pregnancies.

One lifetime of being with Sam and his amazing self.

Oh, what a life I will lead.

See why I can't wait?

Finally, it took years, the last bell rings.

Hip-bip HORRAY!

I could skip to my locker in joy.

Oh wait…

(Did you get it that time? If so, two more points for you! Actually five, because I'm in a good mood.)

I meet Jemma at my locker. She immediately demonstrates taking deep breathes in and out. Implying that I should copy her.

I do.

Oh how Sam and I will make good use of those two words above one day.

After throwing my books into my locker, snatching at my bag and slamming the locker shut, I am running down to the big oak tree at the front of the school, with the words, good luck, from Jemma being the last words I hear.

So my crushes are my weak point in my sarcastic confident attitude.

Shut up.

Happens to everyone I'm sure.

He's late.

I've been here waiting for the last 38 seconds.

One minute and 26 seconds.

Three minutes and 2 seconds.

He's here!

At three minutes and 24 seconds.

Took his bloody time! I won't bring it up though, might make me seem like Julia.

"Hey Sam!"

"Hey Linda."

Slight awkward silence. Only slight mind you!

"So, how was the rest of your day?"

"Yeah, good." Pause. "I broke up with Julia. I realised she just wasn't the one for me."

"I know what you mean," I giggle. "She's just too bossy, and clingy, and not to mention a bitch."

"Yeah, you got that right," he chuckles manly. "So, I was thinking Linda, now that I'm single, and your single, and, will you be my girlfriend?"

Mental dramatic sigh. This is the moment I've been waiting for all year. I hoped for more romance, but this moment none of the less!


He smirks, and brings me in for a kiss.

Heaven I tell you. Who says you need to die to get there? I certainly don't.

Then he goes in for the kill and grabs my left boob.

"Did I tell you that I love your new boobs? Because I do. So much."

Now wait a minute, back it up.

When I went through the thing of marriage and stuff before, I meant that we would go through the list slowly. Not feeling up my boobs in two seconds flat.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this!

Sam wasn't supposed to be like this!

Why am I still kissing him while having this sudden realisation?

Well, he is a great kisser.

But, still.

Surprisingly with little regret, I push away from him.

"You my friend are a dick sucker."

I get up, and walk off. Yes, you heard me. I walked off on the guy I've been pining after.

"Linda, wait!"

I pause and turn around. "Yes Sweetie-Sammy-Pie?" I say, purposefully fluttering my eyelashes to look like an idiot.

"Uh," He looks taken aback with my sudden change in personality, both the strong independent woman I have become and the fluttering idiot. So he should! I have had a sudden burst of sense in this once sense-less heads of mine that thought he could have been my husband. "I don't know what's going on with you, but can we please go back to kissing?"

Dick Mongrel Bastard.

"No. Goodbye Sam."

Once again, I walk away, and I feel absolutely great!

"Yeah, well, I always thought you were a bitch anyway."

I give the finger to the tosser himself.

P.S. If you originally thought I was going to let my love for Sam blind me entirely from my morals, you can take fifteen points off your score. You now have zero points.

Sucks to be you!

A/N: I thought I should be un-original and have a useless authors note at the end.


Another un-original note: please review. There is a green button below that is simply dying to be pressed.

a.k.a. Please tell me what you think.