I stand there for a minute, half expecting him to suddenly remember who I was really talking about. Unfortunately, careless Colin continued blabbering on with his colleagues. I decide that I am not about to waste my time, waiting for this guy to kindly respond to me so I just take a heavy sigh and trudge to algebra.

Because that's what every girl wants to do after a failure attempt at asking Captain Ignorance out for a friend.

I take my seat. I sit right near the wall so of course, I bang my elbow into the "What's Cool in School?" board. A place reserved for the latest scoop at school. I often get distracted by that trap. So many colors and fun, eye catching fonts that you simply cannot look away.

Finally, I gain the strength to pry my eyes off of this turquoise colored paper, titled "Winter Formals are FUN!" This quickly reminds me of poor Emily.

What would she think now? I honestly did not want to tell her about earlier. I mean, how do you tell her something like that? Do you just go up to her and say, "Hey, I asked Colin out for you but he didn't know who you were but hey, look on the bright side! Now you can find a more reasonable, kindhearted person to fall in love with instead!"

That is, if I wanted to be known to her as the biggest jerk in the universe.

I finish this handout that had incredibly small font, in about five minutes. I was pretty good at math, speed wise. And just a few seconds later the bell blares through my earhole.

Time for lunch.

Today for lunch the cafeteria was serving chicken fingers and sweet potato curls. Barf. The only part of that dish people ate were the chicken fingers. Every time I got up to throw something away, there seemed to be a growing amount of sweet potato curls overpopulating trashcan town. They may have seemed like a good idea at the time but now, I don't see why they still serve them.

Any hoo, I sit at the spot Emily and I usually sit at. A table, close enough to the more tolerable people we like, and far enough from the loud and raunchy popular girls.

Just right.

Minutes upon my arrival, Emily shows up, happy as a dog that just got fed a bowl full of bacon.

"SO! Did you ask him? Did he say yes? What was he like? Was he all 'oh yeah, Emily, I love her!'?" Questioned Emily eagerly.

"Ha, that's a funny story, actually-"

"NO! HE SAID NO DIDN'T HE?" Screamed my distraught best friend.

"Well, on the contrary-"

"Oh, this day couldn't get worse! First I miss the bus, then I forget my Spanish homework, then I order poop fries! Now this?"

"Well, I hate to rain on your disastrous parade but, he didn't exactly know who … you were," I explained.

"Who did he think I was? Emily Balker?" she sobs sarcastically.

I stay silent, which only makes Emily cry heavier.

"Think Jess! What do you do when your friend is crying her eyes out over a guy she loved for ages?" I think to myself.

I pick up one of her cruddy fries and start talking with it.

"There, there Emily," I voice for a sweet potato curl in a monotone accent. "There are plenty of fish in the sea!"

"Oh, I don't know Mr. Fry, this fish was pretty unique. Alas, another fisherman will probably haul him to shore," bemoans Emily, clearly trying to keep the light mood alive.

This is just depressing. Never have I seen Emily this down before. I mean, she's talking to a French fry! I give my pal a supportive pat on the back. That either had no effect or it worsened her mood because right when I did she seemed to cry louder.

"How could he not know meeee?"

"Oh Em, it's okay!"

Yeah, nice one. That will make her feel much better.

So I sat there. Soaking in all the concerned stares with a, "How's it goin'?" or "Wonderful weather we're having!"

Best lunch ever.