A/N Not too thrilled with the beginning, but I tried. I got this idea because my crush keeps on asking out all these girls who are slutty and where too tight outfits! Oh well! The story takes place after WPA. Song is Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne.

Disclaimer: Nope!

Hey! Hey! You! You!
I don't like your girlfriend!
No way! No way!
I think you need a new one
Hey! Hey! You! You!
I could be your girlfriend

I had my first crush when I was five. His name was Tommy and there was something about the way his overalls looked on him and how he ate glue.

My second crush was on a boy named Drake when I was thirteen. He was tall, muscular, funny, kind of immature. But which boy wasn't at age thirteen?

Marco was my third. We dated. We kissed. He turned gay. I was upset. We were there for each other. We broke up. We got over the ordeal. We talked about cute boys.

Sean was my fourth crush. Don't even get me started.

Then there's Craig. He's number five. After Ashley left, we only had each other for that summer, with Marco gone and Jimmy making out with Hazel. And somehow spending nine weeks with a handsome boy, who plays guitar and sings like an Abercrombie God, can make a girl with so much control of her hormones fall madly in love with him.

You're so fine
I want you mine
You're so delicious
I think about ya all the time
You're so addictive

And I'm almost positive he liked me back. Like the way he'd call me at three o'clock in the morning to tell me about this song or how he invited me to the movies every Friday or how he'd ask me to come over to his house to hang out or help him baby-sit Angie; like I was his girlfriend. He'd high-five me and talk about cute girls he saw at the community pool or walking down the street; just like a-

God damn it! Just like I was his best friend! Like I was one of the guys!

Throughout the beginning of senior year, I kept trying to get him to see me as more than a friend. Because I wasn't a guy, I didn't want to talk about hot chicks in bikinis, and I didn't want to high-five his hand, I wanted to hold it!

I could've sworn when he invited me to be in his band and started calling me just to talk, without the mention of lyrics or girls and when he'd say "I love ya, Ellie!"

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! He loved me like a brother from another mother!

Don't you know what I could do to make you feel alright?
Don't pretend I think you know I'm damn precious
And Hell Yeah
I'm the motherfucking princess
I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right

"Enough was enough," I thought. So, when the wedding gig came along I was turning up the heat. I wore an off-shoulder black dress, that played up my womanly figure, I so often hide behind baggy shirts and pants. I played up my hazel eyes with shimmery eye shadow and eyeliner and my fiery red hair was curled and pinned back playfully with a little clip and looked like something from another era. With a splash of floral perfume and my lacy push up bra I was ready. Tonight was the night Craig would realize that I wasn't one of the guys. Because after all, boys don't wear bras and don't look this hot.

When I arrived at Craig's house, his eyes became instantly fixated on me and my ensemble. I could tell that it finally clicked that I wasn't a person you'd invite over to watch a football game or looked at Playboy with.

And wish it had stayed that way.

Manny had been invited as well. She wore a green satin low-cut tank and short sparkly skirt and silver stilettos. She looked like a tramp and Craig loved tramps; his favorite movie is "Lady and the Tramp" because it has "tramp" in the title. I could feel me going from possible hot girlfriend to scratch-my-crotch boy.

"I hate you! You're a slut!" I wanted to scream at her.

And that's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was head over heels, hold a radio over my head in love with this boy! I was hating a girl that didn't do fucking anything to me because a part of me wanted to believe Craig was mine. I wanted to believe he was taking me out to dinner, and holding my hand, and kissing me, and touching me, and telling me he loved me because I was his soul mate. A part of me thought I owned him.

Which I didn't.

And my God, did that hurt like hell!

What happens next is too embarrassing to even repeat, or that matter, remember period. To sum it up though, it involved a drumstick, a slutty dancer, a very attractive boy, and a girl who spent two hundred dollars on shoes and a dress for this god damn wedding, and a heart getting broken, and girl getting kissed by the boy I liked, who wasn't me.

After that night, I threw out my dress and shoes, and slid on a pair of gray sweats and my converse, without any makeup, with greasy, flat red hair from not showering. I swallowed my pride and attempted to act like nothing happened as I walked over to that brick house with the hunter green door that I fell in love in. "Hey." I greeted, not sure what had happened to our relationship.

"Hey." He replied, not sure either what had happened to our friendship either.

I sighed quickly and stuffed my hands into the pockets on my sweats. "I have an X-chromosome. I don't want to talk about girls, or watch porn, or football games, or have burping contests. I PMS and you have a sister and you don't have a brother, and neither of those people are me. You need to understand I'm your friend, who happens to be a girl. A girl who wore a push up bra to impress you, because she had a crush on you. And you kind of suck for unintentional leading me on to think you liked me back. And for kissing Manny,"

"I know you're not a boy, Ellie. But you were a girl with no drama and no strings attached. Which was...refreshing I guess. I'm sorry,"

"I'm sorry too," I start to turn around and walk away, but he stops me.

"Do you want to come in? Hang out?"

"Yeah," I smile. "That'd be nice,"

We sit down together and something feels different between us. It's easy to tell that something has changed, but whether or not for the better or worse, that's not for certain.

"What do you think of Manny?" He asks.

She's like so whatever
You could do so much better
I think we should get together now
And that's what everyone's talking about!

"I think she's a whore, who wears too tight clothes, who thinks sex is a sport, and you guys will be broken up by next week," I want to tell him, but I don't.

Because I can't.

Because even though he broke my heart, I still love him. Even though he has a girlfriend and I have no chance. He loves her, and he's happy, and by telling him how I feel, would break his heart.

Which I don't want.

"I think she could be really great for you, Craig,"

He smiles and I force myself to do the same.

Oh well, at least he's happy.

Hey! Hey! You! You!
I don't like your girlfriend!
No way! No way!
I think you need a new one
Hey! Hey! You! You!
I could be your girlfriend