(A/N) Yay, finally writing something new :) Just warning you of a few things, (1) I'm using the hamtaro humans that were sort of popular like... 5 years ago. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go to this ( angelfire (dot) com/tv2/stan_and_pashmina/hamhuman (dot) html) page. I'm pretty sure these were fanmade, buuuut whateva. (2) This isn't like one of those normal fanfictions where you read it and you're expected to like the main character. Actually, it's the opposite: you're expected not to like her. (3) Mature stuff. So, if you're super sheltered, or like 12, live with it ;) Or go away.

She remembered that one time she helped that shy boy with the blue hair and red bandana with a project, and that one time she gave that odd, hick boy her number. She also remembered that one time in 3rd grade where she told that boy with the glasses his bowtie was neat.

What did this result in?

Persistent admirers.

And by this, she meant to the extremes: finding a locker full of chocolates and paper hearts (to the literal… she ended up having to pay the school back for missing books), outbreaks and class fights, and on occasion, texts wondering why she didn't love them back. It was scary. Oh, how she always attracted the strange ones!

Though, she remembers doing something far worse than asking a boy to work with her, or giving an odd boy her number, or even telling a boy his bowtie was neat.

She remembered sometime around last year. Actually, It was a year and 2 days ago... she had been reminded by him earlier this morning. Like he had every morning. Since a year and 2 days ago.

Oh, her boyfriend. Her lovely, sweet, endearing boyfriend.

He was really the worst.

Unlike the rest, she couldn't stay away from him. She'd usually take the high road and walk away from pursuers. But no. She had tried a lot of things: pretending to be angry, not answering texts, acting too busy for a conversation (admitting her feelings was out of the question!). Though nothing worked. No, he'd look down at her with those large, sad, and blue eyes, a petty frown gracing his lips, and whisper, "Pashmina, don't you love me?"

It was like he never did anything wrong! Well, he didn't. Ever. Though, she'd always like to believe so. And she'd always wish he were different. Always since a year and two days ago.

Then she couldn't remember what made her so bitter. She used to be the sweet, gentle girl. She always used to mother her friends, a classy lady, a grudgeless 16 year old. Now, she was a grudge bearing 17 year old, mother to no one. Although, she still did consider herself as a lady of class: she never spilled her liquor, always obeyed the "puff-puff-pass" rule, and swallowed but always wiped her lips when she was done.

What class!

"Is something wrong?" he said nervously. Nervously! After a year and two days! His pinkish lips just a little bit open, his eyebrows tilted. She was getting tired of his usual "concerned" look. This was the 3rd time today, after all.

And she couldn't help but stare displeasingly at his unusually long face. His rail-like body bothered her to no end (not because she has anything against skinny boys, though it's a little much when he's skinnier than she is. Imagine her frustration! …Thankfully he still weighed more – he was 6'4, tall as a flagpole). Oh, not to mention his eyes. His beautiful blue and sparkling eyes that sank a little too far into his head, and even brightened with a mass of thick eyelashes (envious as she was).

She continued to stare in disinterest. "Perfect."

He continued to frown, closing the enormous blue book in his hands (an encyclopedia?), and moved closer to her on the couch to envelope guilt in every part of her being. It worked. "I love you, Pashmina Mafura. Please tell me what's bothering you."

Oh ho! Prince Charming wannabe! Lovely.

She smiled politely. What else could she do? "Of course! I was just wondering how Penelope was."

She hadn't even seen Penelope for the last month. They texted occasionally, though, but it really was just occasionally.

He nodded, a sweet smile dancing above his chin, and then went back to his book. 'Maxwell…' she sighed. 'Please go home.'

She wished she could say that. God, she wished!

She was just such a lady of class.

(A/N) Just letting you know, I don't hate Pashmina. Actually, she's probably my favorite character next to Snoozer. But I'm really mean to my favorite characters for some reason :( Soo yeaahh. ~Ciao. ;)