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As far as I knew the worst thing in this world was wanting. This was always followed closely by hope.

The thing about wanting was that you couldn't control it. It's like being a little kid before Christmas, you can close your eyes and wish with all your heart -with all your soul- to get that one thing you desire above all else- be it a puppy or a pony- but you really have no control. I thought that when I grew up I would have some control over my life, but no. I'm still that little kid before Christmas, squeezing my eyes closed as tight as possible and putting everything I have into that wish, thinking that maybe if I believe enough it could come true.

It never does, of course, but that never stops me from trying. Because if I don't try… I don't know what I would do.

All I wanted in the world was too be cared about, to have people see me, to be a bit more brave, and to not hate my life.

Was that really too much to ask for? I mean, honestly it wasn't that selfish, was it?

Well, obviously someone somewhere -the person who go to run my life, someone with a terrible god complex- thought it was.

I hate that person, I really do. But, more than I hate them, I envy them.

Sometimes I wonder about my best friend's sanity. I really do. She's… out there. Crazy in the way that you either love her or hate her, there was no middle ground with Jen.

"Hey, are you going to eat you potatoes?" her question breaks the quite between us. We're sitting alone at our own table, like everyday and she's staring at me. Her hair is green today, clashing oddly with her copper skin tone and mixing weirdly with her natural hair color. But, this was Jen, and -to be frank- this was subtle for her.

"No." I sighed and pushed my tray toward her, defeated. She spooned the lump of mashed potatoes out of the plastic well and plopped it down on her tray, a huge grin on her face. Like a kid on Christmas who get exactly what they wanted.

Jen didn't have goals, and she didn't have worries. She was just a dreamer with her head in the clouds. She had the initiative to get what she wanted. Think it, do it, get it, be satisfied. That was Jen.

She squirted a liberal amount of ketchup on the deformed mass of starch. The potatoes looked like they were bleeding, though the ketchup was for too thick to give the perfect imagery though. But it was close enough for me.

I must have made a face, because she started defending herself.

"You should try it Kimmy Co, tastes just like French fries." she smirked at me before popping a giant spoonful in her mouth. She was shameless, and I was starting to believe that Jen never regretted anything. And in many ways, I wish I could be more like her. Outgoing, spontaneous, and always smiling. Jen was always happy.

I groaned. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?" At least a hundred, in my opinion. "It makes me-"

"Feel like an anime character." She finished the sentence she had heard many times before; her mouth full of potatoes. "I know, I know."

I sighed, because that's what I do. Instead of talking, I sigh.

"You're going to sigh you life away, Kimmy, if you keep that up." She shook her head lightly before staring off into space, something she did often.

Always the dreamer.

I pushed my mixed fruit around with my fork instead of eating, glancing around the cafeteria to see if he was here. Normally I didn't stoop to such stalker-ish tendencies, but he hadn't been in class for two weeks. It wasn't like I was tearing my hair out because I was worried about someone I knew nothing about, it was that I didn't like being taken by surprise. I just wanted to know if I would have another Jared freed day to attempt to raise my History grade -which had gone for an F to a C- in his absence.

I really didn't mind him being gone, really. It made it easier to concentrate on things, and not worry about how looking at him makes my palms clammy. In many ways I disliked my infatuation though it was really more of an annoyance. I just kind of hoped it would go away, since nothing was ever going to happen with me and Jared. I'd rather not get my hopes up.

"What's the matter?" Jen asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged. "Nothing, I'm just worried about my History grade." It wasn't exactly a lie, but Jen saw through it none the less.

"You mean Jared, don't you Kimmy?" she smirked at me and I felt myself blush.

"No." I attempted to lie, but she just laughed.

"You worry too much, Kimmy Co, you need to loosen up. Let your hair down. Stop to smell the roses. Lighten up. You know, all that jazz." she made extravagant hand gestures to help convey her message, melodramatic as always. "Dare to dream a little and stop being such a realist."

"I can't." I mumbled, it was a bad habit I picked up from my mother among other things. Like the fact that I jump at shadows. It was hardwired in my DNA.

She mulled that over before finishing off her potatoes. I glanced at the clock to realize that the bell would ring in a minute.

I dumped my tray of untouched food and headed to my locker to grab the essay that I had typed up last night before slipping upstairs to the History classroom. A whole seven pages on Napoleon that should raise my grade to a B, or if Mr. Whitmore was feeling generous an A-.

Of course, it was probably like any history room anywhere. Walls covered with posters and a monotone atmosphere that could drive students out of their minds. It contained desks, maps, a projector that was at least thirty years old, and no sign of Mr. Whitmore.

I sighed in exhaustion, in anguish.

A book fell in the door way, dropped by someone I hadn't expected seeing. I met his unabashed stare for only a moment before lowering my gaze to my shoes, a blush coloring my face.

It looks like I was wrong about Jared not being here today.