The Story of a Dying Girl

Okay, so here we go! Thanks for everything, I really appreciate you just reading this story! Thank you to Irma the Lunch Lady, LilyCanBeMyPyjamas, NegroAmigo, and a guest for reviewing.

Thank you NegroAmigo for giving me some advice.

So, here we go!

Chapter 8:

It's been a couple days since we conquered the Goliath and since we watched a battle over the albums.

I'm sitting under a tree on the field, looking out ahead, looking at all the things happening before my eyes.

The kids being bullied and the couples breaking up and the people hooking up and the slackers doing last minute homework and the nerds talking overexcitedly about stuff.

"Hey stranger."

I look up and see Emily standing, smiling.

She sits down next to me and I move to the side a little so she can lie back against the tree, too.

She lies back against it and grabs my hand.

I can feel some kinda electricity or some cheesy shit like that whenever I touch her.

I hate saying that because that's what everyone always says and it sounds like complete bullshit.

But my heart beats a bit faster when she's around.

She puts her head on my shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh you know, contemplating life and the mysteries of the planet."

She laughs.

"Shut up." She pushes me a bit and rolls her eyes.

"What? You don't like my answer? I put a lot of thought into it. Thought you would be pleased."

"Have you been listening to the album?"

"Yeah, excessively. I probably have a problem by this point."

"Only one problem?"

"Oi!"

She laughs again.

I really like it when she does that.

She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into her, lips connecting and electricity flowing and chemicals of happiness being released.

Is that a thing?

I'm gonna look it up.

It's a thing.

Maybe if Mrs. Incart more time talking about science rather than her wanker of a husband, I would have known that already.

Cook is sitting at the same spot at lunch, because really, what else would have been expected.

"Hey Blondie."

"Hey Cookie."

I sit down next to him and pull out some kinda tofu food packed from home.

It looks like theirs cat hairs on it.

We don't have cats.

I pull out a chair and sit down.

"So… fucked Katie, yet?" I ask suddenly, laughing, remembering

He looked over at me, smiling.

Oh no.

I know that face.

He has a plan.

"I have a plan."

Fuck.

I sighed.

"Alright, what's your grand plan?"

"I'm gonna make her fall madly in love with me."

"… Don't think that's gonna work."

"Why not?"

"… She's not exactly you're number one fan. In fact, I think she despises you on many levels."

"You'll see."

"Okay…"

And we continue to eat.

I go over to Emily's house after school.

The door's red pant is chipping slightly and I notice a small crack, and now I can't unnotice it and it's really starting to bug me.

Mrs. Fitch opens the door and I hold out my arms awkwardly because I already know what's coming.

"So good to see you again," she says and kinda rocks a bit, which just makes things even fucking stranger.

Eventually I walk up the stairs, all 17 of them, because I can't exactly walk up only 14 of them and get to Emily's room.

I open her door and leave it open as I walk over to her bed and throw myself down on the bed.

That's the new rule:

Leave the door open.

Mr. Fitch is the one who first told me after one day when I began to walk up the stairs.

"Just in case you get any funny ideas," he says humorlessly, but with a certain edge that says, "I remember when I was a teen. What a hoot! If you do what I did as a teen, I'll kill you with my bare hands."

I left the door open for that reason.

Emily was lying on the bed, reading some book with an old orange color.

She put the book down and looked over at me, smirking.

She placed a kiss on my nose and moved her head to my chest.

"You smell good," I said randomly like a complete fucking twat.

"Really? Do I smell shit most of the time?" She said in a mock serious tone.

"Dog shit to be precise," I said laughing as she nudged me.

"Cheeky."

She closed her eyes and snuggled- that's not a great word- into me.

Snuggled.

S-n-u-g-g-l-e-d.

Huh.

It's kinda odd.

I don't think I like that word.

I mean, I like snuggling with Emily, but that word is kinda odd and I kinda hate it, but I'm not sure if I do.

Well anyway, she cuddled into me, and I smiled because it felt so fucking good to have her here in my arms.

Even though my feet kinda hung off the bed almost comically.

"You want to watch a movie?" She asked after a bit, moving up from my arms.

I leaned up on my elbows.

"What movie?"

She looked at me, a smile growing on her face and I knew where she was going.

"No. No. No. We watched it like ten times already!"

"Please!"

"No."

And do you want to know what she did?

She puppy dog eyed me.

That is not fucking fair!

"Oh alright," I sighed as Emily walked up and over to her bookshelf, where a few DVDs were lined up neatly.

She grabbed the Princess Bride and walked downstairs and into the living room.

Now listen, before you start shitting on me for not liking The Princess Bride, let me explain.

I like The Princess Bride. It's a great movie.

But Emily loves that movie.

I have watched it three times now with her.

We have been dating for almost a month now.

The fact that I will have now seen it four times is a lot.

But…

It makes Emily happy, and I love how her face lights up when the grandfather first comes into the room and how she squeezes me arm a little tighter at certain scenes and how she laughs or how her eyes light up.

So…

I'll watch the movie again.

Mrs. Fitch is not on the couch like I thought she might be, which is very fortunate.

It's not easy watching a movie with your girlfriend- now that's a word I like- when her mum is there and trying to join in awkwardly.

Not like that.

Sorry.

I mean, when she's trying to talk to you and stuff.

Well now I sound like a bitch.

Fuck it, back to the couch.

Emily puts the movie in and cuddles into me.

The movie begins to play and the beginning baseball video game appears on the screen.

The movie passes, and my focus keeps on drifting to her.

Her red hair is splayed out and I just want to touch it, like a fucking moth to a fly.

I crane my head down even more and watch childlike wonder appear on her face and I smile because it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.

I kiss the top of her head softly.

She cranes her head upwards and smiles at me.

She has such a beautiful smile.

It's bright and emotional and simple and lovely and… incredible. I've never believed that anything was perfect, ever. Never have I thought that something or someone could be perfect.

Could be so amazingly amazing that life is not the same without them.

But she is.

And it feels odd to be saying this.

I feel like I'm just a gooey mess of emotions and mush and gross coupliness. Like the whole, "You hang up." "No you hang up." "No, you hang up."

Gross.

Someone just fucking hang up.

But here I am, a fucking gushy twat who just went on and on about her smile.

For fuck's sake.

She does have an amazing smile though.

And it just hit me.

Sitting on that couch, thinking about her smile, it hit me.

This girl is so amazing that if she is not here, on this planet, nothing should or ever would be okay again.

The sun would like… fall out of the sky, and mum would become extremely hateful towards her hippie friends, and… squirrels would rule the earth or something.

I don't know.

But nothing would ever be even remotely okay because I cannot imagine a world without Emily Fitch. I don't want to.

I won't.

And I won't have to, because she will be fine.

I hold her a little tighter.

If I hold her tight enough than nothing can hurt her.

That is what I choose to believe.

Maybe I'm a fool, but as long as I hold her tight enough, nothing will hurt her because I will not let it.

The movie goes on with light touches and heavy snogging.

I really like snogging Emily Fitch.

But I'm not gonna go on about it because I have already gone on about her smile and I feel like if I go on any longer it will become too much for anyone to bare.

I might even vomit from the disgusting cuteness of it.

"Nomi."

"Nomi."

"Naoms."

"Naoms."

"Naomi."

It takes me a lot longer than it should to realize that she's calling my name.

"Yeah?"

"You zoned out for a bit. The movie's over."

"It is?"

She smiled softly.

"Yeah, space cadet."

I look at the time and realize it's late.

I sit up and give her a kiss goodbye, grabbing my bag and walking out the red door, to my house.

Dinner is awkward to say the least.

It's not about political injustices or some new yoga class with Jan or a date with her boyfriend Kieran.

It's about colleges.

"So… you thinking of any colleges, love?" My mum asks casually.

I almost choke on my gross rice dish.

"What?"

"Well, you are a senior. You really should be applying and stuff."

I take a moment to take a deep breath.

I don't have a clue what I am going to do.

I don't know what I want to do.

I'll probably just go to college and get a nine to five job and work until the day I can retire and then I'll die.

I remain silent.

I'm in my room reading a book for English when I hear a buzz on the desk.

I sit up and walk over and answering the call from Cook.

"Operation Shag Katie is a go."

I read it and frowned.

This was going to go horribly wrong.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm gonna start to like… woo her and shit and then she'll shag me."

"Ooh! Someone's got a crush!" I teased.

"I do not."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"You know what, you're right. She's not even that good looking."

Will he take the bait?

"What? She's fucking hot. Have you seen those mint tints?! Have you seen her face? Have you seen it?!"

And he took it.

"You've got a crush."

"No. I just want to shag her."

"Why are you lying to yourself Cook?"

"Shut it Blondie. I do not have a crush."

"Alright…"

To many people, it may just seem like Cook just wants a shag, but if you knew him, you'd know that by now, Cook would have probably gotten it.

No, I think he's likes her.

I don't know why he wouldn't have shagged her by now, but I don't think it's because she doesn't want to.

I think it's because he likes her too much.

But anyways.

All of a sudden he turns to me with a crooked grin and I can almost see the fucking light bulb over his head.

"Set us up."

"What? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Yes. Set us up on a double date or some shit."

"Do you remember what happened last time?" I say, thinking of sleeping in the tent with only one sleeping bag as the rain hit hard against the tent.

"It'll be different. This time, I'll charm Katie… and then we'll shag. And then it'll be over," he says simply.

I feel like it won't just be over.

"No way."

"Please. Do it for your best mate."

He's giving me these pouty eyes and he looks fucking ridiculous.

I roll my eyes.

"I'll ask Emily."

"Yes! You're the best mate ever!" He says, sloppily kissing my cheek.

"Be quiet!" The librarian shouts.

She looked over at us and squinted her eyes, looking like she was trying to make us burst into flames.

She probably was.

Cook and I were sitting on his couch watching a movie when I decided to just bite the bullet and ask about a double date.

I took my phone out of my pocket and stepped outside, calling her.

"Hey." I could hear her smile over the phone.

"Hey," I said, already smiling at hearing her voice.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to hear your voice," I said, already completely forgetting why I had called.

"You're a soppy twat."

I heard a loud cough from inside.

"Oh, and uh… Cook was thinking that… well, remember when we all hung out to get the album?"

"Yes, I remember that event that took place a couple of days ago," she laughed.

"Well… it went pretty well I'd say. Maybe we could… do it again?"

"You want to go on a double date with my sister and Cook."

"Yes."

"This is a terrible idea."

"But?"

"She'll never agree."

"But?"

"She's gonna hate it."

"Is there a but?"

"But… I'll ask."

"You're the best."

"I know."

What a cheeky little fucker.

I walk back onto the couch, sitting down smugly.

"What'd she say?"

I said nothing.

"What'd she say?!"

I said nothing.

"For fuck's sake! What did she fucking say?!"

I turned to him.

"It's a maybe!"

"Woo!" He cheered loudly. "She said maybe!"

"Who might have a date with Katie Fitch?!" He yelled.

"You might have a date with Katie Fitch!" I shouted back, laughing.

"I thought you just wanted to fuck her," I teased.

He calmed down.

"Yeah… uh… that's why I'm excited."

"Sure."

I grabbed the joint from his hand, taking a long drag and passing it back to his waiting fingers.

"Don't smoke the whole damn thing Blondie!" He said, putting it back between his lips.

"Yeah, cause you worked so hard to steal it from Freddie."

Freddie was another stoner at school. It was like taking candy from a baby with him.

That's a horrible figure of speech. What kinda ass wipe takes candy from a baby?

He laughed.

"Freddie didn't even realize I took them. What a dickhead," he said howling.

He gestured towards the mint tin filled with neatly wrapped spliffs on the table in front of us.

I steal the spliff and finish it off, as Cook takes a sip of my beer.

"Hey, that's my beer!"

"That's my spliff."

"It's a community spliff."

"This is news to me Naomikins."

Emily is waiting for me under the same tree the next morning.

I still interact with all the other groups like I did before, but not as much.

It's odd.

The whole school has figured out by now that we're a couple, but it was immediately accepted.

I thought there were gonna be more questions about how I managed to land Emily Fitch.

I sit down next to her.

"I have good news," she says.

"You do?"

"Yeah, but first…"

She leans forwards and captures my lips.

"Katie said yes to the double date," she finishes after we've pulled away.

"Really?"

I thought she would have shot it down immediately.

"I think Katie might like Cook. She denies it, of course."

"I think Cook likes Katie.

She smiled.

I throw my arm around her shoulders.

She leans into me.

"So… what should the date be?"

"A movie?"

"Katie won't like that. She doesn't really like movies."

"A concert?"

"Katie won't want to go see anything you guys like."

"What would Katie like to do? I have a feeling that list will be a lot shorter."

She frowns, thinking.

Her eyebrows scrunch up and it's really fucking cute.

"What about… a restaurant or something?" She suggests finally.

"Cook plus fine dining is not a good combination."

"Oh, it won't be that bad."

"I guess we can give it a shot."

"So, Friday then?"

This is going to be a giant fucking shit show.

"What?!"

I was currently standing in Cook's room. It was Friday, and he was shitting his pants.

"Why are you acting so surprised? I told you we were going to a posh restaurant!"

"I didn't think I was gonna have to wear some nice looking shit!"

"What did you think I meant by posh you tosser?!"

"I don't know?! Like… a shirt with no holes."

I smacked my forehead.

"I said, 'Cook, do you have nice clothes?' and you said, 'Yeah, I have some.'"

"I didn't know!"

"How could you be that fucking stupid?!"

"You know me! It is very possible that I can be that fucking stupid! And you should have clarified!"

"It's hard to clarify basic sentences!"

He had begun panicking once I showed up at his house wearing a nice shirt.

He began rifling through his closet, throwing clothes around.

"What about this?" He says a bit breathless, holding up a dark blue shirt with a semi large hole in the side.

I shake my head.

"This?"

He holds up a nice looking shirt.

I nod.

He flips it to the back and I see the words, "Tit monster" in peeling white letters.

I shake my head.

I give up and tell him to just wear one of his polo's.

"Now come on, we're gonna be late thanks to you, you prick."

We jump into his mum's car and drive off to the Fitch residence.

"Alright, I'll be in the car," he says, parking.

"What? I hate going in there."

"Well, I'm not going in."

"Why not?"

"Mr. Fitch wants to rip my balls off," he says completely serious.

"I thought you wanted to impress Katie," I tease, hoping to bait him into doing it.

"I can impress her from the car."

"Rock, paper, scissors. Loser has to go in."

"Deal."

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" We shout.

He holds out rock and I hold out scissors.

"Two out of three?" I ask, hoping he'll agree, knowing he won't.

"Have fun in there."

I sigh and unbuckle my seatbelt, walking to the door.

I knock a few times.

"Naomi, kiddo, how are you?" Mr. Fitch asks, smiling.

"Good, how are you?"

"I'm doing well."

I stand there awkwardly.

"Come on in."

I really would rather just stand out here and wait, but it was a command, not a suggestion.

I walk through the door, sitting down on the couch.

"The girls are almost down."

We sit in silence.

"So… You go to the gym a lot Naomi?" He asks finally, looking for any kind of common ground.

He wasn't gonna find it.

"No."

I would have liked to say not really or not recently, but that wouldn't have been honest.

I did not go to the gym.

"What?!" He asks shocked.

"It's not really my things," I say sheepishly.

"Do some pull-ups, I'll spot you," he says getting up and gesturing towards a pull-up bar that hung in the doorway.

"Oh… uh… it's alright Mr. Fitch."

"Nonsense. Get up on the bar, kiddo."

Once again, this is a command.

I put my hands on the bar.

"Alright, go."

I lift myself up.

"Put some back into it!"

Mr. Fitch has transformed into my personal trainer in the matter of seconds.

I lift again.

"A proper extension!"

I try again.

"Again!"

Jesus Christ.

"There we go! Another!"

I am not cut out for physical exercise.

"Dad?"

Oh thank fuck.

Emily is looking at her dad standing in front of me, while I struggle to pull myself up and not break all the bones in my body.

"What's happening?" She asks, laughing as I drop down and Mr. Fitch goes back to smiling.

"Showing Naomi, here, the importance of pull-ups."

She looks me expectantly.

"I feel like a whole new person," I deadpan.

She bites her lip to stop from laughing as Mr. Fitch looks at me, obviously pleased with what he's hearing, not picking up on the joke, which is good, 'cause if he had, I don't think he would have been too pleased.

Katie comes down behind Emily.

They are both dressed nicely and look pretty, but I can only focus on Emily, and how stunning she looks in an elegant, black dress. I can literally feel my mouth drop a bit and my heart beat faster, but then again, that always happens when I'm around Emily.

"You're gonna catch flies, Campbell," Katie says sharply, and I feel my cheeks turn red.

"Uh… should we go?" I ask finally, hoping the previous moment where I stood there like a twat staring at Emily will have been forgotten.

"Back by 10:30?" I ask looking over to Mr. Fitch who just silently nods.

I open the door for them as Katie just passes through it without a simple thank you, but then again, I wasn't expecting one, and Emily reached up and kissed my cheek.

We head out to the car where Cook is out and leaning against it, trying to look cool, but instead looking like a nervous twat.

Serves him right for making me face Mr. Fitch alone.

"Katiekins! You're looking shaggable."

That was a compliment from Cook. It might not sound like one, so let me help you out by dissecting it:

Katiekins! You're looking shaggable.

Katiekins: Term of endearment

Shaggable: Good looking

Translated into normal person talk:

Katie! You look nice.

Katie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know."

"You look nice," I said to Emily who just blushed and looked away cutely.

I opened one of the back doors for her and she stepped in, while Katie looked expectantly at Cook.

"Well?" She said harshly.

"What?" Cook looked confused.

"For fuck's sake, open her door Cook," I said, shaking my head and getting into the passenger seat.

"Ohhhhh, I get it." Cook opened the door and tipped his head slightly. Cheeky fucker.

"About time, I'm not a cheap date, wanker."

Cook climbed in and we set off, driving to the expensive restaurant in silence.

The restaurant was packed and a man who served as the host was standing there, forced smile and a snooty mustache.

I never knew that a mustache could be snotty, but his was.

He looked at us and I could already see him barely refraining to open his eyes.

Cook strode us with confidence.

"Reservation for four under the name, Cook."

"Cook? Is that a joke?" The man asked, in rude disbelief.

I didn't know disbelief could be rude.

I'm learning a lot of things tonight.

"No. It's not a joke, so if you would just stop being a prick and open your fucking booklet, you'll see we have a reservation," I say sharply as Emily reaches out and squeezes my hand in support.

He narrows his eyes at me and flips open his book.

"Ah, yes, here we are," he says with a tight smile.

He grabs menus and starts to walk away.

"Fucking dickhead," Cook mutters under his breath.

The waiter leads us to a small, nice looking table.

He drops the menus sloppily as we sit down, me facing across from Emily and sitting down next to Cook.

"He seemed nice," Emily says sarcastically.

He did not seem nice.

Not one bit.

In fact, to be honest, he seemed… what are the words I'm looking for?

Oh yeah! A complete fucking douchebag.

"Jesus, why is everything so fucking expensive?" Cook wonders out loud.

I kick his shin sharply, which is kinda impressive since I'm sitting next to him.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for Naomio?"

"Sorry, must have been a muscle spasm."

He's not wrong though, everything is really fucking expensive. Jesus, I'm gonna be completely broke by the end of this.

"Are you sure you guys want to eat here? These prices are ridiculous," Emily says, flipping through the menu, unimpressed with the outrageous costs.

"For fuck's sake," Cook says a little too loudly and we get annoyed stares from couples around us.

Cook looks sheepish.

A waitress comes over to us.

She looks bored and not impressed.

"Can I get you guys anything?" She sighs.

We order waters, trying to order alcohol and immediately getting shot down, despite Cook and I pulling out fake IDs.

When she finally comes back, she takes our orders without any interest or care.

"So…"

"Uh…"

We are sitting in silence. I'm holding Emily's hand across the table, Cook is stealing glances at Katie and then looking at his water, which has apparently caught his interest.

Who can blame him? Watching ice melt slowly into your water is very interest.

Katie looks impressed, but every now and then she glances at Cook.

It feels like I'm in fucking middle school again, where the biggest drama was if one person kissed another, and dates were awkward and… sweaty?

"This is fucking boring," Katie says bluntly, and I can't help but laugh, because she's completely right.

This is awkward and boring because we are currently sitting in a restaurant too nice for our liking, waiting for food that might never come, and getting disgusted, yes, disgusted, glances from a senile old man, a couple in their fifties who are probably on the brink of strangling us, and many others.

Me laughing loudly doesn't help the current situation.

The food finally comes and she pretty much just drops the plate in front of us, frowning and not really looking like she cares.

"This isn't what I ordered," Emily speaks up tentatively as the waitress begins walking away.

She continues to walk, despite being close enough to have heard.

"Hey, it's not what she ordered," I say louder.

"Oh."

She walks up and to the table.

"Is there a problem?"

"It's not what she ordered," I say politely, because I get it. I get that it is not easy being a waitress and having to force a smile and often times, you're not treated well.

I get it.

We don't belong.

Sometimes it feels like I never do.

Nowhere in this equation should teens like us be in here. I get it. I get it. I fucking get it.

But for tonight I just want to sit down, and eat a posh dinner with my girlfriend, and my best mate, and even fucking Katie.

"Oh."

Nothing happens.

"Can you maybe, get the right thing?" I ask, once again politely.

"It's gonna take a while."

"We're pretty much used to waiting forever by now," Katie says sharply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She narrows her eyes.

"It means you've been a bitch," Katie says easily.

"Listen, I don't really know what you're implying."

That's strange, because I thought it was abundantly clear what Katie was implying.

I guess not.

Maybe if she had been in Mr. Dirken's English class, she might understand the meanings behind sentences better.

"I'm implying that you've been a cow, so has the wanker host and all these losers around us," Katie says loudly.

"You can leave."

There's a murmur of agreement from aforementioned losers.

"Just leave," I hear the senile old man say.

Jesus, calm down.

I'm about to say something when Cook jumps up.

"I just wanted a nice fucking double date with the girl I like. That's all I fucking asked for! Okay? I get it! Okay? I fucking get it. You don't like us. That's fine. Just don't be such fucking dicks. Yeah? Have you fuckers understood that? Let's just go."

He sits down before the senile old man has a heart attack.

The old guy is looking at us like we're trash and the couples around us look like they want to kill us, which I don't doubt they do.

We get out of our seats, as we hear voices telling us we have to pay for our shit.

We don't stop.

In fact, we march straight to the car.

"I don't know about you fuckers, but I want a burger," Cook says starting the car.

There's a murmur of agreement.

So we drive to some small burger place that looks kinda gross and kinda good. Don't ask me how that works out, but it just does.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Go back.

Rewind.

Cook's speech.

Did he say the girl he liked?

He said the girl he liked.

"You said you like Katie!" I say out loud randomly, looking at Cook who is giving me a look, (it's not a nice one).

He blushes, yes, James Cook, the guy who has told me about all his sexual conquests in great detail and made obscene thrusts at almost every girl, has just blushed.

Something is clearly wrong.

Wait.

Is Katie blushing too?

Jesus, she is.

"You guys are blushing. What the fuck is happening?" I ask, cringing at this unknown site.

Cook ≠ someone who blushes and has crushes

Katie ≠ someone who blushes and has a crush on Cook

So what the fuck is happening?

Emily is looking in disbelief too.

"So… uh, burgers," Cook says awkwardly and gets out of the car and Katie quickly follows.

I get out, still not sure what's going on and I open the door for Emily.

"I'm sorry that tonight didn't go as planned," I say as she grabs my hand and gently rubs her thumb over my knuckles.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. That was shit."

"Naomi," she grabs my chin softly. "It's cool. I didn't want to eat at some posh, stuck up place, anyways."

And I smile because she always manages to make me feel better, I feel less shit when I'm around her.

I feel amazing, really, because she looks at me like I matter and like I'm the most impressive and lovely person she knows, adoration in her chocolate brown eyes.

I know that I'm not lovely, and not really too impressive either, I mean, I don't even have a clue what I want to do with my life, but she looks at me like I am, and I can't explain to you how happy it makes me.

She nudges my side and we start to walk.

"How long do you think it'll take 'til they're shagging?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows like Cook.

"Naomi! That's my sister!"

"You're right, I apologize for insulting Katie's virgin status."

"Shut up," she laughs.

And in we walk into the near empty burger joint, but I already like the place more because there is no host with a snotty mustache with a vendetta against teenagers.

There is no waitress who huffs indignance towards us and doesn't like us and there isn't a senile old man or a snotty looking couple drinking some pricey wine.

There are just burgers and milkshakes and we split into two booths, using the excuse that we cannot fit into one, when the real excuse is I want to be alone with Emily, and I think Cook and Katie should talk.

I mean, they probably won't, but we're gonna stick them in a booth together and hope it goes well.

So now Emily is leaning into me in a cracked pleather red booth and she's leaning her head on my shoulder and I bring my hand up gently and swipe the fringe out of her eyes.

"You have really pretty eyes," I say, tilting my head down and looking into her warm eyes.

"I like your eyes," she says kinda shyly.

I kiss her, capturing her lips, because even in the dim light swinging precariously above us, she looks truly and utterly beautiful, and if I do not kiss her now in this old and slightly gross burger joint I might regret it for the rest of my life.

That sounds like an exaggeration, I know, but believe me when I say this, it is not.

So I do that, and she caresses my jaw softy- everything feels so soft and gentle and kind and lovely with her- and we deepen it. It's getting more and more passionate, I'd like to think it's not excessive, but it probably was.

I had always thought those couples were gross, the ones that made out everywhere, I mean everywhere, but I kind of understand it now because I had never had someone that I wanted to kiss someone so badly.

It's pure ecstasy, really, pure joy and happiness and electricity, and her, just leaning her head on my shoulder is like all those Christmas mornings I longed to experience as a little kid, (Mum called all of that stuff bullshit and said that consumerism had ruined the whole point. I was of course completely confused, because a five year old does not have much experience with the word consumerism. I was a smart kid, but not that smart).

We break away after we hear a polite cough and a waitress looking kinda sheepish.

"Uh, here are the milkshakes, what can I get you guys to eat?" She says with a smile. It being a burger joint, we order burgers.

It seemed like pretty simple math.

Burger place = burgers

Now, Emily and I were coupley, but we didn't do that cliché, share a milkshake with two straws thing.

No, no, no, the line was drawn at that, because that was way too cheesy.

So, I start to drink mine, Emily going at a much faster pace then me, and by the time burgers arrive and we start to eat, she's done and I'm only halfway into mine.

"Naoms…" she says in a sing-songy voice.

"No."

"Nomi…"

"No way Ems," I say, using her nickname.

"Nomi…" she says again, dragging out the o.

"No.

"Please," she drags out the e.

"Oh, alright," I say finally, rolling my eyes.

"You're a big old softy," she teases, claiming my milkshake as hers.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Face it Naomi, you're sweat and soft, like a big old marshmallow."

"… No…"

"… Yes…"

"Oh, fine! I'm a big old pushover and softy who will hand over the rest of my milkshake because it makes you smile. Happy?"

"Yes, very much so," she says with a cheeky smile.

I feel like a stalker.

I'm watching her so intently.

The way she eats her fries and burger, eating quicker than I had previously believed possible.

The way she drinks the milkshake and wets her sips after every couple of sips.

I feel like some creeper who rifles through your trash and keeps your old Garibaldi packets.

But it's hard to not watch her.

Everything she does has some kinda beauty to it.

And it's while I'm obsessively staring like no one else exists, because at this moment it doesn't feel like anyone else does, a check is set on the edge of the table.

"I hope you guys had a great meal. We hope to see you soon!" The waitress said with one of those over-the-top smiles.

I saw Cook and Katie were standing by the door, laughing, and… holding hands?

What?

Have I traveled to some alternate universe in which Cook holds a girl's hand and laughs and pays for her dinner and what?

What is happening?

I throw some money down and grab Emily's hand, pulling her up and into me.

"Are they holding hands?" She furrows her brow.

"I didn't think Cook knew how to do that."

I am so gonna tease him for this.

We walked back to the car, the happy couple… or, whatever they are, walking ahead as Emily and I swung our clasped hands back and forth, a huge stupid smile on my face.

I opened the door for Emily, who in return gave me a kiss on the cheek and climbed in.

We drove home with the radio playing loudly, dim streetlights passing by as we drove past nameless neighborhoods.

I could see Cook's smile, lightened up brilliantly, contrasting all those lights passing by in a beautiful blur.

I think that's what being a teenager is:

This beautiful, chaotic blur in which life goes by fast and all these moments that make you feel so incredibly alive will once be relayed as faded memories in old creased and bent photographs.

When I am old and have a head of thin, white hair, I think that I'd have quite a lot of photos.

They would remind me of all these times when I was young and all my small problems seemed so big, where the next history test consumed me with worry. They would remind of my best mate and his crooked smile and his cheering yell that resonates. They would remind me of that girl who once had that rich red hair. They would remind me how lucky I am to have people like that in my life.

This probably sounds unbelievably sad, like this is me telling you that these people will be gone after my teenage years, but that is not what I mean.

I mean that the teenage versions of us will be gone.

No, I plan on having these people in my life for a long time, yes, even Katie.

Anyways.

Cook is driving with that large smile and my eyes keep flickering to the back as I see Emily's eyes start to droop shut, and it warms my heart a bit because even the way she falls asleep is so incredibly gentle and peaceful.

It's like she's slowly wishing consciousness goodbye, making last minute promises to return soon and trying to be polite before exiting like a guest at an awkward expensive dinner party.

And when we get there, she's asleep, head leaning on the door, and Katie is looking out the window, already opening the door to get out.

And what is Cook doing?

He is looking directly at her as she opens the door and climbs out, his eyesight following her as she walks in front of the parked car, and then it clicks and he gets out.

It's strange in a way.

I've never really seen Cook stare at a girl unless it was at her butt or her tits or something else like that.

It's not that Cook isn't looking at Katie's butt or boobs, because he is, but he's looking at all of her.

And he's seeing all of it, all of her, and I think he likes it, her.

I get out and gently open Emily's door.

"Ems. Ems. Wake up, babe. We're here," I say softly as her eyes flutter and I see this look of adorable confusion.

"We're here?"

"Yeah, you fell asleep on the way back to your house," I whisper, trying to be careful and cautious because I feel like being too loud will break this fragile, dazed state she's currently in, and somehow hurt her.

She yawns and rubs her eyes, and before I know it, it's like she was never asleep.

She's awake and alert and has now gotten out of the car, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips.

"Hurry up slowpoke!"

"Oh, fuck off Fitch." I walk towards her, placing my hands on the soft fabric surrounding her hips, leaning into her.

I kiss her again, and she responds before she can continue to tease me, hands bunching up my shirt and tugging before moving them to my cheek, stroking carefully back and forth below one of my closed eyes.

She pulls away and I'm still breathless and my eyes are still closed, but I know once I open them she will be smirking at my reaction.

She's smirking at my reaction.

And before I know it, she's walking to the door, swaying her hips a little, teasing me.

And here comes Cook, this Chesire smile on his face, and I know he's trying to hide how much he actually likes Katie.

It's not like he can get away with it though.

This is not the first time that Cook has looked at Katie like that.

And so he walks over to me and we stand for a bit, making sure they get in safely, before we climb into the car.

"Twins Blondie! We've bagged ourselves twins!" He's trying to cover it.

"Nice try Cook, you are so crushing on Katie."

He looks at me sheepishly.

"Fine. But I still say this calls for some celebrating."

Hope that wasn't too bad. I know by now, it might be kinda tiresome that nothing big is happening, but I promise that soon it will.

I really hoped that you guys liked it, and I'm glad I got this up because I wasn't sure if I was gonna be able to because it is my birthday today, so I was not sure when I was gonna get time alone, so I decided to do it first thing in the morning, but then again, I always just do it first thing in the morning.

I hope that people are still reading this story.

Anyways, it'd be really cool to tell me what you thought, especially since I'm very nervous about this story.

And really, thank you for everything.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday, possibly Monday.