Sorry for the wait and thank you for your lovely reviews Alice Boricua, djyxa, els, gumyumgirl, Beck89, fakevegan, ShiraNation, sexpistols, StayAwayMisery, sxe fiend, kg, fleetingcourage, fookyeahskins, M, Tallentedgurl92, CrystalKR1, spikie142003, mUfF MuNcHeR, Crevette, frostythesnowgirl3 and dourememberthat (PM). It's also nice to read your injury experiences and what you like to see happening. :) Cheers to the new reviewers and those that never leave reviews and left one for me, it means a lot. It always makes me anxious when I write a lot of basketball in a chapter, scared of alienating the non-sporty people but you guys have been really great in letting me know you've enjoyed it.

Unfortunately work is piling up and an exam is around the corner so…

I didn't know last chapter was a cliffhanger. Honest.

Don't know if you'd like this one, bit tough writing the fluency for this but I'd love to hear your views. Makes finding time to write the next chapter worth it.

Chapter Twelve – Unrequited Love

Emily

I stood with my hand covering my mouth in shock as I witnessed Naomi get knocked to the floor by that tall centre from the opposite team. That was completely intentional and probably everyone in the stadium saw her intentions before she knocked Naomi down. Everyone except Naomi herself, apparently. Everyone around me was standing and yelling all sorts of obscenities, including James who was red with rage and shooting his mouth off with words like "fucking cunt" and "dirty cheating bitch." I would've yelled a few choice words myself but I was intently watching and hoping Naomi wasn't hurt, that she'll be picking herself up soon.

She stayed on the floor for a worrying amount of time as her teammates surrounded that girl. I watched Naomi grimace as she stretched her legs.

"Oh no is she hurt?" I grabbed James' arm, getting his attention.

"I hope not." He replied seriously, shifting his attention back on his best mate. There was a concerned look on his face. "Go Naomi!" He bellowed, cheering her on. Cheers followed after his, raining encouragements down on her.

I watch her get helped up by her teammate, shaking her head and hobbling up to the line. She didn't look all right to me. That limping was worrying. How can they let her continue? Can't anyone see that she's hurt? I wringed my hands in anxiety, a part of me wanted to run down and tell the coach that her captain is injured.

It looked like she was fine as the other thousand people in the stadium and myself held our breath as Naomi took the free throw and screamed in unison when it went in.

Then she fell after starting to run, clutching on to what seems to be the back of her knee.

My eyes widened in shock and I gasped loudly, tightly gripping James' arm, watching the scene unfold nightmarishly in front of me. There seemed to be a sudden hushed silence all around as all eyes were glued onto Naomi who was looking anguished with pain. All the players surrounded her, even those from the other team, except the tall girl and were trying to get her to lie on the floor. The school's medic team ran out with a bag and stretcher and I knew Naomi's injury was rather serious. I couldn't get a clear view of Naomi from here and I was desperately anxious, jittery and distraught.

"Do – do you think we can – go down to check on her?" Even my voice was wobbly.

"Yeh I think we're allowed?" James looked at me worriedly, "We're her best mates after all right?"

Well he was. Me? I'm not too sure but I can't be thinking about that now. I needed to just be there for her.

We shuffled our way out of our row past our group of friends and hurried down the flight of steps leading to the court before breaking to a small run towards her. Technically, I don't think we could just enter the court while the match was still going on but no one stopped us.

As I got closer, I saw Naomi's face had turned rather pale and she had her arms over her head. She looked like she was in a great deal of pain and that was just hurting me to see her like that. They carried her away in a stretched before I could get to her side.

"What happened to Naomi?" I caught up and asked the remaining medic that had stayed back and had a word with the coach.

"It looks like she's pulled her hamstring."

"Is it serious?"

"From the way she went down and my first assessment, I think it could be a grade two or grade three strain. I can't confirm anything right now, not before we've given her a thorough checkup but she isn't gonna be able to play for quite a while."

A grade two or grade three strain? What does that even mean? But I knew I didn't like the sound of that one bit. And Naomi not being able to play for a while? That would definitely crush her. One thing I knew about Naomi is that she couldn't not play basketball. It is part of her; it is what she's made of; that's what she did best. I looked at James who had a grim look on his face, noting that that was indeed bad news.

We lost by a handful of points. The team sure put up a good fight till the end but we still couldn't beat them. The substitute wasn't as good as Naomi but they did their best. I just can't imagine how Naomi would react knowing that her team lost and that she wouldn't be able to play for a while. I still had my fingers crossed, hoping her injury wouldn't turn out as bad as it sounded. Maybe it'll just take a couple of weeks before she can be up and running.

.

.

That night I sat at my computer and did a bit of research, not on my current pending assignment but on hamstring injuries. I wanted to know everything about it, the type of injury, the severity of it, recovery techniques and the length of recovery.

I typed 'hamstring injury' in the Google search bar and clicked the first result that loaded on the page. My eyes scanned the page as I took in the information.

"Grade two tears are partial ruptures… Grade three, complete rupture…" I muttered as I read the words, getting more alarmed as I continued reading. "With more severe injury, swelling and a black and blue or bruised appearance will follow… palpable defect present in the muscle… tears and strains most often occur at the middle of the back of the thigh…"

I clutched my face in horror and clicked frantically, searching for treatments for such a tear.

"Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation. Grade two injury… four to six weeks, complete ruptures… approximately three months. Three months!" I exclaimed loudly. I really hoped hers wasn't a grade three injury. Naomi would have to go through so much pain and rehabilitation just to get healed.

No matter what, I am determined to be there for her, by her side when she starts her treatment step by step. I hope we can put aside whatever that happened between us this couple of weeks and she'd let me be there for her.

The thing is, I don't think I can ever forget it. I can't forget that vivid image of her parted lips as she leaned close to me, or the way she fleetingly brushed her lips against mine and kissed me. Neither could I forget how she fled after that, saying that it was a mistake. I think about it occasionally, almost obsessively, even though it brought me nothing but sadness, confusion and an ambulance load of pain.

But I can't think about this now. Though it also hurts me that Naomi was avoiding me all week, I'm still concerned about her. You know that feeling that even though the person you secretly like suddenly doesn't treat you too nicely, you still want the best for her and hope she treats you nicely again. Yeah so I want to be there for her in every way.

Yeah Naomi, you won't be able to run away from me. I turned off my computer and lay in my bed wishing tomorrow would hurry up so I'd be able to really find out about Naomi's condition.

The day at school could not pass any slower. I barely could pay any proper attention in class. My mind was just going on and on about visiting Naomi in the hospital after school. The principal had announced in the hall that Naomi had injured herself and would be away from school for at least a week.

A week? I thought grade two or three strains took weeks to heal. Maybe Naomi's injury was less serious! I brightened up at the possible fact, somehow feeling very relieved that she'd be up running and playing basketball again. I knew it would mean a lot to her and it means a lot to me that she's fit and happy. I still do care about her even though she's been treating me rather rubbishy. I don't know what is this between us but I can't let that be a wedge between our friendship. This isn't the time to think about myself.

Later after school, I met James. We agreed to pay Naomi a visit at the hospital. The principal didn't say students could visit but I reckoned we'd be allowed right? I know that if I was lying in the hospital, I'd like to be surrounded by the ones I loved. I don't know if Naomi loved me as a friend, like how I do, like how I love her even more than a friend but I guess being surrounded by people that care about you should bring your spirits up.

I didn't really know what to bring as a get-well gift for her so I bought a small fruit basket and a magazine. We took as bus there.

Getting to the hospital lobby, we approached the lady at the reception desk for registration. Apparently they're quite strict on visitors coming in and out.

"Hello, we're here to visit Naomi Campbell. May I know which room she's at?" I asked politely.

"Just a moment please," The lady typed something into the computer. "She's at room four-o-two. However… Naomi did have a special request. She requested that only certain people could be allowed to visit her."

Both James and my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Wha'd'ya mean miss? We can't visit her?" James frowned.

"She doesn't want people visiting her but she did say…" The lady checked the computer again, "That Gina Campbell, which is her mother, James Cook, Elizabeth Stonem and Freddie McClair are allowed in. I suppose you are Elizabeth then."

I opened and shut my mouth, words failed to materialize and I completely and utterly failed to give a convincing response that I could be Elizabeth. Why wouldn't Naomi put down my name in the visitors list? Was I not as important to her as the others? This unexpected situation stunned me and hit me hard.

"Yeh she's Elizabeth. I'm James." James came to my rescue.

"Oh alright," the lady replied a little unconvincingly, "Could you show me your IDs please, for registration purposes."

I gulped. We were caught. I didn't have a choice.

"Um… I'm not Elizabeth." I confessed while James pulled out his ID card and was handed a visitor's pass.

"I'm sorry then. It was requested by Naomi herself, I'm just following the patient's request."

"But Emily's her girlfriend." James interrupted urging me with his eyes to go along with it.

I think I would have been ecstatic if that sentence held any semblance of truth or just the thought of it would spark delightedness in me. But it wasn't. It was a lie, an untruth, an impossibility. I stood listless, uncommunicative, and downcast, obsessing over my newfound information.

"Oh I'm still sorry love, I'm just going by the rules. Maybe your girlfriend um – forgot to put your name? Maybe James could have her word with her. I'll gladly let you visit her when she gives the approval." The lady smiled kindly at me. "Perhaps you can wait at the sitting area while he goes up?"

"Thank you miss." James led me to the sofas at the sitting area.

"Wait here fer me eh Emily? I'll go up an' knock tha' lil twat's head for fergettin' to put yer name down."

I smiled a little at that. "Don't hit her, she's already injured – just," I lacked of words to continue. "Thank you," I simply said.

"Be back soon." James reached out his hand and tucked some hair behind my ear, gave a tiny smile, carried the fruit basket and hurried away.

I slumped down on a single seat sofa, resting my head on the backrest and hugged my bag close to my chest.

Why would she do that? Forget me. Was it unintentional? Probably. I should stop over analyzing or worrying unnecessarily.

But it hurt. To think that I thought we had something between us, something that was at least friendship, the very bottom line of our relationship. It hurt that it could be wishful thinking on my part. It hurt that she didn't feel the same way. It hurt like how you realise the person you fancied didn't care for your existence in their life. It hurt.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen minutes passed. Then I stopped counting. It was a blur.

I began to people-watch. A few people were in the waiting area, flipping distractedly at magazines, texting on their phone. I wondered if they were like me, forgotten by the patients they care for.

I rubbed my eyes, exhausted. The energy that was once there had dissipated. I was discombobulated. I didn't know how long I had waited but the waiting was unsettling me and eating me up.

"Emily."

James had appeared beside my sofa without me even noticing.

"Why did you take so long? Did you see Naomi? Is she okay? Can I see her?" I bombarded him with anxious questions.

"Yeh," he placed his hand behind his head and scratched it awkwardly, like he was struggling to find words. Carefully chosen words.

"Naoms is fine – had a lil chat wif her. Bit of a grouch tho'. She hurt her leg an' the doc said it's pretty bad."

My mouth fell open in shock. "But – I mean how long will she take to recover?"

He tilted his head for a glance at me, "Says it's 'bout two to three months? But she can't get back to playing immediately. Gotta let them muscles heal properly."

From what I recalled from my research, her injury seems to be the serious one, like a grade three. I can't wait to get up there and see her, comfort her, tell her it's going to be fine after she recovers. I can't imagine how devastated she would be. I want to be there for her when she gets out of the hospital and if she can't walk, I'll volunteer to be her human crutch.

"Can I see her? How long will she stay here?"

"Think they're gonna keep her here fer a week. They got her leg all strapped up an' iced an' placed up now."

James wasn't answering my initial question. It was like he was deliberately ignoring it.

"Can I see her?" I pressed.

His eyes briefly met mine but he dropped them back on his thighs. "Eh Naoms doesn't want anymore people visitin' her – says she's in no state now."

My heartbeat flat lined. I bit my lip trying to control the increasing confusion and gush of surging emotions that were threatening to spill.

"Did – did you say I'm here?" I stammered out.

"Yeh, but she said she aint wantin' too many people visitin'," he shrugged. "Say's she wants ta be alone. Pretty grouchy but – don't blame her," he looked at me again, this time with sincerity in his eyes, "must be 'bout her leg."

I nodded. It didn't make sense. What has her injured leg got anything to do with not letting me visit her? She was avoiding me, for fuck knows what reason. Why would she do this to me? Why the fuck does she have such an impact on me?

I was angry. I care so fucking much about her yet she doesn't seem to care for it or appreciate it. I was sad because I cared. Too fucking much.

"Hey I'll come back tomorrow an' talk to her 'bout lettin' yer up okay?"

I shook my head. I was done caring, well I wish I was, but I've gotta start somewhere.

"It's okay, just – take care of her okay?" I managed to quell my bottled sadness.

He nodded and we left the hospital. I didn't return again.

The next week passed slowly, painfully, achingly, tepidly. I filled my after school activities by mainly doing loser activities, like helping out in the library or just heading home and completing assignments. For the past few weeks, it had been filled with meeting up with Naomi to tutor her or watch her during her basketball practice. These days now feel empty, a string of idle monotones days. JJ got himself a pretty girl called Lara, Panda and Thomas are very much inseparable, and myself? Nothing much going on for me to be honest.

James visits Naomi almost everyday when he doesn't have his football practice and I'm not too close enough with Effy and Freddie to hang out with them. He walks me to classes when he can and calls up to check on me occasionally. It's nice, you know, to be treated like a proper friend; something no one would ever figure James was capable in that.

I tried not to ask James about Naomi. Of course I'm burning with curiosity on her progress but I just didn't want to know anything about her, if you know what I mean. Out of sight and out of mind. Maybe I can forget the part that I like her. But James does slip me little details about her during those walks to classes. Like how the swelling has reduced, or how she's grumbling about getting sick of hospital food, or that she's going to be discharged at the end of the week.

I'm not longer mad at her, or sad, well less mad and sad. I'm looking forward to her return back to full fitness and playing the game again. I want and hope happy Naomi back in my life again. Maybe if she fully recovered, she'd revert back to the Naomi I knew and we'd restart all over again. I'm allowed to hope for things like that aren't I?

.

.

It was only the week after Naomi was discharged that she finally came back for classes. It was all rather obvious actually, in a sense that we were informed that there has been a reassignment of classrooms to accommodate Naomi's injury. All her classes had been shifted to the first level so she didn't need to climb the stairs.

As usual, Monday was our morning math class. I hurried along the hallway, wondering if she was really going to finally turn up. It's been two contactless weeks. Not a text or a call. Do you know how agonising that is? It was like she disappeared from my life without a trace. I was trying to get used to it.

I hasten my pace, scanning my head looking for Naomi who was nowhere in sight. Katie was striding in front of me, thankfully, completely oblivious to what I was doing.

I wrenched open the class door and my eyes instantly fell on James and Naomi. They were already seated at their usual seats. Apparently they had arrived much earlier than me. My heart did an involuntary flutter as I came face to face with Naomi. It's been so long since I'd seen her or even have the prospect of talking to her. It was almost like the first time where I was properly introduced to her in the very same class; shy, tongue-tied, awkward, in awe, swooning, I experienced all of the above again. Déjà vu.

"Hi." I said to both of them. "You're back." I could stop myself from breaking in to a genuine and relieved smile even though I was internally kicking myself for such a lame question.

"Yeah." Naomi replied with a smile, equally warm yet reserved. That would suffice. That was a start.

"My girl's tough." James ruffled Naomi's hair affectionately earning him a mock glare for messing up her effortlessly tousled hair.

She still looked beautiful. Probably even radiant. Her shoulder length tousled blonde hair remained as resplendent as I'd remembered, flawless skin, perfect cheekbones with slightly pink cheeks and heart stopping crystal blue eyes that had captured my heart from the very first time I saw her. It was like forgetting all the unhappiness that she had caused me and liking her all over again. Just like that. I was usurped, captured, undone, temerity of putting my heart in her hands again. A captive. A prisoner. I couldn't escape. If I could I'd surely walk away, but I'm just such a sucker for her, who was I kidding.

She was wearing a navy half-zipped blue hoodie over a white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of black knee length tapered shorts. A pair of crutches was leaning against the wall. I almost forgot about her injury.

"How – how's your leg?" I asked, a bit timidly.

"Getting better, I guess." She replied with a smaller smile and I nodded.

There was an awkward pause. "Okay I'll just – " I gestured at my seat with a lack of words. Just how did it get so damn awkward?

"I'll see ya later okay?" James cut in. I think I saw Naomi's face fall. Probably. Maybe I was just seeing things. I dare not trust my judgment; I never can be quite sure with it comes to Naomi anymore.

"Sure." I returned with a warm smile.

.

.

"Naomi – Emily – could you please come to the front." Angie called out right after the class ended. "I mean, Emily, come over to Naomi's table."

This felt familiar. It was as though I was going back in reverse, a replay on my own life to my initial proper encounter with Naomi. Was there a possibility? Again?

I nervously made my way to the front, slowly and haltingly. Naomi sat bewildered as she turned her head to look at me. Her eyes travelled up the full length of my body. I don't know what to make of it but self-consciousness crept up to me. I turned into an awkward ambling creature, like I didn't know how to place my hands as I walked or whether I was walking gracefully enough or whether my hair was in place. It was like back to square one of first impressions and first dates although this was nothing like that. I did put a little effort into my outfit though, wearing my favourite skirt and cardigan, with a conscious awareness that Naomi liked this style and that there was a possibility of meeting her today.

Our gazes collided, through space and time, with brevity. She cleared her throat and turned away and I blushed. It's incidents like this that let me believe that there was still something more to both of us. It was only leading me on when the affections here are one-sided, like I was a stuntman willingly putting myself out there knowing I'd get hurt if I'm not careful.

"Emily, as you know, Naomi's just come back from a good rest and has two weeks of studies to catch up. Now I know you're a brilliant student, not that Naomi you're not," Angie smiled kindly at Naomi, "but I was hoping you could help Naomi catch up on what she's missed. Since you've helped her out before, I'm sure there will be no problem for you to do it again. Yes?"

"Oh fucking hell not again." Naomi exclaimed, scrunching her face up and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Well if Naomi wants…" I trailed off, feeling upset over Naomi's reaction. It hurts me to feel like I was causing her some form of misery when she was studying with me.

"It's settled," Angie stated more firmly to Naomi, "You're going to take your finals this year and you'll need all the help you can get from Emily which I remember you improving vastly with her help. Emily doesn't mind, do you dear?"

I shrugged and shook my head, hearing a scuffled grumble escape from Naomi's throat. I didn't dare to look at her; I was afraid to see her expression, the dread of being unwillingly thrown into this with me.

"Very well!" Angie seemed to be convinced from our unintelligible acknowledgement, "I'll leave you both to sort your schedules out." And with that, she left us to an empty classroom all by ourselves.

I turned to Naomi, "You don't have to – you know – um, do lessons with me. I'm sure someone else could do it with you – someone you're more comfortable with…" I mentally prepared myself for her to agree with that. I could understand if she chose someone because it's just become weird between us.

"Don't be silly – it's just…" She faltered, her eyes falling everywhere but mine. I waited for her to finish. I wanted to know what's really on her mind. There was something there I can't fathom, something perturbing her that I wished she'd tell me. "Nothing." She ended, her eyes betraying her words as they failed to portray 'nothing'. She took a breath; I sighed inwardly. "Well, best if I should start making my way to the next class," she abruptly changed the topic, "since I'll be pretty much the slowest person around here for a while." I noted a faint annoyance in her tone that was present in her attempt to sound perfectly fine.

Naomi hoisted herself up with her hands on the table, her right leg supporting all her weight. She slipped her bag pack on, which I noticed she had changed from a sling bag to it, and reached out and grabbed her crutches, propping herself right up.

"Need help with anything?" I wished I could just do something to make her feel better. I know this injury's a blow to her, being less mobile and needing to depend on people to get things done. This wouldn't sit well with the Naomi I know who's independent and capable. I wanted to help her in everyway I could even though it could possibly annoy her or make it obvious that she needed help.

"Nah, just open the door for me. Can't really do that with these."

She swung her crutches forward and made her way to the door, hopping forward with her right leg. Her left leg wasn't bandaged but there was an unsightly big purple bruise on the back of her thigh. I was shocked. I'd seen pictures of it in the Internet but seeing the bruise on Naomi still took me aback and reminded me how real this is. It was an unsightly mark on her slender and muscled leg and it pained me to see that it was hurting her.

"Yeah it's ugly as fuck isn't it?" She turned her head back at me. I realised I hadn't moved. Springing forward, I opened the door and held it. "With luck I'll get back my leg and get scarred for life." The bitter tone was there again.

I bit my lip, choosing my words carefully. "I'm sure your leg would be okay." I replied as reassuringly as I could, as optimistic as I could manage. I just had to convince myself, both of us, as much as I could.

"You don't know that." She said quietly, more to herself, hobbling past me. I had no answer to that.

"I'll see you tomorrow after school yeah?" I called after her as she made her way in the opposite direction from where I was supposed to go.

I heard a faint reply and a resemblance of a nod as Naomi went her way without so much of a backward glance, leaving me watching her walk away from me. The corridor was filled with noises of the footsteps of a couple of passing students and the clinking of Naomi's crutches as the rubble sole insulating the metal crutches connected with the floor. It was a new foreign sound, something I couldn't get used to, which has now become associated with Naomi.

I basked in the warm sun splaying across my face, the slight coolness of the air mingling with the rays. I took off my cardigan and kept it in my bag. The soft gust of wind trailing across my bare arms and fluttered carefree under my skirt. I leaned back on my hands and casually surveyed the mob of boys on the field, chasing after a football.

I'm sitting on a bench beside the football field, watching James and Freddie play football with the other boys. I'd been to a few of their after school games for the last couple of weeks watching them play ever since Naomi got warded and because watching the basketball team train without Naomi wasn't enticing, I accepted the invitation from James to "hang out" with them when they play football.

It takes my mind off things. Plus, it isn't that boring as most girls make football out to be. It's about the same as basketball I reckon, just more people chasing after a ball but having a lower frequency in points or goals scored. It was also a great opportunity to strengthen my friendship with the both of them and according to Katie, meet fit guys on that play with them.

Well I guess there are a handful of good-looking ones, easy on the eye, great eye candy material and really fit bodies with abs and muscles. Just really Katie's type.

Today, I was back on the benches but this time it was different. I had an hour to kill as I was waiting for Naomi to finish her afternoon class, then I'll start my tutoring session with her. This was our first session, two days after Angie propositioned to me to tutor Naomi. I guess I am nervous so I took to watching the boys play. I'm nervous because I'm going to be alone with Naomi, again, and I really wished I wasn't actually anxious about that but the last time went terribly wrong.

Every time I come close to Naomi, my stomach just flips itself inside out, like it's signaling to me the effect Naomi has on me. It's not an unpleasant feeling. You know the kind of feeling when you see someone you fancy and you get all timid and shy and you act like a dork but inside of you is like bursting with excitement. I thought I was past the stage of being shy around Naomi but it seems like I've reverted to the pre-Naomi me. I just don't know how to act like I don't like her when I'm around her. And it's hard. I hate that I can't be less transparent about it.

James jogged up to me and another boy took his place. I snapped my thoughts out of my head. What happened to taking my mind off things when I was here? I realise that when I'm with James, I'm occupied with his company that I don't think about Naomi. I reckon that's why I need to be around him.

"Taking a break?" I asked a very sweaty James. His hair was matted and his shirt drenched with perspiration.

He nodded, guzzling greedily on his water bottle and sat down. He pulled his shirt over his head revealing his muscled arms and a lean body with rock hard abs, and started to wipe himself with a towel. Nothing I haven't seen before. I'd watch him play before remember? Though the first time was slightly awkward on my part but I got used to it.

"Hot day." He toweled furiously, ruffling his hair violently with the towel making it all stick up oddly but in a boyish way. I giggled a little and reached over, soothing the hairs that stuck up. It was like this with James, I had gotten comfortable with him. He's fast becoming my closest male friend after JJ.

We sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the breeze, casually watching the game. It was also times like this that I wished I could have with Naomi. I really miss having her presence in my life.

"What?" I had noticed James throwing brief glances at me, looking as though he wanted to say something.

He shook his head and gave a little smile, looking away, like he was looking at nothing in particular that was far away.

Something was up. He looked a little uneasy and fidgety, swallowing nervously and pursing his lips. I couldn't figure out why he was behaving in this way but I knew better to not ask.

A gust of wind blew and I brushed my hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear as I crossed my legs, not encouraging the wind to lift my skirt up.

"What'd'ya consider as dating?"

That was random. I looked at him, judging him on whether he was serious. He was.

"I think – it's when – like a couple is together, then they're dating. Not like – just going on dates when they're not – you know, officially together."

That was my logic. It probably isn't the right one or considered rather stupid, but I guess I do have my own views on this. It's not dating to me when you "date" different people, trying out for the right one. To me that's just hanging out and eating out, enjoying the company of another. I haven't quite found the right word to coin that.

"Iwannadateyou."

"What?" I did a massive double take. It wasn't that I didn't hear what James said even though it was rolled out in a hurry but I couldn't quite believe what I'd heard. It wasn't that I needed to hear him repeat that to me.

"I want to date you, Emily." James repeated, slowly, enunciated, carefully, shyly but resolutely. He turned his head to look me in the eye, conveying to me that he had really meant what he said. We held eye contact for a few seconds before he dropped his head shyly and smiled to himself. I could feel myself blushing awkwardly as I let that information sink in. I was quite at a loss for words as I kept silent as the seconds chasing for a reply ticked by.

Maybe what I suspected a few weeks ago was true but it was something I had told myself to shut it out, dismiss, debate over possibilities and eventually render it false. It didn't seem even remotely possible James would have liked me, more than friends. At that time, I'd searched deep within myself, my emotions, and there's just something there, something there that's just not quite right. I would be flattered without a doubt, as I am now, as I'd never thought a boy would like me. That stuff only happens to Katie you know. But – there's this missing connection, that wrong jigsaw piece that's trying to fit itself in the wrong place, the kind of static that differentiates between a lover and the best friend. James was like the best friend that I loved but not quite how like I'd really love the one.

But then again I wasn't sure, I wasn't experienced, who knew this was part of the process of actually falling in love. It was different for everyone so I heard. Mine could just be this. I wasn't sure what it was with Naomi so I couldn't really count that as love.

I took a look at James, looking all hopeful and waiting for my reaction and reply. He was a good-looking lad, in fact he was rather charming and not really made out to be a playboy from what I heard. I was sure he would have not a problem in getting any girl he wants. Why me then?

I still didn't know how to reply him. My heart was beating frantically. I was torn between saying yes and betraying what I felt, and saying no and disappointing him. One thing's for sure, I've never dated a boy and James seemed like that only boy I'd be okay to try dating and maybe something good would come out of it, after all Naomi wasn't interested in me at all.

But I couldn't. As I tried to reply him, I realise I couldn't agree to him. Because this – crush – or thing with Naomi, was just still unsettled even though I'd convinced myself a million times that it had to end, it was still something to me. I wouldn't feel right if I said yes to James and know I didn't really mean it with him.

His hopeful expression fell a little after realising I was taking far too long for a reply.

"I'm sorry." I automatically said. I meant it. I felt like I was disappointing him in the way Naomi disappointed me.

"Why? Is there someone else?" He asked slowly, like he was gathering up his courage.

I shook my head uncertainly because there technically wasn't. There was nothing between Naomi and myself but it was then I realised the level of attraction wasn't in the same way when I was him as I was with Naomi.

"Is it Naomi?"

"No! Why'd you – that's just – No!" I exclaimed, in shock, stammering. Why would he think I liked Naomi? I mean yeah it was a little true, to a certain extent but how did he come to such a conclusion? Was I that obvious? Or what? I don't think I'd like James to have privy to that information about me fancying Naomi. Telling anyone else besides my circle of friends is like coming out to everyone. I'm not even sure I'm gay you know; I just like that one girl.

"Really?" He looked slightly unconvinced but didn't press on.

"You're my friend. My really, great, closest friend that I have now. And I really like you – but I'm sorry – it's just… " I didn't know how to end my sentence.

"Would you gimme a chance – to you know – go after you? As long as you're not taken, I won't back down." He asked hopefully again.

He was expectant. I didn't have the heart to reject him outright. Like I said, I wasn't even sure I didn't like him in that way given then lack of experience. Maybe he could be the one. After all, with my non-existent love life, what have I got to lose?

I shrugged and gave a tiny nod and his face broke into a smile. I gently cupped his face with the deftest of touches, leant over and gave him a tiny peck on the lips. It was all very friendly on my part but I had to know, if I had felt anything for him, a glimmer of something, anything that resembled a propensity to fall for him.

It was just that brief contact on that lips that lasted a bare second, a momentarily graze of lips. But that was enough. It felt nothing like how Naomi first kissed me in the shelter on my birthday even though that was just as brief. Not a surge of excitement ran through me, the kind I clearly remembered that tingled endlessly though my body and right down to my toes when Naomi kissed me. I didn't have the urge to kiss James properly, unlike how I fantasized about kissing Naomi again and again.

He had a grin on his face. This was bad, a wrong move. We couldn't be more than friends, something I'd be happy with that but will break his heart. I didn't want to break his heart, knowing that I couldn't return his affections; I definitely know that feeling of heartbreak. I didn't want to lead him on but I didn't know how to stop this from blowing up in my face.

Suddenly I heard metal clinking, the sound of slow, and heavily paced metal steps. And that sounded rather familiar.

I whipped my head around in a frantic movement and my eyes fell on Naomi a few feet away from me. She was slowly coming up from the ramp that leads from the school to the field and a scowl visibly present on her face.