This novel is dedicated to all those who supported me at Booksie.com and my best friend in the world, Miss Cunningham

Chapter 1

Miss Independent

I have to be honest. I never believed in dating. And, I mean, like never believed in it. I always saw it as an excuse to be around someone you liked but really wouldn’t die for. See, let’s think about this: people say that they would die for one another in a heartbeat. Now, if you really thought about it, most people would realize that they would hesitate. Really, most couples out there that say they’re in love, really aren’t. And for another thing, there is no such thing as “love at first sight”. It is nothing but an apt infatuation and fascination with the other person. This goes back to my point about the whole dying-for-one-another thing.

You would think that, considering how mutinous I am about love and men in general, I would, therefore, be the last person to go to when you want sympathy towards guys—especially when they’ve cheated on you. Well, this just goes to show how my best friend, Maddi Beckworth, can be somewhat delusional and have way too much confidence in me.

“I was standing there for, like, five minutes!” Maddi cried hysterically, flinging her hands around for emphasis. “And do you know who he was making out with, with me standing right there, I might add?”

I sighed. I already had a shrewd idea about the answer. In my high school, there are two major sluts: Mindy Clemingstien and Brittany Williams. (There’s always a Brittany, isn’t there?) And it’s my belief that they’re competing to see which one can screw the most guys first. Brittany, as far as I’m concerned, has to make-out with only two more guys in our school in order to win. But as to the answer to Maddi’s exclamation, I was leaning more towards Mindy because the two of them used to date before they broken and he (Blake Kirkland) moved onto Maddi, who I warned that he was a scumbag.

Just for the record, I told Maddi that this would happen. I had this knack for knowing which guys were trustworthy and which weren’t. I told Maddi right off that Blake was the last person to be known as a good boyfriend, but she went out with the jackass anyway. So really, I wasn’t planning on being sympathetic to Maddi at all. She deserved someone a hell of a lot better than Blake and I hated to watch her go off with other guys, totally convinced that they were the one for her when they would dump her in a heartbeat.

“I told you that he’d spend his spare time, not with you, but sucking off other girls’ faces.” I said, blunt as ever. Like I said, I wasn’t going to feel any sympathy towards her when she should have known better in the first place. It’s like she wants to get hurt over and over again and it would make you think that she would know the signs of knowing about the trustworthiness of guys.

“Jess!” Maddi cried, her deep blue eyes widening with shock and hurt. “Spare me your pessimism for once!” Then her shoulders slumped a little bit and her slightly curly and wavy blond hair fell forward, and she said in a quieter and much more defeated tone, “I really liked him.”

“No, you didn’t, Maddi,” I said, giving her a hard look. “The bastard didn’t deserve you anyway and besides, I told you that he was no-good and since when do you ever listen to me but when have I ever been wrong?”

Maddi gave a great sigh and put her elbows on the shiny stone counter, her eyes downcast, and her hair covering her face. I knew Maddi better than anyone, having known her for more than half of my lifetime and to others, you would guess that she was completely heart-broken, but I knew full well that she was really blaming herself for getting hurt. Despite all my attempts to not give sympathy, I ended up going over and standing across from her, leaning on the counter as well.

“Maddi,” I said bracingly, not wanting to sound too soft because it was, after all, her fault that she didn’t trust my instincts enough. “When are you going to start listening to me?”

She didn’t answer immediately and after a few many seconds of silence, I was tempted to tickle her to get her to talk but before I could, she whispered, “I just really want a good guy, you know?”

“No, I don’t, but I’ll go along with you,” I said, adding a tinge of mirth to my words. I couldn’t stand Maddi this way, after she had a breakup with one of her many so-called boyfriends. I didn’t understand why anyone would want a guy so badly when all of them turned out to be jerks anyway. But I wanted her to laugh and be her normal, overly cheerful Maddi.

Maddi’s face didn’t change. She still played with her fingers and didn’t look up as she said, “I’ve wanted a guy for so long.” Her voice was almost a moan. “I’ve never had a solid boyfriend and I really want to kiss a decent guy who likes me for me and not for my body.”

“We all want that, Maddi,” I said, a little too sharply. I softened my tone. “No girl would turn away a really sweet guy but believe me when I say, they are rare and far between. You know—“ I tapped my temple, which forced her to look up at me “—I have the sense for knowing guys and a sweet guy hasn’t turned up on my internal radar in a l-o-n-g time.”

Maddi smiled and I felt a kind of relief. I always felt responsible for putting Maddi into this mood because I never actively stopped Maddi from dating losers. I told her firmly that I was strongly against them but she never listened and I knew from many experiences that once Maddi was fixed on something, she wasn’t going to sway away from it easily.

Maddi perked up a little bit. She took a deep breath, smiled a bit, and propped her chin on her hands, her abnormally huge blue eyes observing me. I was used to this as well but even to this day, I could never decipher what she was thinking when she had that expression on her face. But usually, whatever she was thinking never bode well for me.

After a particularly long time of basically having a staring contest, she said, her eyes narrowing deviously, “I’m going to prove you wrong.”

“Excuse me?” I said slowly, sensing that something big was coming. Remember what I just said about how Maddi is impossible to sway once she’s got her mind set on something? Yeah, that became a problem for me most times, especially when she gets going on—

“I’m going to prove you wrong about men,” she said, sliding off of her stool and getting to her feet, slinging her purse onto her elbow with a practiced air. “I am going to get you a great guy and finally force you to take your foot out of your mouth.”

I felt a great sense of dread. “Maddi!” I moaned, walking around the counter and following Maddi as she walked through the living room and towards the front door. As she opened the door, going God only knows where, I made sure that I had my wallet and keys. If she were going to go on another one of her many trips to find me a guy (this was not totally unexpected since Maddi has done this to me more than once in the past) then I would have to be prepared for anything.

And we ended up in the place where I knew we would: the Concord Mills Mall. I expected her to go to the much bigger mall that wasn’t too far from where I lived but she drove me out to Concord Mills instead. Why was beyond me. I hated the mall with my entire existence. Personally, I thought of it as a “watering hole” for dinky blonds. Maddi, of course, only fit into the blond category. She was, in no way, defenseless or clueless like almost all blonds are classified as.

She dragged me into Claire’s and stated that we were not going to leave until I bought something halfway feminine, which was next to impossible in this store. I pointed this out, that there was nothing “halfway feminine” in Claire’s but she ignored me and plowed over to the back of the store. I lingered by the clearance rack myself even though I was determined not to buy anything; I was always on the lookout for a cell phone holder.

“Look at these, Jess,” Maddi said, her voice enthusiastic but firm. She brought over a pair of dangling earrings that I wouldn’t be caught dead in. I looked at her skeptically and she looked back at me, completely stubborn. She actually put them up against my ear to see how they would look. “You can wear them to the dance.”

I wanted to let out a frustrated roar. The dance that she was referring to was the winter dance at our high school. It was the dance of the year but why the hell the morons held it in October rather than December was beyond me. Of course, in North Carolina, it started to get cold in October and would therefore have the “Christmas-y” feel to it but really, why are they trying to fool themselves?

Now, you would think that if I was so against having a boyfriend, I would therefore be totally against dances and you would be right: I am. As I have been telling Maddi from the fifth grade: I am not going to my senior prom or anything of the sorts unless the situation demands it and maybe not even then. This, of course, made her all the more determined to get me to go. She even went with the argument that she would be scared to go without me but we both knew that that was definitely not true.

Now here’s the real question: why the hell did Maddi want to buy me things for the dance if I was not going? Like I said, she was completely delusional.

“Maddi,” I said between my teeth, my whole body rigid. My hands were still clutching a ceramic frog cell phone holder. “For the last damn time, I am not going to the winter dance.”

“Says the girl who think the color pink is the color of the Fashion Devil.” Maddi retorted, holding up a pair of gold earrings to my ears.

“It is,” I grumbled. “You can tell if anyone is a girly-girl if they say their favorite color is pink.” I was very firm to make this point.

“I saw you wearing pink a couple of days ago,” Maddi pointed out.

“It was maroon!” I cried, a point that I had made several times already. “God!”

“Which is a shade of pink,” Maddi said smugly.

I rolled my eyes and then slapped Maddi’s hands away as she was now holding necklaces up to my neck. “I am not going, Maddi,” I said firmly, now wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. If it meant walking home, I would gladly take that over staying here with Maddi while she tried to get me to willing go to the dance. Ha! Not happening.

Maddi gave an exasperated sigh and huffed back to put the earrings away while I made my way to the front of the store. There was nothing that Maddi said or did that would convince me to go to the dance. I had way many better things to do with my evenings then to waste my brain away at a damn dance.

“Come on,” Maddi said tersely, still frustrated, striding right past me and in the direction of the food court. “I’ll buy you a snack.”

As we walked, I realized that Maddi was checking out every single guy that passed us. There weren’t that many that were our age but if there was one, her hawk’s eyes were on him and glancing him over. I studiously ignored her and kept my thoughts focused on that ice cream stand in the food court. I was definitely not interested in scouting out boys.

As we reached the ice cream stand at the end of the food court and waited to order—Maddi’s attention turned to her order instead of on guys—she sighed deeply. I looked over at her, my eyebrows raised and I saw that she had a sort of sad yet thoughtful look on her face.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. She looked over at me. “About a guy for you, I mean.”

I moaned.

She plowed on as though I hadn’t expressed my dislike for this particular subject. “I already know that an exceptional guy is need for someone like you and the only person I can think of who is worthy of such a wonderful girl like yourself is--,” she was cut off by the lady behind the counter, who cried, “Next!”

I was glad for the distraction and ordered with enthusiasm. I saw Maddi look at me and I knew that she knew that I was glad for a change of subject. To her, I was an open book and sometimes that was frustrating but other times, really useful. The only drawback with Maddi is that, even if she knows full well that I’m uncomfortable or aggravated with a certain conversation, she’ll still go on. See? Frustrating.

We looked for seats in the crowded cafeteria and then, as we found two open seats and sat down, Maddi picked up exactly where she left off.

“The only person worthy of you is--,”

“Maddi,” I warned, afraid of what was going to come out of her mouth. I had another feeling that I knew who she was going to say, or a few other possibilities of who she was thinking about but I wasn’t really into hearing them. I did not want to have this conversation again.

“Let me finish, for God’s sake, Jess!” Maddi demanded, looking sharp before returning to that faraway look. “You deserve a good guy and I think that Michael Hills is the perfect choice.”

I honestly regretted taking a spoonful of ice cream because it was halfway down my throat when Maddi said whom she thought I was destined for. I choked, rather dramatically in my opinion, and spluttered. Michael Hills was, without a doubt, the most popular guy in my school. And if not the most popular, the most good looking. Really, it was like I had been placed into one of the most classic high schools that were shown in all the movies and Michael was the school’s heartthrob. My personal version of Hell, to be honest.

Michael Hills was also one of the only guys that neither Brittany Williams nor Mindy Clemingstien has been able to get their hands on. I did not know the reason for this but I guessed that it was because of Michael himself. Of course, in my mind, that made no sense whatsoever. I had no idea what Michael was about because I had never actually met the dude but everyone in my school has heard of him. 

So, for Maddi to think that Michael Hills was meant for me was truly and utterly absurd. I was still spluttering while Maddi looked on, rolling her eyes at my apparent dramatics. I stared at her through watering eyes. “Maddi, are you crazy?” I stuttered. “Michael Hills and I? You wish.”

“Regardless,” Maddi sniffed, folding her arms firmly and staring at me. “You cannot run from love.”

“I do not love Michael Hills,” I said, nearly throwing up at the thought. I’ve never been in love with a guy before and I don’t plan to any time soon. I mean, really, it would take one hell of a guy to put up with me in the first place but I mean, to actually impress me was another. How the hell was Maddi going off saying that I was in love with Michael Hills when I’ve never even formally met the guy before? I mean, really, what is her problem these days? The last person in the world that I would ever be matched up with is Michael Hills. 

“I didn’t say that you did,” Maddi said hotly. “But that’s not the point. The point is that you’re going to fall in love sooner or later and, because of me, it will be sooner.”

“You can’t force love on me!” I cried, indignant. You can’t force someone to love another person, right? I mean, what the hell was Maddi planning to do? As far as I knew (and I knew quite a lot about Maddi), Maddi has never met Michael either so I had no clue how she was going to pull off getting Michael and I together. And besides, true love isn’t a one-way connection. He may fall in love with me (God only knows why he would) but I would have to love him back. I mean, really, what is Maddi trying to accomplish?

Maddi, however, seemed to be thinking the exact opposite of my thoughts. “Watch me!” she snapped. “And I have a perfect opportunity to get you two together. You are going to go to the winter dance with Michael.”

Again, my stomach churned. You have to know that I have a really tough stomach. Even watching someone else throw up wouldn’t trigger anything from me except a grimace and a plugged nose. But the thought of going to the winter dance with Michael Hills, of all people, made me want to find the nearest trashcan.

“I’d love to see that,” I muttered. “I have no idea how you’re going to get me to go with him when one, I’ve never even met the dude, and two, even if I did meet him, he wouldn’t automatically fall for me!”

“You don’t believe in anything!” Maddi cried hysterically, flinging her arms into the air. She looked down at me again. “Can’t you at least try to give one damn guy a chance?”

“Maddi, if you want to go to this dance with a date alongside you so much, why don’t you ask Michael to go with you?” I countered, trying to drive this subject away from me and the possibility that Michael and I might, someday, become a couple. Blech!

“Because I don’t deserve a guy like Michael and besides, he’s exactly the kind of guy that you need!” she said, her eyes wide. “I’m sick of seeing you sulk around with nothing to do on weekends while I have dates and go to movies and stuff. I want you out there too.”

“Forget it, Maddi,” I said, picking up my spoon and digging into my ice cream again so that I had an excuse not to talk. 

She sat back in her seat and sighed and for one glorious moment, I thought that she was going to drop it. 

Silly me.

She fixed me with a hard glare that almost made me stare back in shock. It was rare that Maddi glared with such force at people and I found myself uncomfortable since I was now one of them. What she said next was with finality and dedication and I knew that I wasn’t going to get out of anything. “You…are…going…to…that…dance…with…Michael…Hills…” she said, enunciating each word with care as though the force of her words would make me do her will.

I almost agreed but I held back. Instead, I really thought about what it would be like to have a date for once. Believe you me, I was not softening towards the idea but I simply allowed myself to picture what it would be like. I didn’t really fill in Michael’s face since I hadn’t seen him enough but I let my imagination picture what type of dress I would wear and what Michael and I might talk about on our way to the dance…whoa! Crap, I’ve gotta stop right now.

I took a deep breath. “No,” I said firmly, determined more than anything to not sway under any circumstances.

“Yes,” Maddi said, just as firm and just as stubborn. 

“Nope,”

“Yes,”

“Not happening,”

“You’re going with him,”

“I don’t think so,”

Hold on just a little longer, I though to myself. She’ll give up eventually.

“Yes you are,”

“No, Maddi,”

“Yes,”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“FINE! I’ll ask him, damn it!”