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DUFF writing contest.

Monday 10:00 a.m

Meet me. I'm a non-socialite in a group of drinking, blistering bumbling baboons that I call friends. Hey but you gotta love them right? When you're a nerd in a group of populars, you gotta thank god for every single accomplishment that happens to you. Like the other day, in the very hallways of Eastwater High School, the schools most popular and utterly delectable jock high fives me. In the hallway. Wow. If that isn't a miracle then I don't know what is.

I suppose miracles are supposed to be a part of my every day life, seeing as my parents named me Miracle Anne _____. The space is there because I don't know my last name. My parents left on the front steps of an orphanage. I don't get why, because I'm not an orphan. I'm a foster kid.

"Miri!" My friend Lily calls out to me. She's another utterly gorgeous specimen of the human species. Blue eyes, blonde hair, 5'7 and extremely athletic. "Are you listening?" She enquires. "Due to my impeccable candidness," I say "I am going to answer no." "Well," She continues "There's a party at Deans house on Friday night and he has told me personally that you are cordially invited." As my my insides were screaming and jumping for utter joy, the remarkable response that decided to make its way out of my mouth was: "Cool." Dean Hamilton has been my long time - and extremely annoying - crush since fourth grade. The only problem that makes matters worse is that Dean is currently dating Lily. I also am unfortunately 'involved' in Ryan Winchester, Deans best friend. Problems of being an anti-social senior. At least I'm not a basket hoop like Norah Levi. *que Norah* "I'm my own best friend!"

In this school only one single thing matters to determine your place on the social hierarchy: labels. Okay so you got your basic labels that have been used for generations: basket hoops; nerds; sluts; populars; jocks; troublemakers; anti-socialites; band geeks; fangirls, the list could go on and on.

I used to be a band geek/nerd, but during a fight with Amelia Carstairs, Lily Shang stood up for me. Lily and I became friends and it all led up to here I guess.

********

Saturday 8:30 p.m

The days flew by, and before I knew it, it was Dean's party. I went in my usual attire: skater skirt, band T-shirt - this time a Beatles limited edition- and a beanie with high tops.

Lily and David - another friend - picked me up at twelve past eight and got to Dean's house by half-eight. We entered his house and straight away I pulled into a kiss by none other than Ryan. Don't get me wrong, I love a good kiss but Ryan was a terrible kisser. He was all tongue and no lips. He held me as if I was fragile, but I want him to hold me as if he knows I can't break.

I pulled away and asked him a one word question: "punch?" "Sure," I walked over to the punch bowl, which was obviously spiked with vodka and maybe liquid meth. Don't ask, it's happened before. All of a sudden the Adonis that I call a friend walks up to me and casually leans on the table. "Hey Dean." I say, not looking him in the eye. "Ah, there's my best DUFF." "DUFF? What does that mean?" I say demanding more. "Designated Ugly Fat Friend" I then called him a word that is commonly known as a female, pregnant dog. I then poured punch all over him and stomped off towards upstairs to find a room that people weren't a) making out, b) having sex or c) cheating on me. Unfortunately it was C. I walked in a room that was supposed to be unoccupied but instead found Ryan on top of Lily, both naked. Am I really a DUFF? So much that people don't care about me enough to cheat on me with my best friend? I decided to call Dean, because no matter what he said to me, he still deserves to know what is happening in his own house. So I left, unknown to the two people having sexual intercourse I Dean's bedroom.

As I walked down the stairs I immediately started looking for Dean. After twenty minutes of searching, I needed to go to the bathroom, so I found one and opened the door. Inside I found a crying Dean with tear stained eyes and a blotchy face sitting in the corner of the huge bathroom. As soon as I opened the door Dean looked at me with eyes full of regret, walks up to me as quick as The Flash and pulls my to his. "Please forgive me Ickle" he whispered, using his childhood name for me. "I didn't mean it I swear, I just thought that girls like bad boys, I've liked you since third grade and I've been trying to impress you. Please, you have to forgive me" and without giving me time to even think, he is already pressing his lips to mine and holding me tightly, never wanting to let go. And it was urgent, passionate and amazing. His lips fit perfectly with mine and we moved in perfect harmony. "Yes!" I moan in between moans, "I forgive you!" Without realizing it, his hips were rolling against mine. For a perfect second I forgot about Lily and Ryan. But then that second was over and I pulled away.

"You might want to see this." As we put ourselves together and tried to fix our hair and lips we walked up the stairs and entered his room. As soon as he saw the predicament, his eyes went stone cold and cleared his throat, making mine and his presence clear. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

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