Em & M[ complete ]

[01: Ixnay! Ixnay!]

Em & M
[01: Ixnay! Ixnay!]

You see that really cute girl over there? The one blonde whose face is plastered on a book?

Yeah?

Well, that's not me, if you were wondering.

That, my friends, is Emery Spades, the densest girl on the planet (or at least, the densest girl I've met). Clueless is to Emery just as basket is to ball. Or cheese is to macaroni.

You know what I mean?

Don't get me wrong; Emery was pretty smart (a straight A student), she just takes a rather long time to get hints when it came to important things like romantic gestures and such. That was actually the reason why I fell in love with Mark. Ever since Em and I became friends in freshman year (grade nine), I noticed that Mark had been trying to sweep the girl off her feet every time he had the chance to do so.

Emery, being the innocent, naïve girl she is, refused to see M's gestures as nothing more than friendly.

Now, let's all take a moment of silence to respect M's effort to woo Em just to end up being friend-zoned. Poor soldier.

Anyway, for three years, I've been watching the two threading in dangerous waters (in concern of their friendship, I mean). He never gave up and overtime, I realized that I've been slowly falling in love with Mark Garamond, and when I noticed it, it was all too late. I was in too deep.

Mark was perfect in every way. He was attractive, super funny, smart, sweet, romantic, and every other Prince Charming Quality a girl could dream of. With his brunet curls, pretty emerald eyes, and a smile that could make a straight man gay, you'd have to be insane to not develop a crush on the boy.

He could have had any girl in the damn school! More importantly, he could have had me. I just couldn't (and didn't) understand what he sees in Em.

Well, okay, maybe I did know what he sees in Emery: she was pretty without even trying, she told really hilarious jokes, she never bragged about her grades, and basically, she was just the sunshine in your rainy day—but that's not the point here, people. Why couldn't he just take a step back for a moment and see that I've always been here for him, waiting to realize that we were meant for each other?

Men, really. Must we spell things out for them?

Therefore, I decided that, seeing that this is our final year in River Side High, I would finally confess my love to Mark and seal our fate in stone. Once and for all.

If only I knew how without creating such a ruckus. Everyone (and by everyone, I mean, every-damn-one we know) expected to see the two of them live their life together. I mean, they had the whole fall-for-my-best-friend thing going on perfectly, and if I wasn't so in love with the boy, I'd probably cheer on them, too. How often will you see this kind of thing unfolding right within your very eyes?

It was quite rare, now that I think about it.

And here I was, planning on destroying such a wonderful fairytale.

In my defense, you couldn't really help who you fall in love with. It just so happened that I fell for Mark. And Mark fell for Emery. To quote one of my favourite songs: we are young, heartache to heartache we stand /no promises, no demands / love is a battlefield.

"Love is a battlefield, indeed," I muttered.

Em flicked her eyes off her book to me. "Avery," she whispered, closing her book. Oh, dear. She never stopped reading in a middle of a chapter unless she needed to discuss something trés importante. The last Emery did that was when some girls sitting near us during lunch in tenth grade was talking about Mark and how much of a D-bag he was (though, I assure you, Mark was far from being a D-bag; the boy was quite a gentleman) and Emery snapped at them.