How I "Accidentally" Stole My Bestfriend's Boyfriend

Dedicated to

Kailey Hoffman

I will never forget you.

I love you.

I'm still crying for you

~KLJ~

~.~.~.~.~.~.

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE!

SO, THIS IS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT FICTION. I'M LITERALLY COMING UP WITH THIS ON THE TOP OF MY HEAD. I HAVE NO CLUE WHETHER OR NOT THIS SYSTEM IS FULLY EFFECTIVE. SO, IF YOU TRY THIS, TELL ME. I WANT TO SEE IF THIS WORKS OR NOT.

don't do it on your best-friend though. Do it with like, someone you hate, so it'll be more fun

~KJ

p.s. Just kidding

Step 1 - Get him alone with you, on what I'd like to call...a stalker date? Only you know it's happening.

According to the dictionary, the definition of lust is a very strong sexual desire for someone. The definition of love is an intense feeling of deep affection.

The difference?

I didn't lust after Clayton Wendt. I love him. There was only one slight problem. My best friend, Kathryn Suzanne was going out with him. She was in it for lust, while I only wanted love. Clayton must've thought the whole 'lust' thing was a pretty good deal, because the two have stuck it out since eighth grade, where petty old me - who could not date until she turned sixteen - was only hidden in the shadows. I've had a crush on Clayton since seventh grade, and Kathryn knew it, too. She told me when they first started going out, that she would get him attracted to me.

After she told me that her and Clayton 'accidentally' had sex in her bedroom in the tenth grade, It kinda blew the whole 'I'm making him attracted to you' gig Kathryn was playing. And now, I'm positive Kathryn won't be the slightest worries when she figures out that I'm going for her guy - one tiny play at a time. Of course, I'll make it look like an accident. It won't be too hard. I can't say I haven't done it before. Okay, may once. Twice? Three times. Four tops.

I get what I want, okay?

Besides, Kathryn Suzanne is easily jealous. All it takes is a little comment here and their, and she'll be as green as the wicked witch of the west

"Oh, Kathryn, at the party, your boyfriend kissed me!"

"Oh, Kathryn, he accidentally gave me a hug before he left!"

"Kathryn! We had sex. It was accidental, of course."

"KATHRYN! TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND TO STOP FLIRTING WITH ME!"

Here's the thing. When a girl wants a boy, she usually hides in the corner, hoping he'll notice her. Here is the news, ladies. you need to GET OUT THERE and make a move. What you want - go get it. And don't hire someone to do it. They'll end up getting the guy, and you'll once again be on the sidelines, waiting for the second choice. Don't accept that face. Move your friend out of the way and get into the picture yourself.

CHEESE!

I'm a good person - promise. It's just that sometimes, my motives are a little of the way. I won't harm anyone - not physically...mentally, however is game on.

So, prepare yourself Kathryn Suzanne. For this is how I accidentally stole my best-friends boyfriend.

~.~.~.~.

Emilie: hey grrl

Kathryn: hey:)

Emilie: whats up?

Kathryn: nothing really you?

Emilie: watching a movie

Kathryn: wht one?

Emilie: if i stay

Kathryn: can I come ovr? luv that movie

Emilie: sure:) glad to have you. but leave the boy home, please? thnx

Kathryn: def will. ur welcome - see ya there ;)

I sigh and put my phone back into my grey yoga pants. I open up a light blue spiral notebook beside me and grab a pen.

HOW TO GET YOUR BFF's BOYFRIEND:

Rule #1 - Keep your friends close - their boyfriends closer

I click the pen cap back on, and put my knees to my chest. I could hear the tiny pops of popcorn kernels experiencing the reaction of what happens when you mix seeds with heat. I cover myself with a dark maroon afghan and I let the continuous cello music play in the background. The screen to start the movie was on, but I was following Rule number one and waiting for Kathryn to show up. She wasn't bringing Clayton, so part one of my plan could go into action.

What was part one, you might ask?

To get Clayton alone, of course. And Kathryn sound asleep, for many, many hours.

No, I'm not going to kill her. But a dose of sleeping pills I keep on my dresser for insomnia reasons should knock her out for about a day, which is what I need.

After all, you can't have your friend in the way to steal a boyfriend, can you?

The answer to that folks, is a solid 'NO'.

ding-dong

"I'm Hee-REE!" A high-pitch voice calls from the front porch. I stand up, and slide across the wood floor.

"Hey," I open up the door and greet Kathryn with a wide-tooth smile.

"Hola!" She calls back, and we scuttle back to the couch, where I bring the popcorn in a big bowl and we dig in.

"You know," Kathryn said between munches, "You really need to get some fat on this," she says, gesturing to my entire body.

I laugh, and the playful behavior continues until the credits and previews of the movie end and the opening scene is introduced.

~.~.~.~.

After about two hours worth of tears staining my face, the credits roll past. I sniff, then look over to Kathryn, who looks drowsy.

"You tired?" I ask, a smile touching the ends of my lips.

"A little," She nods, then sips her raspberry lemonade.

She obviously couldn't taste the pills, and with-in seconds she was asleep, a line of drool glistening on her face.

I grab her phone, and look for Clayton's contact.

Rule #2 - Pretend you're the girlfriend inviting him over.

Once I find it, I shoot him a quick text - off of Kathryn's phone.

Kathryn [Emilie]: U should cme ovr to Emilie's house.

Clayton: mmkay when?

Kathryn [Emilie]: Now. :)

Clayton: On my way.

I smile, then prop my legs up on Kathryn Suzanne's back. This was going to be a fun day. I plug my headphones into my Samsung and wait for Clayton's convertible to roll up my driveway.

I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson's Because of You when a car honk outside signals to me that Clayton is finally here. I wait by the front door, and it takes - what seems like forever - for him to walk up the mini sidewalk to get to our front porch.

DING- DONG!

I open the door suddenly - and regret it instantly.

Rule #4726 of GETTING A BOYFRIEND - DON'T BE SUDDEN WITH OPENING THE DOOR! It makes it look like you were expecting him.

But Clayton acts like it happens all the time.

"Hey."

"Hi!" I greet him cheerfully, with a small wave.

Idiot! He knows where he is! You don't need to wave to him.

"I, uhh..." He runs his fingers through his hair "Got a text from Kathryn Suzanne asking me to come over."

"Yeah, I know." I respond "But she fell asleep, and I can't wake her up." I shrug my shoulders, hoping he'll get the memo to forget about it.

"Oh, well, then, uhh, I'll just get going then..." He points to his car.

I shake my head furiously. "Nah, we can hang out." I add suddenly "If you want, I mean you don't have to or anything."

"Okay," He replies, and I swear, on the inside I'm jumping all over the place, but on the outside, I smile shyly. "Where do you wanna go?"

"How about the movies?" I suggest, and pull out my phone to show him whats playing.

"Let's go see The Dark Knight?" He says, and we get into his car without another word. I turn on the radio, but only boring talk shows are on.

"So...uhh...what's up?" I say, trying to get a conversation rolling.

Rule #3 - Make small talk. Have him get to know you. Compare yourself to the girlfriend, make yourself stand out.

"Pretty good," He says, and the silence engulfs us once more. I don't talk again until we make it to the movie theater. We both buy our own tickets and food. I pull out my phone and snap a picture of myself and upload it to Facebook.

Hanging out @ the movie theater w/ Clayton Wendt! - with Clayton Wendt

I insert the picture and click okay.

"What the heck was that?"

"Nothing, just updating my status" I reply nonchalantly.

"And if Kathryn figures out?"

"Relax. You're hanging out with a friend. She'll understand." I smile sweetly, and we enter the area. The only seats available are in the back, smashed into a corner.

I sigh, and we retreat to the back left of the theater.

Rule #4 - Make him interested into you. Pull some moves.

I start to shiver uncontrollably. Luckily, Clayton was wearing a sweatshirt.

"Oh my gosh, I'm freezing." I whisper, hoping he'll hear it and give me his sweatshirt, which I will accidentally-on-purpose forget to return and wear it when Kathryn comes over again.

"Want my sweatshirt?" He asks, and starts to take it off. I slip it over my slim body, it size taking me over. Clayton wasn't fat in anyway possible, just tall and very, very muscular. Compared to my tiny five foot four frame, he was Godzilla.

"Thanks," I smile up at him.

He nods curtly, and the movie starts playing. I've never been a big fan of Batman, or Marvel in particular, but I watch anyway. Well, not really watch, but zone out.

But I do notice when Clayton starts to put his arm up. He itches the back of his scalp, and I watch, ever so intently, as he lowers his arm, onto my back.

I smile, then snuggle up against him. He has no idea - or maybe he does - on what is exactly happening.

Step one of stealing a boyfriend, complete.

I think of this moment on the whole ride home. Clayton, once he realized what he did, apologized and so did I, because we thought we were with our abridged boyfriends/girlfriends and didn't talk the rest of the time.

Which is okay, I guess. There are always small step-backs in an evil villianess plans. It never stopped them - even though the protagonist usually did.

Looks like I'm the exception to the Disney princess rule.

Not every princess gets her perfect prince.

Let the evil villian have her happy ending.

For once.

"I'm HOOMMEE!" I call out to an empty house. Kathryn isn't here anymore. She must have went home when she woke up. Whatever. I pull up my phone and see that I've already gotten a ton of comments on my status

allison peterson: ohh go get 'em girl!

johnny c.: don't be a hoe, em.

kathryn suzanne: WTH ARE YOU DOIN' W/ CLAYTON you perv! He's mine.

clayton wendt: guys, chill, it was just for fun.

emilie olson: except for the fact that you put your arm around me ;)

I did keep his sweatshirt, and I'm not exactly sure he knows yet.

"Emilie?" I look to see who it is, and I see Aaron - my little brother- coming down the stairs. "Are mom and dad back yet?"

"No, they aren't going to be back until tomorrow," I sigh, and put my arm around him. "It'll be okay, big sister Emilie is here with funny stories."

"Can you tell me one?" He asks sleepily, and I nod. We walk upstairs to his bedroom, and I turn on his nightlight.

"I don't see that thumb in your mouth, okay?" I ask, and he pulls it out with a popping noise.

I pull out his favorite book - Frindle by Andrew Clements.

"Can I make up a word?" He asks, as I go to the last chapter of the book.

"What's it going to be?"

Aaron doesn't answer, because he's fast asleep, his thump stuck in his mouth once more.

I smile, ruffle his hair and go to my room. I pull out a dry-erase marker, and mark an 'X' on my board.

Emilie's To-Do list:

[X] Accomplish Step 1 of Boyfriend Stealing

I smile once more, get into a t-shirt and yoga pants, and climb into bed.

Why can't villains get their happy endings?

3:Step Two

Step 2: Get his phone number and constantly keep up a conversation - no time to waste between the transitioning stage of girlfriends.

Is there just one particular thing you hate to see couples doing? Like, I don't know, MAKING OUT IN FRONT OF YOUR LOCKER? Don't people have any decency to realize - HEY. THAT'S NOT YOUR LOCKER DOUCHEBAG. MAKE OUT AT ANOTHER PERSONS LOCKER.

Sorry, venting moment.

Or, the whole hugging thing? Okay, see you in like forty two minutes. Oh my gosh, I'm gonna miss you so much! Your gonna see your 'loved one' in LESS THAN AN HOUR. Geez, people, chill a little.

I understand it's a relationship. But can't you act, I don't know...normal?

Especially the girls. They all go cuckoo, I swear to God.

Checking their I-Phones every frickin' second to see if their boyfriend texted.

Dressing like a hoe to make sure their loved ones check them out.

One friend comes to mind when I'm making up this list. I'm not going to say their name - I'm not totally wicked...

Maybe.

No, it isn't Kathryn Suzanne. She's somewhat decent about spending equal amounts of times between boyfriend and best friend.

But there are those people...

'Oh! Yeah, I'll be right back, just want to say 'Hi' to Justin. They flounce away, and surprise, surprise, they never come back. Sure, they'll make up excuses, but face it ladies. Once she's there, she ain't coming back.

"Oh! I'm sorry, time just flew by. We went from 'Hi' to his aunt who just had a baby to a cross country meet coming up that I might be going to...hey aren't you in cross country?"

and most people would be like

"Eh. Whatever."

But, luckily, I'm different.

I would walk up to your face. Be like "Hey, you're coming back, aren't you?" Then, I'd see they weren't coming back, and I'd slap them.

I've done that multiple times, to no avail.

And that, is why The Boyfriend-Steal Project HAS to work. Because otherwise, I'll be all alone. Kathryn Suzanne will have her boy, Marissa Good will have her boy (hint, hint), and well.

I'll be here.

Single and the new cat lady.

I don't want to be a cat lady.

~.~.~.

"WAKE UP! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!" A shrill voice pierces through my ear. I groggily sit up, feeling the effects of staying up until one in the mornings.

"I'm up, I'm up!" I say, then pull down my pants and throw on skinny jeans.

"Why are you still in here? Get out!" I scream to Natalie, my fifteen-year-old sister who has the maturity of a seven year old.

She scurries away, and I change my bra. Since I'm in cross country (yes, that is true), I put on my blue sports bra and throw on a random t-shirt. I look down to see it's inside out and backwards. I groan and take it off, turning it right-side-out and on forwards.

There, I look decent - for a Saturday - and for practice.

Sectionals is coming up, and I'm in the bottom of the top eight. Only seven get to run, the eighth is an alternate. Guess who number seven is?

No, Kathryn Goodman isn't in cross.

Marissa Good is not...nor will ever be in a sport.

You're not going to get it, so I'll tell you. Her name is Juliana Stewart, and we used to be as tight as the yarn on a scarf. Then, the scarf ripped and so did we. Juliana and I used to have the same crush on a guy, and the guy chose me over Jules.

I mean, I'm sexy, why wouldn't he? But, ever since, Juliana and I haven't spoken a word. And now I have to beat her in order to participate in sectionals.

Do I need any more reasons for the girl to hate me?

I didn't think so.

In the last race, (which was a five kilometer race) Jules beat me by three seconds. My time was 21:18, and hers was 21:15. I was exactly right behind her, and I could hear her breathing, deep breaths meaning she was done. If I had kicked a little harder I swear I could've beat her.

~.~.~.~.~.

A blaring honk shakes me out of my thoughts as I pull my three-quarters up. I slip on my already tied sneakers and run out the door, waving to the driver of the red suburban. I slip into the door and glance at the driver.

"Oh. Hey, James," I say awkwardly.

I'm not the best girl, okay. We're just going to put it short and snappy. James and I had sex when I was fifteen and he was seventeen. Now, I was seventeen and he was nineteen (James started school a year late). It was protected, I mean he wore a condom and everything. I didn't get pregnant, but shortly after -a week, to be exact- I broke us off. We still weren't the best with friendship and everything but whatever, right?

"Hey." James utters, and backs out of the driveway.

After ten minutes of silence, we pull into the parking lot of the high school. Most of the team is already gathered by the door, waiting for a coach to get here. It's a varsity only practice, and fourteen people were here. All but one of the girls were here: Valerie, but she had a doctors appointment, so it was excused. Val was our number two runner, in-front of her was Emma Gwidt, who already lettered and won state. twice. This was her senior year, and she was downtrodden about it. All of the guys were here, but one as well. I glance around to try and pick him out.

After about thirty seconds, I figure out who it was supposed to be, and smoke bellows out of my ears. I borrow Elina's phone, and text Clayton.

Emilie: where are you, Clayton! Practice is gonna start soon.

Clayton: on my way, kathryn wanted to talk for a min.

I roll my eyes and stick my phone back into the locker. I glance at the number [#174] and the palm of my hand, which has the combination for it. 12-45-13.

Rule #5 - Be strong, don't look like a wimp. Guys like a strong, courageous girl. No one wants a weak, limp spaghetti noodle.

"How many miles today?" Melinda (number four runner) paces around the little walkway.

"Not sure," William-Billy- replies, then looks at his watch. "It's 10:15 and none of the coaches are here," He says, with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Anybody have his number?" A gruff, masculine voice asks, and everyone turns to see who it is.

"Clayton!" A random guy shout out, and he greets him with a nod.

"I do!" I lie, and grab my phone. I'll text him.

"Idiot," Juliana hisses, and grabs her pocketed phone. "He shouldn't text and drive - don't ya know that?"

I roll my eyes, but let her call the coach. She shuts it, and looks around. "He isn't coming. Sick as a dog. Says we can either run ourselves or go home."

"Wanna go to Lunde?" I ask, and everybody nods.

Our number one runner Greg looks at his phone, then dictates what each group will do. "Group one - you'll do four by one thousand, and then two by four hundred. Group two - three by twelve hundred, and three by six hundred. Group three - four by sixteen hundred and two by five hundred. Group four - six by six hundred and eight by two hundred. Let's go!" And everybody starts to warm-up.

I calculate the distances in my head. Group one is doing 4800 meters, plus two 1600's (warm-up run and cool-down jog), so they'll be doing about eight thousand meters. Group two is doing eight thousand meters as well. Group three is doing ten thousand six hundred meters, and group four is doing eight thousand four hundred meters.

I'm in group four - also known as the sprinter group. The group consists or Richard Smith, Mike Marr, Elina Riechard, Alexis Breeze, Jon Hurdle, and me - Emilie Olson-. All the girls are varsity runners. Elina is number five, Alexis number six, and me number eight. Our guys however, are strictly junior varisty because let's face it, their group is huge.

After a ten minute warm up run, just about everybody is at the entrance of Lunde Woods. After D2, we split into groups.

"Hey, watch it." Julianna says to me and struts away. Yes, she struts. I look to Clayton, and we make eye contact. I mouth 'Julianna is such a jerk', and he nods. Clayton is number three in guys varsity, and he's placed second in state.

Rule #6 - Push it to the limits - especially in front of him. Look like you can do it - and then do it.

~.~.~.~.~.

After an excruciating run, I job back to the high school, keeping up with Elina and Alexis, but not joining in on their squeaky talk about the masquerade dance. You weren't supposed to have a date, and you could only get ready with your gender. Kathryn, Marissa, and I were getting ready together, and we were picking similar dresses.

"Mileage over here!" A deep voice yells, and I grab the pencil and scrawl down 5.34 miles.

"Hey," I ask Clayton, "Can I have a ride home? My car is broken and in the shop." He nods, and writes down his mileage (6.58 miles) and I go into the girls varsity locker room.

After I change and run my hands through my hair, I get a text from my phone.

Unknown: Hey, you almost ready? I'm at the car waiting.

Emilie: On my way - be out in a second.

I just got Clayton's number.

Step two - complete.

I get into his car, and I turn on the radio. Olly Murs I Need You Know starts blasting through the speakers, and I sing along.

"I don't know who you are
Don't even know your name
I wish we could talk
But I don't have a number to call.

"So hold you hand up if you hear me,
I've been searching but all that I've found
Is everywhere that I go,
I'm standing alone in the crowd.

"And I need you now
I need you now

"I wonder how you kiss
How you fight
How you laugh
How you smile
All of the time

"I don't know who you are
Don't even know your name
I wish we could talk
But I don't have a number to call.

"So hold your hand up if you hear me
I've been searching but all that i found
Is everywhere that I go
I'm standing alone in the crowd"

"You have a great voice" Clayton smiles, and I thank him. I've been taking voice lessons since I was six, so I knew the basics of notes.

We pull into my driveway, and I see an unfamiliar car.

"Crap, " I mutter, and step out of the car. I turn to Clayton and ask "Is it okay if I text you later? It's probably one of my moms boyfriends or something."

"Sure," He nods and backs out.

Rule #7 - Don't play wannabe. Go and get what you want, and definitely don't wish upon a star - it doesn't work. And neither does that "fate" crap. Make it happen.

I trot upstairs to my room and mark off the box for 'Step Two' and go back down to find my mother making out with a stranger. I ran back upstairs and call Elina - who always knows what to do, but she doesn't pick up.

"God, please, please pick up."

After six calls, I remember I have Clayton's number. I smile, but not before my mother calls me down to introduce her new horror - I mean boyfriend.

And as many people would understand, my mother wasn't something you wanted to back-talk to. So I go downstairs, say hello, and run back upstairs. I did not want to know about her multi-millionaire boyfriend and how he could do all this stuff for us.

I just wanted to sleep. So, I turn on Pandora, set the radio I want, and close my eyes as a melody fills me ears until sleep claims me like death.

Step Three: Have him go somewhere with you, not a date, but somewhere you can connect -get to know each-other better. Let him know who you are, and why you are way better than his girlfriend

You know the best way to start out a day is with a healthy, delicious bowl of revenge, with a side of porcelain knives to do the bidding.

Okay, not really, but you see my point here, right?

Good.

Conference is in five days, and I'm breaking out - seriously. Zits and pimples and whatever skin deficiency that could possibly be on your face is on mine.

And when you're trying to steal a boyfriend, the last thing you need on your face is a gnarly, big, puss-filled zit smack dab in the middle of your forehead.

Rule #8 - Keep yourself flawless. No guy likes a pimply, four-eyed girl, am I right?

I apply some pimple cream, then add concealer to hide the fact they exist - on my face. I haven't had a blemish in like, five years. Why now? - after all, I am trying to steal a boyfriend.

The last thing you possibly need is pus to ruin your whole project.

~.~.~.~.~.

As I begin to walk to school, lightning shines before my eyes, and seven seconds later (I counted), a boom of thunder echoes and I feel sprinkles of water on my platinum blonde hair, and within minutes, a downpour hits, immediately soaking me, my back-pack, and my make-up, which starts dripping down my face like a girl who just experience a break-up - and was on her way to Starbucks for a latte.

Except a.) I wasn't even dating anyone, and b.) I hate Starbucks and coffee. I pull out my phone, touch up the smudges on my make-up, and text Clayton.

Emilie: Could you possibly give me a ride to school?

Clayton: yeah, sure. Where should I pick you up?

Emilie: corner of eastwood and concord.

Clayton: mkay

I put my phone away, and wait in the cold, drenching rain. After about five minutes, Clayton's car pulls up, and I throw my stuff in, apologize for being wet, and put my seatbelt on.

"So, so sorry," I say, wringing out my hair in the window, but to no avail.

"No prob," He turns up the volume on the radio, and I hit the wall when I realize what song is on.

Cool Kids by Echosmith - also known as one of my favorite songs ever. Of course, I only know the chorus...so I belt it out.

"I wish that I could be like the cool kids,
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in.
I wish that I could be like the cool kids, like the cool kids."

"I know I've said it before, but dang! You have got a great voice!"

"I know," I smile in vain, "Kathryn and I have these singing competitions on American Idol on the Wii, and I always win." I see his smile disappear, so I quickly add "But it's always nice to hear compliments, it definitely helps with self esteem."

His smile returns, and it seems like he's about to say something, but an odd ringtone sounds, something like WEEE-OHHHHH WEEE-OHHHH.

God, that's annoying.

"Yello?" He says, but I can't hear the other end of the line.

"Yep, I know....but..."

"Don't interrupt me, Kath!"

Well, there's the answer to the 'who called him' question that was rolling around in my head.

I zone the rest of the conversation out, and by the time he hangs out, we're pulling into the parking lot. I pull the little stick thing that unlocks the car and gather my bags.

"Sorry 'bout that," He apologizes, and I nod sympathetically.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," I whisper, barely audible, and I go through the doors, and enter what I like to call 'Hell on Earth' - otherwise known as Junior Year in Summerlin High School - which is a totally contradictive name, considering we live in Seattle, Washington, and we get so much rain.

Pretty sure like 65 inches per year, couldn't be sure, however.

I make sure I'm at the right locker, then slowly spin the lock.

6-15-46

I clear the code, and yank down the lock to release the catch. I put it in my mouth to keep it from falling and I exchange my homework workbooks for three binders, and accordion file, and two notebooks. My schedule consists of PreCalculus, Advanced Placement Chemistry, Advance Placement English, Creative Writing, Cooking, Wind Symphony, and Honors Study Hall, which is the best class ever. I could order Jimmy Johns and basically walk the hallways without a pass, and not get in trouble.

I also share three classes with Kathryn Suzanne, and five with Clayton. I share four with Julianna, and that's about it.

At PreCalc, one of the five (FIVE!) I share with Clayton, I pass him a note.

ʜᴇʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʜᴀɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ? sᴇᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ? ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴜsʏ

~ᴇᴍɪʟɪᴇ

He scrawls something down, but I can't see it - for he never passes it back to me.

Rule #9 - Act calm and collected ALL THE TIME. Don't be hyperactive and always act wild when you're by him - who would like that? I don't even think King Kong would.

The class is super confusing, and I almsot get nothing understood, so I mouth to Julianna, (yes, she tutors me), to help me. She clenches her teeth and shakes her head so forcefully, I'm afraid she'll break it or something.

I wait for Clayton to pass back the note, which he had scrawled 'yeah, sure' in that unidentifiable guy handwriting.

Seriously why are guys handwriting so much sloppier than girls? Is it just a natural thing? Or are we just better hand-writers?

The world may never know.

Instead of suggesting a movie, I catch up with Clayton on his way to Advanced Placement American Problems.

"Hey, could you possibly help me with this assignment?" I hold up the piece of impossible paper Mr. Remnant handed out.

"Yeah, sure. What time?"

"Seven?" I ask, and he nods.

"See you then."

I smile, and we part ways.

Rule #10 - Plan things, small stuff, like a tutoring session, help with homework, frisbee golfing, anything really would work.

"So, what's up?" I ask Kathryn on our way to creative writing, an elective we both took before Clayton became 100% of her life.

"Nothing, really." She frowns, and I can see wrinkles showing in her forehead - something you never want to happen. Wrinkles lead to creases - and those never go away.

"Something's up, Miss Suzanne. Now start talking."

"I think Clayton is cheating on me."

WAIT.

STOP THERE.

Clayton. Cheating. On. Kathryn. Suzanne.

Now, don't forget this, I love Kathryn Suzanne with my dear heart. She is like a sister to me. But also remember this.

I'm the villain. Miss Little Get the Boyfriend.

So, you honestly think that I would possibly care that Kathryn Suzanne was feeling desperately lost and needed my attention, love right then and there.

Well, partly. But the bigger thing on my mind was the fact that THERE IS ANOTHER PROBLEM IN MY EQUATION.

So, instead of x-y= happy me, it is now (possibly) x-y-y(2)= happy me. Which means more complications, planning, possibly repeating the same steps...

"I mean, there was another girl with him in the car on his way to school. I saw her!" Kathryn wails, and I suddenly realize that she was talking about me. I was the other girl in the car.

YES!

Future, possible, crisis averted meaning happy Emilie (me) could come quicker.

Especially with the possible fracture in the relationship - also moi fault.

Rule #11 - Make sure that there is a fracture in the relationship, something that could possibly drive them to an endpoint. Instead of it being YOUR fault, it was the fracture of the relationship - so you still have your BFF and a boyfriend. It's a win-win situation...for you anyway.

"You'll be okay" I speak in monotone with Kathryn because I don't want a ripple in our relationship. I may be 'accidentally' taking her boyfriend, but I am still her best friend. And best friend trumps boyfriend EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Sisters before misters.

Some people don't follow that rule. For me, it's like the relationship code. You have to follow it. Or you're a hoe - in most people's eyes.

Kathryn has been called a hoe, whore, and plenty of other things - especially since the whole 'I accidentally has sex with Clayton but I didn't get pregnant or anything shindig.'

And you expect me not to do something about this?

You're funny.

As the day (finally ended), I was relieved to see Clayton had texted me, and for once, I didn't text him.

Clayton: What time 4 tutoring session?

Emilie: how 'bout five?

Clayton: works 4 me.

I don't respond, but instead smile. Step three was finally complete, and it had been a great day. A rift had been put in place between Clayton and Kathryn Suzanne, I aced my English pop quiz, and Juliana had gone home sick.

And, after two agonizing hours, the doorbell finally rang.

Rule #12 - LOOK YOUR BEST.

I came up to the door in a cream miniskirt with a floral, blue tank top. The outfit was complete with an off-white cardigan stitched with dark blue satin.

"You look great."

"Thanks - I'll be right back."

I climb the stairs carefully, and with a grin showing off my teeth, I put a check-mark next to Step 3 - the hangout. I walk back downstairs and sit closer to Clayton then I should be and say

"Let's start."

He nods, and we get started.

After another two hours of him trying to explain it, me not getting it, him getting frustrated, me getting anxious, me getting zoned out, him texting Kathryn, Kathryn texting me, Juliana wondering if I had gotten her sick.

Let's just say it wasn't a productive tutoring sessions and leave it that.

"Thanks for trying," I grimace, then open the door.

"Yeah, of course," He leaves quickly, but not quick enough for him to check me out - for the umpteenth time.

There's nothing wrong with looking sexy - is there?

I start on my creative writing assignment, and warm myself up a mug of hot chocolate. On a sticky note, I find it in felt-tipped pen.

A sticky note.

XOXO,

tutor you 2morrow?

-Clayton

And of course, right behind me, was a smug, snarling Kathryn Suzanne armed and ready to kill.

The victim?

I'm ninety nine percent sure it's me.

"So," she snarls, never leaving her eyes off of mine, "hugs and kisses?"

"I...I don't know." I'm being honest here. I have no idea what this whole XOXO thing is. Maybe it's some weirdo trying to mess up my plans, in which case, I'd have to eliminate him/her from the plan, immediately.

"YOU DON'T KNOW?" Kathryn Suzanne screeches, and whips her hand at me. Instantly, freshly filed nails tear the skin below my eyeball and she slams the door, rattling the picture frame behind her.

Slowly, I feel a warm sensation drip down my face.

Well, at least scars make you look hot.

Step Four: Let the rift grow - cause some fights indirectly, because, after all, you're going for the guy, right? And we want to be the hero - not the enemy. And once he gets mad, comfort him. You've been through it. The lying. The using. The abuse. Tell him it will be okay.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is a fresh scab underneath my eye. It's pretty thin, but it's quite visible, and I automatically know there's going to be questions.

Thanks a lot, Kathryn Suzanne.

I take a look at the odd note we (K.S. and I) found on my counter. Like, who the flip entered my house without me knowing.

Well, then again, Kathryn Suzanne broke and entered...so...maybe I am not as secure...or ninja-like as I thought.

As I take a closer look at the note, I begin to realize a few things. A.)This person has really long, thick blonde hair. It's all over the note - way to shed.B.)It's a girl (refer to a.). C.)The are left handed, because the smears as the left hand went over are pretty obvious.

So, how many girls do I know that have long, thick blonde hair, female, and are left-handed, that I have done something horrible to in the past seventeen years in my life?

I, sadly, only know one.

Juliana.

Even though she went home sick, the girl can still find a way to ruin my life. Most likely, she didn't even sneak in while I was with Clayton. Most likely, she went into my house when she supposedly went home sick, dropped the sticky note, and left. She probably heard about it when Clayton and I were talking about when to meet up or something.

~.~.~.~.

I finally got my car back from the shop, so I hop in, blow a kiss to my mother - who was standing in the doorframe - and backed out of the driveway, narrowly missing my mothers suburban.

It was still raining - we were supposed to have this rain for three days straight. Some type of hurricane blow-off from Japan? - I think.

I pull into a parking space, and hop out. Already, people are staring at me, and I'm slightly worried that Kathryn Suzanne might've blown up on Twitter...

My phone buzzes with anticipation and I open it up to see that yes - Kathryn Suzanne blew up on Twitter, but not only that, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and MySpace.

It basically said the same story all over again.

@KathySuzanne - OMG! Caught the BF cheating on me with @Emmanem - they were at her house! >:(

Comments were already streamlining, and the re-tweets had already reached one point one million.

Some douchebag wrote

@Beefbag201 - what a hoe @Emmanem - get ur own bf

and

@JulesCash - what a slut - go to a park to do that type of stuff @Emmanem #loser #idon'thavetostealaboyfriendialreadygotone

but other comments were rooting me on - nobody shipped Kathlon.

For example:

@ElinaTayTay - Got get 'em girl #CrossCountryalltheyway! @Emmanem- <3 ya

and

@AlliGee - You rock girl! #CrossCountry #Rap2014 #Rupturetheirspleens #Girlsgettin'mean

So, I was getting pretty mixed reactions when I hit the doors. Some were looking at me in disgust, while others clung to me - I was the new Athena at Summerlin High.

I could probably say 'Bow down before me, you pathetic mortals', and the most likely would have done that - but I am a pretty sweet girl so, I don't. I just let them ask their questions.

"How did you get that scar?"

"How is it, being the most famous - yet hated girl in Summerlin?"

"How do you do it?"

"Why can't I be like you?"

I end up repeating myself so many times, I automatically know what to say before someone is going to say it.

"So, Emilie, how did you -?"

"I got the scar from Kathryn Suzanne because she snuck into my house while I was tutoring with Clayton and it's pretty cool being famous - even though a lot of people now hate me, and I do it...well I really don't know and because you are you - stay that way."

I may or may not of handed out some autographs.

When I finally caught up to Clayton, the first thing I noticed were the bags dropping underneath his eyes,

"Fight with Kathy?"

"Yeah," He nods, and continues to walk down the hallway, even though we have the same class (Honors Study Hall) at this point.

"Clayton, we passed the class ya know..."

"YES! I KNOW! But I gotta do somethin' for Kathryn Suzanne to make up for what I did." He hisses, and I back off.

"But you did nothing..." I murmur.

"In her eyes, I did everything," He says, anger ripping at his voice.

"I know."

"How do you know?" The irritation in his voice rises to an absurd level, and I start to question why I'm walking with him, talking with him.

Rule #13 - Let him fuse, guys don't get their anger out the same way girls do. Leave him alone. Don't question his motives, let them happen.

"My ex-boyfriend Darren Parker used to physically abuse me." I begin to tell him the story. His eyes widen right from the start, and with his nod, I continue.

"I fell in love with him from his looks, not his personality. He loved me for sex. I was sixteen, he was eighteen, a senior. I thought to have him as a boyfriend would be the world. Girls would be jealous of me, boys would want me even more. What I didn't know is that he was addictive. He'd make me want him, want to have sex with him. And he seduced me every single time. We had sex five times while we were together. And I loved it. He made me feel like I was his perfection, his loyalty. But, soon after, when I realized I had an addiction, he started hurting me. He began by pushing me into harms way, like doors ,walls. But it got bigger. He started slapping me, hitting me, leaving bruises all over my body. And finally, he pushed me into the road - with a semi-truck barreling down at seventy five miles per hour. He got arrested...that day."

Clayton looked at me with sympathy in his voice, and before I knew it, the bell rang.

We were both late. Very late, considering we had walked for ten minutes, and now had to walk ten minutes back.

I start to turn around and speedwalk from the opposite way we had come.

"Em, wait up!" Clayton calls, and turns to catch up to me.

I hesitate, for just a second, and wait.

Rule #14 - Do as he says. Wait for him. He wants to talk to you - so let him.

"I'm really sorry for acting like a jerk." Clayton apologizes, his voice wringing out sympathy like a squeezed sponge.

"It's fine!" I scream , a bit louder than intended.

We both make our way to the room, and quickly apologize to the teacher. He looks at us with a stink eye, but marks us 'present'. We leave the room again - because we only need to be there for attendance.

"So what are you going to do for Kathryn?" I ask.

"Winter Formal," was his reply.

We both part to catch up with our friends.

Rule #15 - Leave him be once in a while. Hangout with your friends.

"Hey, Elina" I smile and wave to her.

"Oh! Hey! Did you see the comment I posted on Twitter?"

"Uhh, yeah! It was awesome. Thanks for sticking up to me."

"It was a tutoring session. Why wouldn't I?" Elina smiles, and I instantly know she's someone I can trust, through thick and thin.

"Cool," I grin.

"So..."

We follow up with a random conversation, and by the end of the period, we have both secretly shipped Clayton and I into Clayilie.

"See you later!" I call out, and she does the same.

Kathryn Suzanne: Watchya up to today?

Emilie: Why would you care?

Kathryn Suzanne: I don't. Just thought I'd mention that Clayton is taking me to the fair. Yipee!

I don't bother to reply, and Kathy doesn't send me another message.

I get home, and my seven year old brother is on me in an instant.

"SISSY!" He cries, and I immediately know something is up.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Mummy ain't home and she ain't coming home."

I see the note on the table before rage and fury fill me.

Children,

I will not be home for five days, due to a business trip. Please be sure to keep the home tidy, for I will be bringing my finace home with me.

Love,

Mommy

"It's okay." I console him, but I can't console myself.

My mother is one of those people who will get married for a year, blow up a ton of money, then have us broke until she starts dating a doctor, gets us rich, and the cycle continues.

It kind of sucks, but there really is not a thing any of us can do about it. It is all of my mothers doing.

I march upstairs and grab my dry-erase marker, and 'X' off todays challenge.

[X]- Accomplish Step Four of Boyfriend Stealing

I smile and begin to tidy up my room - it was horrendous. Than, I began to notice something odd. Someone had been going through my drawers. Someone had taken something...but what was it?

I'm guessing it was either Kathryn or Juliana, but I couldn't be sure. I just needed to figure out what it was.

Oh my gosh.

I finally found what they took.

It wasn't what you would call a revenge type of thing, it was something that meant we were done, something tat meant everything tat I had bulit up throughout the years - was washed through by a flood.

Kathryn Suzanne came in and took all of the photos we did everything we had done together. Now, I don't know what she was going to do with them, but I do know one thing.

I needed to get my best-friend back.

So as of now, Boyfriend Stealing was on break. I needed to get back my best-friend. And sadly, the first thing I had to do was lay off of the boy.

I wrote his number down on a sticky note, placed it in my jewelry box, and proceeded to delete his number from my phone. Then, I picked a certain one and called.

No answer.

"Hey, this is Kathryn Suzanne, can't come to the phone - leave a message at the beep- *BEEP*"

"Hey, it's me. I know the last person you'd want to talk to would be me - but I'm really sorry. You're my bestest friend in the entire world, and I would give that away for nothing. When you get the chance, call me and I'll explain everything, I promise."

I ended the call, and decided something.

I wasn't going to tell anyone, absolutely no one about the Boyfriend Stealing project. That had to remain top secret, and nobody could figure it out - otherwise, I'd be dead meat in an instant.

Suddenly, a call came from the phone - I check the caller I.D.

'You have got to be kidding me,' I murmur.

Clayton just called me, and if I was sticking to my rule, I could not - under any circumstance, pick it up.

I'll ust lie, say I didn't know he called, my phone was dead...I needed some excuse.

But, under all the guilt I laid upon myself, everything I said I would do - well, let's face it...

I did not want to be that old cat lady on the bed, petting her endless amounts and wishing she had a boyfriend.

I picked up the call.

The guilt that quenched me was nothing, but as we continued to talk about the randomest things, it continually got worse and worse, until finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Listen, I gotta go. I can't take this -"

"Wait, take what?"

But it was too late for me to respond because I had already hung up.

And with racks shuddering through my body, I began to sob.

Why couldn't I just have the one fairytale ending I've always wanted. Why can't things be so easy?

Why is it not just x-y=happy emilie, but instead x-y+a-v-w+l-d=happy emilie.

So many variable, not enough happiness.

But hey, I was used to it.

You may know the scheming side of me, but have no idea who I truly am.

Meet Emilie, the girl who used to be anorexic.

I wasn't always charismatic or charming. In fact I used to be concerned about everything - and it drove me mad, but today, today I can happily say that though I haven't beaten my battles, I have overcome most of them.

Except one.

Claiming Clayton as mine.

Step 4b: [Also known as how to get your best friend back] - STAY AWAY from the boy. Leave him be. Make her your full attention. Sisters before Misters, Bro's before Hoes. It's the law - and that means your best friend trumps boyfriend -every single time. Get her back.

"Kathryn!" I call out to my best-friend as she walks down the hallway after Creative Writing Club.

"What?" The fury of her voice stops me short, and I have to recollect my thoughts before I call her name again, and chase her down.

"Kath, listen -" I begin, but she interrupts me almost immediately.

"No. You listen to ME." Her voice cracks, as if she is on the verge of tears but her voice grows cold within an instant. "I'm sick of your games, Emilie. One moment you're with this guy, the next another one. 'Oh, we broke up cause he wanted to have unprotected sex.' 'Oh, we broke up because I just didn't like him anymore.' 'Oh, he broke up with me after we had sex.' Yet, you have never been called a whore, slut, hoe, or any sexually derogatory term whatsoever. Yet, I have sex with Clayton - once - yet the next day, and up to this day I'm still called these terms. What is with you? Why - how do you keep quiet - or make people watch it what they call you? I don't get it."

"Well, maybe that's because you can't keep your mouth shut from blabbing," I shoot back, my voice full of the fury that had once belonged to her.

"What the -?" But she is never able to finish, because I barge right in.

"You know, when you first started dating him, I was like whatever, but now, I am fully pissed off. You knew, you fully knew I liked him, I just could not date. You used that to your advantage, and you gave me bullcrap about how you would get him attracted to me. Next thing I know, you had sex with him. I was going to be a good friend, ya know, blow it off, help you out with all the pigs calling you a slut, but with your jealous little booty lighting candles all over the gosh forsaken place, I think you need to lay off the boy - or something. Kathryn Suzanne, you are boy addicted, and I am sick of it."

"You think I don't know that? You think I'm stupid, and insensible?" Let me tell ya a story, Emilie. The only reason I started dating Clayton was because I could not TAKE the pressure anymore. You always blabbing about how much you were in love with him and whaddya know. I figured I get your mind off of him for a while, get you attracted to some other guy. Em, I love you, but I was so sick of you always talking about Clayton. Did you hear Clayton--? Did you know Clayton--? I NEVER CARED. So, I decided to date him, figure out what love was. Instead, I figured out what lust was - and I paid the price. If you thought I wanted to have sex with him - you're wrong. It happened, okay?" Kathryn bawls out, tears forming puddles down the porcelain hallway.

"The funny thing is -" I yell, "I don't believe you. For a second. How do you not try to have sex with him, Kathy Suz? Tell me, how?" Tears start pouring down my face, but I don't care. Kathryn Suzanne was getting on my nerves, and I just could not deal with it anymore.

I remember walking out the building crying, just crying. Tears were blurring my vision profusely, and then, somewhere in the middle, I just collapsed. In the middle of the road I fell to the ground, in a puddle of tears and lies.

I don't know how long I was there, but by the time I came from my seizure of crying, I was on a pure white bed, in a pure white hospital. Pure white girls in pure white gowns stood around me, ready for something awful to happen, like I puke and stain the perfectly whiteness of this white room, and they remove it so I cabe be surrounded by purity.

I would expect a mob of people surrounding me, you know, after my little social media war with Kathryn Suzanne. But, instead, all I found was my mother, brother, sister, and a la boyfriend with a look of concern on all their faces.

"Oh! Thank God," My mother cries as she wraps me in a bone crushing hug that makes my body threaten to pass out - again.

"Sissy! You up!" My little brother shrieks and runs to me.

My sister waves to me, and my mothers boyfriend just stands there, a look of sympathy on his face.

If that were my biological father, I would have been able to see the similarities.

The smug look on both of their faces, their poise (both were standing cross armed, one leg over the other), and the widow's peak stuck on their foreheads.

A knock on the wooden door indicated that either a nurse, doctor, random janitor, or someone pretending to be immediately family was trying to come in.

"Come in," I try to shout, but it comes out in a hoarse whisper.

The metal handle turns and in comes not one, but two people. One who I am not particularly fond of at this moment, and the other who I am trying to stay away from.

Not enough hints?

One starts with K, and the other starts with C.

"What in the world are you doing in here?" My taped up face was stretching out places I didn't want stretched, so my face contorted into odd shapes as I talk.

"Well, hello Ms. Sunshine," Kathryn Suzanne playfully remarks, but I blow her off with an ice cold glare.

"Hey," Clayton says, and I nod my 'hello'.

"Why she grumpy?" Kathryn asks my mother, and she shrugs her shoulder.

"Why you grumpy?" Kathryn asks me, and I roll my eyes at her.

"Do you not remember what happened, two hours ago?" I laugh sarcastically, and point to the clock, and then to Clayton. He frantically looks from me to Kathryn, and I'm sure he was wondering what the heck was going on.

"Really? That's why you're here?" Kathryn starts to chuckle, and her chuckles become guffaws, and soon she is laughing so hard I'm afraid she might die.

"What's so funny? My eyes widen at here. Like, what was going on?

"It's nothin' now darlin'. You are, and will always be my best friend, and there is going to be nothing in the whole world, including boys," she stops to wink at me in this dramatic fashion, "that will keep us apart. You got that?"

I smile. Nothing like getting that done and over with. "Yeah, awesome."

"So, uh, we need to get goin'. We're seeing an oldie over at his house," Kathryn Suzanne remarks to me, and I wave her off.

"Go have fun," I say, and while she is busy looking romantic with Clayton for a moment, I think 'Have fun with him while you can, cause in a couple weeks, he'll be mine.'

"So, can I eat?" I mumble, and everyone in my family forces their head to say 'no.'

"Why not?" I whine, and my 15-year-old sister speaks up.

"They don't want you to damage your lungs or something - " She acts like she might say more, but nothing else exits her mouth.

"When can I go home?"

"Tomorrow afternoon - you'll be missing school," Dan [the boyfriend], informs me. "We'll come and pick you up soon after."

"Okay," I reply, and shut my eyes. Elevator music is floating into my ears, but there's nothing I can do about it. Already, I can feel a headache pounding within my skull.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but long enough for my family to leave. But the presence of someone was still in there. I try to open my eyes, but they refused the command. At least, I thought. All I could feel, hear, see was darkness.

"Shh," A gruff, unrecognizable masculine voice echoed through the room.

The was the point I realized there was a blindfold keeping me from seeing the outside world.

"Who are you?" My voice trembles, and I try to sound brave, but the shuddering of my voice proves I am nothing but a coward, scared of the stranger in her hospital room.

The man said nothing else, but his feet scratched against the floor and moved closer to me.

"I don't know if this is allowed -"He said, and leaned against the bed.

I can feel his minty breath across my face, and his hands were strong and callused. I couldn't see him, but I could tell he was fit.

But who was he?

He had to know me somehow, in a possible way.

Maybe someone I knew from school?

That had to be it. I wasn't religious. I only do Creative Writing, Track & Field, and Creative Writing as my extra-curriculars.

Who was he?

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the force of his lips brought to mine. I pleasantly kissed him back, even though I didn't know who he was, and he knew who I was.

I can't say how long we kissed, because before I knew it, he left.

I took of the blindfold, and I recognize it almost immediately.

A bright yellow, dyed with pinks and blues could only mean one thing.

This guy was from cross country.

He was in love with me - or he was playing with me.

Could it have possibly been Clayton?

The chances were high. The bandana was a varsity one, so I had a twelve and a half percent chance of it being him.

Could, he possibly like me?

I've been holding out for a long time. I'm looking for my Hercules, a strong man, my hero. He'd be there for me, through the hardest of times to the silliest of times.

I need a hero.

And I want to find it - through this plan. I know, positively know that Clayton could be it. He was strong, fast, and everything I - or any girl could possibly want.

So, why do I keep getting this impossible feeling in the bottom of my heart that I'll never be with him, that he'll just leave me, me and Kathryn Suzanne both, and go with someone else as we all leave.

What was going on?

It was like a hopeless dream.

I never want to see him go, Clayton. All I have ever wanted for a long time, was him. All of him. Mine. It may sound greedy, but I believe we all have soul mates - and that they are meant to be found.

Hey, Kathryn Suzanne.

We're friends again, aren't we?

Well than, hold on tight - girl.

It's going to be a rollercoaster. You know, the one with the loopy-loops that make you sick and puke and throw up?

Clayton is that ride, darlin'.

And I'm getting on that ride, so you better watch it. Kathryn Suzanne, I swear. If you try to take my man - again I will kill you. On the code of friendship, wedding vows, something.

It was time to get back down to business.

Rule #15- Get him to check on you. Show some faux signs that you may pass out again. Have him on you like a hawk. Watch her get jealous. Make him give you sympathy, his caring self. And if you can, get him to hug you.

Project How I Accidentally Stole My Best-friend's boyfriend is now back on track, no thanks to Kathryn Suzanne.

Just as there are two sides to every story, there are always two sides to a person. One side of them could be kind and compassionate, and the other side could be evil and devious.

And it's my other side I'm more fond of.

A/N - Who do you think kissed Emilie? Clayton? Or some other guy on the cross country team? (hint, the names of the guys (some) are on chapter one, I think) Post in comments below who you think dunnit!

~Kylie

Step Five: What I like to call the 'Jealousy Project'. You're not getting the girl jealous, you're getting him jealous. I know, right? Men can get jealous. (I may or may not have done it before...). Start your flirt with someone else, a best-friend, maybe? And the best part is, the best-friend knows what you're doing - and wants to help. So, get his attention on YOU -not her - YOU.

Have you ever heard of the little rhyme...I think it goes like this:

an apple a day keeps the doctor away.

Well, I made some modifications to it. I think it more represents today's society, or at least me:

a gun not far away keeps the girlfriend at bay.

See what I mean, though? Today, all over the news, there's something about a shooting. A shooting in Milwaukee, a shooting in Kenosha, a shooting everywhere

And that is part of my goal, keeping the girlfriends at bay. To complete step five, I need Kathryn Suzanne to be out of the picture - not constantly on his back, because otherwise, Jake is going to be worthless to my plan.

Jake is my brother with different mothers, and he is also Clayton's best friend. And also vital to my plan. You see, Jake is my flirt project right now. He knows it - and is willing to help - thank goodness. I do not want to recruit a nerd who thinks I am falling for him or something - that would be just plain awful.

Emilie: you ready for today, jakeypoo?

Jake: never been readier emilie-babe

Emilie: emilie-babe, really? That's the best you can come up with as a pet name?

Jake: geez, sorry. How about Ems?

Emilie: I like it:)

Jake: Well, that's your new nickname;)

Emilie: Cool! Catchya later, babe!

Jake: talk to you later, sweetcheeks

I laugh to myself as I pull into the parking lot. It's been three days since my little 'episode', as I like to call it, and things have been pretty well, if I do say so myself. Popularity has sky-rocketed. On polls that I have had people conduct, I am now more well-liked than hated, and rumour has it that Clayton was the mysterious boy in my hospital room.

So, that's good news.

The masquerade dance is in three days, and as part of my 'Jealous Project', Jake and I were going to meet up, you know, make Clayton jealous and such.

Kathryn, Marissa, and I were still getting ready together, it was just I was going to be with Jake the entire night.

Now, let me get this straight. I have never had sex with Jake. I have never been Jake's girlfriend. Jake friendzoned me, and I friendzoned him. I would rather have Jake as a forever friend than a hated ex-boyfriend.

The worst part about falling in love with your bestfriend is that you'll either be together forever, or one day you'll become strangers walking opposite ways on the same side of the street.

There's some reality of fear - in a sense.

For example, I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm afraid of what is in the dark. I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of falling. I've never been scared of the people around me - I'm just scared of rejection.

I'll never be afraid of trying again - but my deepest darkest fear is being hurt, and treated again in the exact same way as before, and that it will go in through this cycle - a never ending cycle.

That is my reality of fear.

And how it relates to love - I'm not afraid of falling in love. I'm afraid of being rejected.

The last thing I would possibly want is Clayton refusing me.

Rule #16- When one is with his best friend, don't pay any attention to him. Kiss him, hug him, affectionate, it's all ploy. The goal - make his jealous. But don't make him MAD at his best-friend. Never ruin a friendship to get what you want.

I start my day by walking right in between Jake and Clayton, my head resting against his arm as we walk hand-in-hand. I can sense Clayton's eyes shifting over every now and then.

"So Jakey-poo, what are we doing after school?" I cuddle up against him by his locker, Clayton still clinging to us.

"What do you want to do, Ems?" Jake asks, and pecks me on the top of the forehead.

I can feel myself blushing, yet I return it back, on his cheek. He looks at me in awe, and I mouth 'Part of the plan', and he nods again.

"Let's just hang out at your house," I lie, and the red is creeping back into my cheeks.

"Hey, Kathy," Clayton suddenly says, and all of the sudden a make-out session is happening in front of Jake's locker. Jake gives me a look, and I smile slyly. I make the first move, bringing it in slowly, tilting my head to meet his.

And all of the sudden, our lips crash and we're kissing, kissing, and kissing. I have no idea how long it lasts, but by the time we break, Kathryn Suzanne and Clayton aren't there.

"Think he-?" Jake starts to talk, but interrupt him, because I already know what he's going to say.

"Yes! Thank you so much - sweetie," I add, to play on effect of course.

"Well, uh, see you later," I wrap my arms around his torso, giving him a hug before I go.

I walk briskly down the hallway, trying to forget everything that happened. I don't want us to become a thing. The last thing I would want to do is Jake to break my heart, or even worse, I break his. That just cannot happen.

"Hey, Clayton," I cheerfully say as I walk into first block.

"Hello," the permanent frown on his face gives me the reaction I was hoping for. Clayton is jealous.

"So, when did you two exactly get together?" He asks, and my face lit up.

"Two days ago," I reply, "after he came and picked me up from the hospital because my mother couldn't make it.

"Oh." Is all Clayton says before walking back to his desk.

I shrug my shoulders, and get to work on the warm-up that was set on my desk by the teacher. The problems were impossible.

3x +17y - 4d = 25x - 24d / 0.68y

Math has never been my 'thing'.

Even though my Aunt Clara is an accountant, and math 'runs in the family', I just have never been able to grasp it.

"Thank goodness Jake is coming over," I mumble, and I see Clayton look in my direction.

"I could help, ya know." He offers, but I shake my head profusely.

"No, it's fine. I was planning on him coming over, instead of me going over there," I whisper, and get back to pretending I'm doing something.

Before I know it, the bell rang, and there is Jake, waiting outside of my classroom.

"Hey, Ems," He swoops in to peck me again, and a grin spreads across my face.

"Hey," I pull him closer to me, and we walk down the hallway to our next class, which is shared by what I like to call, the fun four. Me, Jake, Kathryn Suzanne, and Clayton all have AP English together, and it is a blast every single day. Our teacher, Mrs. Crane-Gilbert lets us debate about certain objects. Today, I started off the debate by talking about women being treated as objects.

"Has anyone realized that while men can have many wives, we are expected to have one husband, yet other men just come and rape us?" I begin the debate with my statement, which I have been preparing for for weeks.

"Actually, studies show that women are more likely to become an object on their own time. For example, in Mice & Men, Curley's wife liked to get men's attention - and she paid the price for it."

After several more comments, we get rolling on our literature groups, where we were split up to read common pieces of our favorite authors. Kathryn and I were together, and we merged with Jake and Clayton in the beginning of the year. We were currently reading The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han. Basically, the boys lost the bet for their book, and they were stuck reading a 'sappy ladies novel' for the rest of the quarter.

At the beginning, we both snuggle with our lovers. I had my head resting against Jake, his chest slowly rising up and down. It was just so comforting, you know?

All of the sudden, Clayton is glaring at both me and him, and gets up.

"I'm so sick of this," he mutters, and barges out of the room. Mrs. Crane-Gilbert looks at us questionly, but says nothing.

"I got it," I say, and rush out of the room.

"What's up?" I demand, and Clayton turns toward me, fury raging on his face.

"What is with you too?" His teeth are clenched, and his fists begin to clench and unclench.

"We're a couple, exactly like you and Kathryn Suzanne," I reply nonchalantly, and that irritates him even more.

"But, why Jake?"

"He's been my best-friend since forever, and we both wanted to move things a step farther."

Without another word, I guide him back to the room.

"What was that about?" Jake whispers as my head rests on his chest once again.

"Our plan is working," I whisper back, and he smiles, but then frowns.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, there is. Spit it out, boy."

"I'll tell you after this, okay?"

"Whatever," and I continue to read.

To be honest, I've read this book a million times, so I know Isabel goes for Jeremiah and they want to get married but then Belly realizes that she has loved Conrad all this time so she marries him instead. It's quite cute actually, and Jenny Han made it into a trilogy, which makes it ten times better, in my book.

~.~.~.~.~.

"So, now you have to tell me," I whine after english ends and we both start to walk to lunch.

"I really don't want too," Jake replies as I lean against his locker.

"Well, I ain't movin' until you tell me what you keepin' " I say in a southern drawl, and we both laugh.

"Fine."

"Spit it out," I urge.

"Fine. I'm in love with you, Ems."

My eyes widen in shock as I step back. I continue doing so until I'm able to turn around, and then I rush down the hallway.

"Em! Emilie! Come back!" Jake calls from the end, but I'm already moving too fast to stop.

I can't tell Jake I don't love him, because that would be lying.

I can't believe it.

In the process of a day, I fell in love with my best friend. And made my best-friend's boyfriend jealous.

I need to tell him.

"Jake," I rush back to his locker, but he's gone. I look and I look, until I see him at the end of the hallway.

"I love you too," I reply breathlessly, and then I kiss him, full on the lips.

I have completed Step Five, but I also realized something. If I fell in love with my best-friend, what do I do. Keep going for it, or back down and hang with Jake instead.

I think I am going to go for it.

Jake would understand, right?

When you start something you have to finsih. Like, in cross. The back of our shirts say

Run like you have to

Walk if you must

Crawl if you need too

but

finish what you started.

And I, Emilie Olson, am going to steal Kathryn Suzanne's boyfriend.

Successfully.

A/N - Do you ship it? Talk to me in the comments whether you ship Emilayton or Jaylie!

~Kylie

Step Six: You automatically know it's trouble when you're falling for the wrong guy. It's like - oh crap. So here's the thing. STAY AWAY FROM CRUSH NUMBER TWO AT ALL COSTS. I hate to say this, but he might stop liking you. Keep up with the guy YOU want, and you'll get him, I promise.

The sun is shining like someone took a piece of gold and reflected it on a mirror. The river is a piece of glass, threatening to shatter any second - while everything takes a new shade of color.

And here I am, dull in color and love. There is a huge contrast between reality and dream, sadly. As I have said before, I'm grey in a harsh and colorful world, and nothing can change me, well except love.

I guess I could've taken the chance - maybe life would have been so much easier dating Jake instead of trying to get Clayton but I've always been told never to give up, always keep trying, and never to let someone else stop me from doing whatever I am.

Sorry, Jake, but I need to do this, I just...well, I have to. For the purpose of love, for the dreams of lust, for everything, I guess.

This may sound ridiculous, but for five years, at 11:11, 12:34, any freaking wish on me, I wished for Clayton, not Jake. I want Jake to stay as a friend, forever. I don't want to lose him.

There are those guys you would much rather be friends with forever, than the guy you become strangers with, someone you hate in your future.

I would much rather lose Clayton than you, Jake.

If that doesn't prove how much I care about you, I have no idea what will.

So, if you truly love me, if you truly want to be by my side forever, please, please just stay friends with me.

That is all I ask.

~.~.~.~.~.

I'm in a spaghetti tank top and sport shorts - and it's already November fifth. If that doesn't say I'm committed to running, I have no idea what will. It's the day before sectionals, and because of her illness, Juliana can't run. That poor girl. The girls team is (from 1st runner to 7th) Emma, Valerie, Quinn, Kaitlin, Elina, Alexis, and Me - Emilie. I'm kind of on an adrenaline rush because of it, and my warm-up run is ten times faster than it should be.

I needed to slow down. Or else I'll end up getting a stress fracture in my foot or something - and that is the last thing I need right now. An injury to get me out of sectionals after all his time trying to get in.

That would be disastrous.

Here is the step by step process for 'accidentally' stealing a boyfriend:

Step One - Get him alone with you, on what I'd like to call...a stalker date? Only you know it's happening.

Step Two: Get his phone number and constantly keep up a conversation - no time to waste between the transitioning stage of girlfriends.

Step Three: Have him go somewhere with you, not a date, but somewhere you can connect -get to know each-other better. Let him know who you are, and why you are way better than his girlfriend

Step Four: Let the rift grow - cause some fights indirectly, because, after all, you're going for the guy, right? And we want to be the hero - not the enemy. And once he gets mad, comfort him. You've been through it. The lying. The using. The abuse. Tell him it will be okay.

Step Four(b): [Also known as how to get your best friend back] - STAY AWAY from the boy. Leave him be. Make her your full attention. Sisters before Misters, Bro's before Hoes. It's the law - and that means your best friend trumps boyfriend -every single time. Get her back.

Step Five: What I like to call the 'Jealousy Project'. You're not getting the girl jealous, you're getting him jealous. I know, right? Men can get jealous. (I may or may not have done it before...). Start your flirt with someone else, a best-friend, maybe? And the best part is, the best-friend knows what you're doing - and wants to help. So, get his attention on YOU -not her - YOU.

Step Six: You automatically know it's trouble when you're falling for the wrong guy. It's like - oh crap. So here's the thing. STAY AWAY FROM CRUSH NUMBER TWO AT ALL COSTS. I hate to say this, but he might stop liking you. Keep up with the guy YOU want, and you'll get him, I promise.