I think the person who hurt me the most was Andrea.

Andi, as we liked to call her, was incredibly gorgeous and immensely entertaining. She was a year younger than I was but was in the same grade due to some fluke that I never quite understood. Andi also had an incredible singing voice and acted extremely well- but her seemingly low self esteem cast a shadow on these two talents that prevented her from succeeding much in either.

But Andi, as it turned out, had an immense flaw- she was extremely untrustworthy.

I didn't know it at the time I met her, but that awful year in that awful institution called "middle school" she would lead me into a heartbreak that would never quite cease to haunt me as the years went by.

And as most heartbreak happens, it involved a boy.

I had never really known Greg until I was forced to sit next to him in English and History. He was relatively new to the school, arriving only last year from merry ol' England. He was quite tall, rail thin, and was what one would call cute rather than handsome.

The thing I remember about him most is his voice and how it was not quite changed, not quite British, and more scratchy than velvety.

I also remember the clothes he wore since every day, without fail, he would sport a Manchester United soccer shirt. I was convinced he was either too poor for more clothes or just too lazy to wash the shirt.

But he was friendly, flirty, and infinitely braver than any other boy his age- and that's what won me over.

Since I sat next to him in two classes the entire year, I found out a lot about him. I was also assigned to be in a countless number of project groups with him. Fate's a scary thing, 'cause suddenly I saw him everywhere.

I recall that once I was sitting near and open window, reading a book, and suddenly Greg came over and pulled me away from it. He made up some excuse for it, like I was blocking the view, but it was apparent that he was worried about the open window I was reading out of.

He did things like steal his friends' seats in order to sit next to me, which in turn flattered me to no end. I don't know how many times I looked over and saw him staring right on back at me.

That was pretty much the extent of his crush on me, but Andi convinced me otherwise.

She convinced me that he was so- there's no other word- fanatical about me that he collected the pencils that he borrowed from me. She told me time and time again about how he would say sweet things about me to his friends or draw me in French class.

But I started getting skeptical when one of the things he "said" about me turned out to be an exact quotation from a movie.

The things she said and the things I believed… It's embarrassing, really, how much I trusted her.

"Tell me something else, Andi! Please, tell me what he said about me?" I pleaded to her over the phone one day during our daily confession session.

"Hmmm, well- I think I've told you enough for today. After all, I'm not supposed to be telling you any of this at all."

I almost had a coronary.

"ANDI! I'm dying, here! Just one liiiitttlleee thing? And then- that's it for today, I promise."

Andi expelled an elongated sigh.

"Well, I suppose if you promise…"

"I do! I do!"

"Then I can tell you this. He was talking to his ex girlfriend in the hallway and he saw you walking past. He immediately shut up and practically droooooolled over you. His ex wasn't too happy…"

I'm sorry to say I squealed and jumped up and down for joy. Getting Andi to share anything of that utmost importance was the ultimate challenge- one that I usually succeeded in.

She hastily said goodbye to me after that and we both hung up. Till the next day, at least, when she'd tell me that he wrote a poem to me on his French homework, or he snuck a sip out of my lemonade when I wasn't watching at lunch.

As I said, it's pretty stupid how much I believed her, but she was my best friend and how could I not?

I made the mistake of telling my other friends about Greg and his obsession with me. As a result, I was endlessly teased and soon pretty much the whole school knew about how Greg liked me. They just couldn't understand why.

I couldn't really understand either. I mean, I wore glasses, had a pretty bad haircut, practically no fashion sense, and was not exactly popular. But hey, he liked me- and that was reason enough for me.

I actually looked forward to school that year. I went to every class with a smile on my face and practically giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing him in my next class.

During the last week of school, I knew we were running out of time. If he was going to ask me out, he'd better do it soon, right? I knew I didn't want to wait for an entire summer to see him again and figured that he wouldn't either.

He actually made several attempts during the last few days. He sent one of his friends over to confess, but the poor guy seemed to have forgotten how to speak and turned back around without saying anything.

Then, during the last history class of the year, he stayed behind while I was packing up my books. He waited until the teacher and all the other students left until he approached me, opened his mouth, and said:

"Errr, that's a cookie."

He was pointing behind me while he said it, gesturing to a chocolate chip cookie that had been left behind. Of all of the things he could've said, that was the one thing I'd never have guessed. I mean, a cookie?! Was that the best he could do!?

I managed to give him an exasperated smile and left the classroom without giving him a chance to say anything else.

My friends immediately told me what a bad idea this had been and how I just HAD to fix it! At the time, I believed them. Turned out to be a bad move- because after school was over, I did one of the bravest and stupidest things I've ever done.

A/N: Oooohhh- cliffhanger. Yes, I know- you're dying to know what I did. Well, reviews inspire me (just as the one from Ruby did) and maybe you'll get to know exactly what happened a liiittle sooner. Now off, my little munchkins!