A/N: heyy guys ^_^! This is my first one-shot on FP, so i hope you like it! Review and favorite and all that good stuff that goes on ice cream :D

If you guys find any name mix-ups (i.e. Max instead of Willy) let me know. I have the tendency to mix up my characters with the ones from my other ongoing stories.

Thanks to cerulean-azure who pointed them out!


Dear God,

We're moving. Ugh, I freaking hate it. Moving sucks, you know? You have to pffack all of your belongings into boxes, tape it, and then load into a truck. After that, you have unload the boxes from the truck, into the new house, and unpack everything, as if all the hard work into packing the crap into the boxes was nothing. UGHHH! I hate it! I want to freaking murder those fudging crap-colored boxes!


I'm sorry. I'm afraid I have getting too into it.

If you don't mind now, I have to finish unpacking the useless things I call my worldly possessions.

Love always,


Dear God,

I'm so scared, God.

It's my first day of school.

I hate first days so much. They are always nerve-wracking and scary and humiliating and scary. The new kid always gets stared at, especially at a small school where I'm moving to. And rumors spread pretty quickly about the new kid and before you know it, a prank has been executed.

Why did you created such a thing, God?

I don't know what I should wear today. It's in the middle of the first semester, so it's going to be pretty cold. Will a sweater and a pair of plain old jeans suffice? I don't know, I've never been really good at this "fashion" stuff. What do you think? You've been through my closet, I'm assuming. You've been around the world plenty of times, so you should have an idea what "style" is, right?

I'll get back to you later after school.

Love always,


Dear God,

Today was a disaster to say the least.

Well, maybe just the beginning of the day.

I wore my purple sweater with the large star and my favorite torn jeans. I had my red hair up in a low pony-tail. I thought I looked pretty decent, but as soon as I entered the school, a group of snobby girls started giggling in a negative way. I tried to ignore them, you know? And then one of them just had to shout insults at my back. My temper got the best of me then and there, and I guess you could guess what happened next.

I landed in the principal's office almost immediately (the girl had an emergency button to the office, I think). I was carried, yes, carried, by a security guard to the office. He patted my back and gave me the thumbs up afterwards. I assumed that he disliked that group of snobby girls as much as I did.

The principal was a chubby Asian man who looked pretty young and strict at the same time. He had a deep, tenor voice that caused my very bones to vibrate. It was pretty scary. But he's not a bad guy, if you don't get on his bad terms, that is. He lectured me about punching other students in the face for like five minutes (a record!), but he let me go, just like that. He told me not think myself as special; he only did it because I'm a new student.

The school was easy to navigate around too. It wasn't ridiculously gargantuan like my old one where over 2,000 students roam the halls every 55 minutes. It was like the rhinos were released. Not that I'm insulting your creations or anything.

Today also happen to be the informational meeting for girls' soccer. The actual season won't start until spring, but the coaches want to dedicate the winter season to conditioning. Now, I'm sighing to myself. I hate conditioning.

But, but, but…

I believe I have met your finest creation yet.

Now, I am attempting to wink.

I'll tell you more about it tomorrow, when we start out jogging.

Love always,


Dear God,

I promise to tell you about him, yeah? Well, I learned of his name today, when we had to play this introducing-ourselves game (boy, I fudging hate those games). When it was my turn to "introduce myself", I was shaking. I was never good at speaking in front of people, you know? So I was just shaking, shaking everywhere. I was stuttering too. And when I stutter, I sweat. Not profusely though, thank you God for that. When I couldn't get my name across to my future fellow teammates, he spoke up.

"Take a deep breath," he said in a loud, clear, confident voice, "and then speak."

I did what he advised to do. I was able to get my name across without stuttering, but after that, I just said everything else about me really fast that no one was able to decipher what I said. Sad, really. Now no one knows that I won my first eating contest when I was 8.

If it wasn't for him though, I wouldn't be able to say at least say my name in front of 20 or so girls.

His name is William Mann. But he goes by Willy.

Love always,


Dear God,

School was boring...until practice.

We did standard soccer drills, like passing a ball back and forth to a partner. And oh no, I didn't have a partner because I was the new girl, wah, wah, wah. We had an odd numbers of girls too, so coach assigned me to…guess who.

Haha! You needn't guess! But yes, yes it was Willy, the manager-to-be of the girls' soccer team.

Luckily, luckily, for me, we were doing soccer (which I'm very good at) and not some English project. I'm horrendous at that subject. And as you know, I'm anything but nervous when it came to something I'm good at. If anything, I can become rather cocky and competitive.

I'll admit I was a bit nervous when I had to be partnered up with the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. Luscious, silky chocolate hair that hung in his ocean blue eyes. He smiled with the straightest possible white teeth. He was tall and lean with strong muscles. I sigh mentally whenever I see him.

He steered me to a corner of the soccer field, one that farthest from everyone else. When he passed me the ball, he did it so gently that it offended me. I looked up to see if he was doing it as a joke. He was face was passive and serious, so I knew he wasn't. I believe he was testing me. So to prove to him I kicked like a man, I launched the ball powerfully with my right leg towards him. The look on his face was priceless. He was surprised…and impressed.

"So you got a leg," he commented.

I'd say that was the best compliment I have ever received.

He passed the ball back to me, a bit harder. Okay, I was kidding. He kicked the ball pretty darn hard. But I saved the ball just in time before it rolled too far away from us.

"Nice reflexes," he complimented.

I flashed him one my cheeky grins in response to his words.

"So new kid, huh?" he said, now passing the ball back and forth casually.

"Yup," I said easily. Like I said, I'm never nervous when I was doing something I was good at. "The new kid."

He chuckled breezily. He had a pretty laugh, a one that sent butterflies fluttering along my spine. "What's it like?"

I stopped the ball with my feet, playing small tricks with it using my foot. "Guess."

"Well," he started, messing with the ball when I passed it to him, "it's scary, from what I heard."

I laughed. "Duh," I said rolling my eyes.

He chuckled. "Uh, I guess it's scary because you're scared what everyone will think of you."

I shook my head. "That may be the case for everyone else, but not me. I don't give a rat's toe sticking out of your grandmother's soup what people think of me."

He laughed suddenly, pointing his finger at me. "You're the girl who punched Amy Biscoe?"

"Is that what her name was?" I asked.

"Haha! You're secretly everyone's hero," he informed me. "Especially me," he added, whispering loudly.

"Really?" I smiled. "I never thought I would be anyone's hero."

"Well, now you are," he said smiling.

I'm feeling pretty optimistic.

Love always,


Dear God,

I'd say Willy and I have a steady friendship going on. I wouldn't say it's official quite yet because we haven't done any of the "friends" stuff yet, like telling each other secrets and spending a late night out pigging out at Cold Stone. But, we're getting there.

Like today for example, he'd say "hello" whenever he saw me in the halls. This was always between lunch and 5th period. I would always run into him when I turn right from the cafeteria and he, left. His greetings varied too. One day he'd smile and wave and on some days he'd just nod with no expression on his face. I guess it all depends on his mood.

Whenever we had to partner up for soccer drills, he'd stroll right over to me and throw a soccer ball playfully at my head. I kick him in the shin for that. Not hard. Well, maybe I do kind of kick him hard. Can you blame me though? It's natural for me to kick that way.

Love always,


Dear God,

'Tis a sad day. A tragic, depressing, dismal day.

Willy has a girlfriend.

If you don't mind, I have moping I need to finish up.

Love always,


Dear God,

So as you know, I have been a depressed little piglet. Ever since I found out yesterday that Willy had a girlfriend, I've been seeing him with her around school a lot. She was pretty in my opinion. She had the long, flowing wavy chestnut hair and thin frame. They were made for each other. Seeing them together made my chest feel tight. I've decided that I don't like this feeling. Now when we are greeting in the halls, it was me who gave the nods without any expressions. He looked confused when I greeted him that way.

So today at conditioning, he cornered me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

I forced a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?" I said as casually as I could.

"You didn't wave at me today, you nodded. There's something wrong."

"Is it a crime to nod? You nod at me too on some days," I reminded him. "So why is me nodding, such a big deal?" And with that, he had nothing to say. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a fish.

"That's unattractive Willy," I said. I gave him one more of my forced smiles and walked away.

Conditioning took longer than usual; we stopped at around 6:30ish and the day had already gone dark. I took the quickest shower I had ever took in the locker, dried and clothed myself, and walked to the boardwalk near the beach, carrying my soccer stuff with me. I bought two caramel apples, sliced of course, and sat down on the sand watching the ocean.

The nice thing about moving here is the beach. They're so relaxing, surreal. Thank you for creating beaches, God.

I finished my first apple when I felt the sand shift beside me. I looked over, and surprisingly, it was Willy. He reached over and took a slice of my second apple.

"Hey!" I protested. I quickly grabbed my apples and held them protectively. "At least ask!"

Willy smirked through a mouthful of apple. He tossed his arm around my shoulder, as if I was his best friend, which I kind of wished.

"So about today," he said swallowing his apple. "What's wrong?" He reached for my apple, but I slapped his hand away.

"You trying to steal my caramel apple, that's what," I snapped.

"Calm down," he said.

"If you were smart, you would never tell a girl to calm down."

"Too bad I'm not, huh?"

"What are you doing here anyway?" I said. "I'm trying to relax and then you pop out of nowhere and ruin my peace."

Willy pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, which I happened to notice looked really, really, really soft.

Did I mention soft?

"Just passing by," he said, "and then I saw you sitting here. Just thought I should stop by and say hello."

"Liar," I said.

"What wrong?" he asked again, ignoring me. "I won't stop until you tell me."

I tucked a piece of unnatural red hair behind my ears. "Nothing you should be concerned with."

"Why not? We're friends, you can tell me."

That comment made my heart soar.

I turned to him and gave him a cheeky grin. "There's no need to tell. You saying that already made my day."

He smiled back. "Good."

"Do you mind telling me why you nod at me sometimes?" I asked.

He sighed, scratching his head. This caused his hair to fall into his hair. I resisted the urge to brush it away. It would so embarrassing if I did that right after he announced our friendship, don't you think?

"It's my girlfriend. Emily DuPont. You know her?"

I shook my head. Technically I didn't know her; I just knew how she looked like so you don't have to worry about me lying, God.

"What about her?"

He took a deep breath. "She's driving me crazy. This relationship is like bipolar, you know? It has multiple personalities."

"Hmm. How so?"

"One day, she'll be the typical girlfriend, all romance-obsessed and lovey-dovey and the next she's angry at me when I did nothing. Am I doing something wrong?"

"Well, maybe when she's lovey-dovey, as you say, maybe you should do something lovey-dovey for her. And maybe she's angry at you because you didn't do that," I suggested.

He was quiet, thinking over what I just said. And then he said, "You are a genius."

"Nice to know you think highly of me," I said, smiling. "And yes, I know."

Hmm, thanks for creating me with an ego.

Love always,


Dear God,

At the beginning of each day, it would suck. Pretty bad. Because of course, the girlfriend thing.

Could it be that I'm jealous? Duh, of course, that's the reason. At least now I know I don't have a denial problem. Why would I be jealous anyway? It's not like I would have a chance with him anyway, right? I had the hair the color of ketchup…well not really that red, but it's pretty red. And it's not my real hair color either.

And besides, we're already friends. Friends don't date.

Now, speaking of our newly-found relationship, it would be every day at practice when he'd immediately come and talk to me once I'm out on the field (I'm always first out the locker rooms, by the way). He'd work up a random subject and we'd chat away. For example, he brought up the topic of Halloween which occurred last week.

"What were you for Halloween?" he asked, grabbing a ball from his backpack and kicking it towards me.

"Well," I started, passing the ball back to him, "I was the scariest girl on my block."

"You dressed up as yourself?"

Angry, I kicked the ball so hard, it hit him on his head, bouncing back to me. Let me tell you this God, Willy's a tall guy.

"I'm kidding!" he said. "Ow," he added under his breath.

"I'm kidding too. I actually did dress up as myself."

Willy smirked.

"Now, what were you dressed as?" I asked him.

"Darth Vader," he said triumphantly. "I went up to every little kid I saw and told them I was their father."

I kicked the ball hard again. Not as hard as before, but still pretty hard. It bounced off from his thigh.

"That's mean!"

"I did make a kid cry," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Okay, so maybe 5," he admitted sheepishly.

I rolled my eyes at him. Why did you have to create boys as immature boiled eggs?

This still doesn't change the way I feel about Willy though.

He may be the mentally under-developed boy that he is, he still has other good qualities.

And for those qualities,

I think I may be falling for him.

Love always,


Dear God,

It's official.

I'm in love.

I have fallen so hard in love, my head hurts and my heart floats every time I think of him. Not a good combination, if you ask me.

So I have a question for you. Mind telling me why the fudge I fell in love with an idiot? Yes, God. I have fallen for an idiot.

But he's a kind, funny, very good-looking idiot, so that makes it okay.

I decided that it was official when we hung out today after practice. He seemed down, I noticed, when he asked if I wanted to grab some caramel apples. Like seriously? Why would anyone, stupid or not, deny caramel apples? As you may have predicted, I accepted his invitation. I also planned an intense interrogation in my head; I was going to crack whatever was bothering him wide open.

After we bought our apples, we headed to the beach. The sun was already setting, the day barely light and visible over the horizon. I was the first to grab one of the apples and eat it.

"So what's up?" I said through a mouthful of apple. "You seem out of it."

"We broke up," he said simply. That was one of the reasons why I love him. He gets straight to the point; he doesn't stall and make you nervous and jumpy for one verdict. He hits it to you in one swing.

"Really," I said, keeping my tone indifferent. He should never know that I'm secretly happy. "Who dumped who?" Please, don't ask why I asked that. It just came up. I mean, I'm new at this relationship thing when your friend tells you about their heartbreaking break-up and stuff.

He sat back on his hands. "She did. We got into a really big fight, up to the point where she wanted to end it. And that's what she did."

"Hmm," was all I said. I had no idea what to say after to that. I could ask why they were fighting, but I didn't want to be nosy, if you know what I mean. So I did what I thought was best: I dug my fingers into his sides and tickled.

He yelped in pain and rolled in the sand, away from me. When he sat up, he was shaking sand from his hair. "What was that for?" he demanded.

"That", I said pointing, "is my way of cheering you up." I grinned goofily at him while his expression remained completely surprised. His next look terrified me though. I ran.

My shoes were already off so the sand had the pleasure of exfoliating my tired feet. Thank God, for creating sand by the way.

I could tell that Willy was going easy on me because I was already breathing for my life while he was only getting started. He smirked evilly my way.

"You—" Gasp. "—wouldn't."

Watch me, he mouthed. And then he lunged at me. I, however, stood there like a deer caught in headlights. I tumbled to the ground, laughing extremely loudly as Willy's hands attacked me from my sides and stomach. I was about to burst. I tried to harm him through the act of tickling, but his strong arms stopped me from doing so. Stupid males and their abnormal strength.


Willy was laughing. "No!"

But soon, and I mean really soon, he stop and lied on my stomach, which hurt from laughing and from his merciless torture.

"Willy?" I said quietly. "You—"

"Could I just lie here for a while?" he asked quietly as the last of the light of the day disappeared.

I relaxed from under his head. "Yeah," I replied softly.

A couple of minutes into it, Willy had fallen asleep. I moved his head down to my lap so I could sit up. Watching him unconscious like that, it struck something inside of me. His hair was in the way of his closed eyes, so I did the favor of brushing it way with my fingers. His skin felt soft, warm; I wanted to touch him forever. Touching him made my heart float within my chest.

Swallowing, I just stared at him. With only the moonlight to see, I was still able to see every line, feature, flaw of Willy's face. He was perfect, in my humble opinion.

He was an idiot. An idiot for moping over some girl who wasn't worth his time. But I'm the idiot for falling in love with him.

Love always,


Dear God,

Thanksgiving flew by so fast that I wasn't able to enjoy it like I planned to. I mean, I did eat like a ravenous zombie (thank you for the food, by the way), but I wasn't able to do that one other thing. And that was to spend time with Willy.

Whenever I'm with him, time seems to take a vacation, making me enjoy our times more efficiently. It was weird, in a very good way. Anyways, I wasn't able to hang out with him because, well, because of our parents. It's so scary how they're alike: nagging, persistent, bossy. Typical of parents, right? But our parents are like, identical. So because of that, Willy and I had to go our separate ways for Thanksgiving. When we returned to school, we shared our stories of who ate the most, who puked from eating too much (who was me, by the way) and who lost to a pie-eating contest (that was Willy; I never lose). Interesting, really.

What's even more interesting is what happened during winter break.

Our parents met and immediately bonded like old pals who reunited long after high school graduation.

Which resulted, surprise surprise, in the fusion of our Christmas's.

It was pretty epic.

We held the Christmas party at his house, (since it was bigger and his parents were way more loaded than mine…not that I'm complaining about my parents) and it was pretty crazy. It was Christmas Eve, and the party didn't officially start until late, but despite the time it was really hectic. We did a lot of things: caroling (which I rocked at, by the way), dancing (which I rocked not so hard at, by the way), and eating (I got kicked out of the kitchen).

Willy's mom makes a mean sweet potato casserole.

Since I got kicked out of the kitchen for not reserving any food for the rest of the guests, I decided to take a break outside. So I grabbed my coat, hat, and mittens and headed outside. There wasn't much snow, which was why I was still clad in my socks, but it was still pretty darn cold.

I heard the door behind me open and saw Willy, flushed from dancing, holding a bowl of the delicious casserole out to me. "Heard you got kicked out from the kitchen," he smirked, holding up two spoons.

I rolled my eyes and took the bowl from him as well as a spoon. I started eating and Willy joined in soon after.

"So," I said with my mouth full, "fun party."

"No kidding," he said, his mouth full as well. "Man, this is like sex in the mouth," he commented on the food.

I moaned in agreement.

He grinned at me, a smile that made my heart melt and my knees to wobble like freshly-made jelly. Willy glanced upwards, to the moon I'm assuming, when an evil smirk suddenly appeared on his face.

"If you want to play tag," I said looking at his smirking face fearfully, "I don't have shoes to run in and I'll be damned if I freeze my toes off."

He shook head, amused. "Mistletoe," he said softly, pointing above us.

I swear God, my heart stopped.

"I'm not kissing you," I said immediately, even though truthfully I really, really, really, really wanted to. "We just ate."

"So?" he said. "For the sake of tradition and the Christmas spirit."

You had no idea how nervous I was. I was bound to pee in my new jeans which was a present from my Aunt Jackie from Chicago.

"Willy," I whined. "I have bad breath and I feel icky from dancing and—"

"Madison," he said, pronouncing my full name clearly. He only did that when he was acting serious. "It's only one kiss. No need to freak out," he smirked. He took the bowl and spoon away from my hands and set it on the ground. My heart would not stop pounding rapidly; it felt and sounded like the climax of an intense drum solo.

He lifted his ungloved, cold hand to cup my face and leaned in ever so slowly. He looked straight into my eyes, his eyes immediately reminding me of summer with the crystal blue water of the ocean crashing against the sand. A soft smile curled on his soft lips. "Merry Christmas, Maddie," he said softly. And then his lips connected with mine.

I didn't have time to reply back my Christmas greeting, much less react to what he was doing. So I did what I thought was best. With my mitten hands, I grabbed hold of his new sweater (which was a present from his grandmother in Tuscan) pulling him closer, and kissed him back.

Thank you for a wonderful Christmas, God.

Love always,


Dear God,

I am pissed.

So you know about my wonderful Christmas, yes? How that moment when Willy kissed me, I felt even more close to him. We were inseparable after that night; we spent the last days of our winter break together. But now, now that break is over, he's ignoring me. Yes, you've read right. Willy is ignoring me.

I don't even know what I did wrong. You know how we always say hi to each other after lunch? When he saw me, his eyes widened, and he walked quickly in the opposite direction. I was confused at first because I thought he saw his ex-girlfriend or something, but it continued for the rest of the week. Same happened at soccer; I'm thinking he bribed the girls or something because all of a sudden they wanted to be my partner for drills.

I think we both know that no one wants to be my partner for soccer.

So I've come to the conclusion that someone, namely Willy, is bribing them.

What has gotten into the boy?

One day after practice, I marched up to him. I borrowed a soccer ball from the storage room and kicked it hard enough so that it bounced off his back. He spun around, a confused expression on his face. When he saw me, his eyes widened.

"What's going on with you?" I demanded angrily, going over to pick up the soccer ball.

"I—"he started but I interrupted him.

"You've been ignoring me for the past week and I haven't even done anything that's worth ignoring!" I went on.

"Wait, Maddie—"

"Do you have any idea how much you're pissing me off right now? You're blowing me off for no apparent reason and you're finding all kinds of ways to steer clear of me! You've even bribed the soccer girls!"

"Okay, hold on now, I did not—"

"I'm tired of your"—excuse my French—"and your crap about us being friends, because of what you've been showing me these past few days. Are we friends, Willy? You told me yourself that we were." I ran a hand through my hair which I took out of a ponytail not too long ago. The wind blew gently, causing my hair to scatter over my face. I tucked it behind my ear. I noticed Willy taking a sharp intake of breath, watching me.


I took a step closer to him. "Are we friends?" I repeated again. I searched through his blue eyes, looking for any signs of what he was feeling at the moment.

My heart stopped when he answered.


In the bad way.

That sad part was that that was all he said. He didn't add anything to that; it was just a simple "no". I felt my heart crumble into a pile of cookie crumbs.

I stared at him a moment longer, waiting if he had anything else to say. When he didn't I threw the ball lightly at his head, as if knocking some sense into him and walked home.

He never ran after me.

Love always,


Dear God,

Prom is approaching, and I have every intention of going.

Kind of.

Only problem is that I'm dateless, and it would be so awkward for me to arrive and witness every girl hand in hand with their perfect dates. But it was decided that I was going to kick it with the soccer girls who were going as friends.

Dress shopping was awkward for me, considering that I haven't touched a dress since my elementary school graduation. But the girls from the future soccer team were really helpful. And wise, very, very wise. Because we started talking about dates.

"So why aren't you going to prom with a date?" Angie asked, the brunette with short hair asked me. "I don't see why a girl like you should go to the prom without a date."

I was appalled. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, offended.

Carey laughed, a blonde with a pixie cut. "She means to say that you're pretty Mads."

"Oh. Thanks I guess."

"So why don't you have a date?" Angie asked again.

I sighed. "Because I don't want one."

"Aww, now, why is that?" Carey asked. "I've seen some of the hottest guys come up to you ask."

"Funny how I turned all of them down, huh?" I said.

"Hot guys? Who?" Angie asked curiously.

"Randy Anderson, Bobby Winters, Zach Kline…but that's just a couple," Carey informed her.

"Holy—Randy Anderson? That man is a walking sex god," Angie exclaimed.

"I know, if you're into the whole blonde, surfer-type. And Maddie here turned him down."

"Are you crazy?" Angie cried.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I replied triumphantly.

"Who would be proud to be crazy?" Angie asked.

"I'm not proud," I said quietly, "just stupid. A stupid, stupid idiot."

"Aww, sweetheart, now why is that?" Angie asked, sounding sincerely concerned.

"Some stupid guy," I mumbled.

"Willy?" supplied Carey.

"H-how'd you know? No one's supposed to know," I said, surprised.

"Oh please! Everyone in soccer knows about the chemistry you share with Mann. It's basically what we all watch every day at practice, even the coaches."

"Wait, what?" I asked bewildered. "You're meaning to tell me that you guys have been watching us stuff balls into our shirts and pretend that we're cranky pregnant women?"

"And trip each other with the soccer balls like little children," Carey said.

"And laugh like maniacs when you guys throw soccer balls at each other," Angie added. "I mean, who does that?"

"Anyways," Carey said, "what's going on between you two? Everyone's been deprived of entertainment now at practices."

"Willy isn't my friend anymore," I said quietly and sadly. "He told it to my face that we weren't friends anymore."

"What the hell?" Angie said.

"That's what I thought," I said. "Everything was just fine until winter break was over."

"Did anything significant happen over break?" Carey asked.

"Does keeping up with tradition count?" I asked.

"Now, what would that be?" Angie asked.

Immediately, my face flushed into the color of cranberry sauce served during the holidays. Both of the girls raised their eyebrows at me, curious.

Rushed and fast-like I replied, "Wekissedunderthemistletoe."

Both of them had wolfish grins on their face.

"I'm sorry," Angie said sarcastically, leaning in her ear to me, "I only caught 'kissed' and 'mistletoe'. Do you mind repeating what you just said?"

Darn girls decided to play dirty. "Mistletoe the under kissed we," I replied, the blush never leaving my face.

Their amused grins only widened. "You know," Carey said, "that means something."

"You don't even know what I just said," I said, confident in my code-speaking methods.

"You guys kissed under the mistletoe," Angie said as if it was obvious.

Okay, so maybe I'm not so confident after all.

"That means something," Carey repeated. "Willy doesn't kiss just any girls."

"It was tradition," I mumbled, still blushing madly.

"It doesn't matter if it's tradition; if it was just any girl, he'd find an excuse, any excuse, to not kiss her. Remember the Christmas party two years ago?"

Angie nodded solemnly.

"He told the poor girl that he had a cold sore on the inside of his lip. However, if it's a special girl—cough, cough—such as yourself, it's a whole different story."

"I'm not special," I mumbled.

"Aww sweetie! Of course you are! Don't you see yourself right now? You're gorgeous, funny, in a weird, immature way, and you're sweet. That's exactly Willy's type."

I don't know about you God, but hearing this gave me some sort of hope.

Oh! And if found the perfect dress.

Love always,


Dear God,

It's prom. And I've got the jitters in my bones. Both from the cold and my nerves. Spring has barely arrived, so the bitterness of winter still lingered. And you know what else is funny? The prom is being held at the beach, outside, while the world is still unreasonably freezing.

I stared at myself in the mirror once last time before I left my house to board the limo with my friends. The dress that I have chosen was white with spaghetti straps. The dress was down to my knee caps, a reasonable length for a dress in my opinion. A shimmery sash was tied around at the waist where a medium-sized bow was created at the back. It's really cute.

My hair wasn't really done any different, except the fact that I didn't straighten it, like I usually do. I left it the way it was after my shower which resulted in soft waves. The faint light didn't bring out the intensity of the red in my hair like the sun did, which was a good thing, because now my hair appeared more auburn than fire. I rarely wore make-up, but I made an exception for this night. Just a bit of shadow, liner, and mascara did the trick. I even dusted on a thin layer of blush to add some color to my pale complexion. I omitted the lip gloss and stick.

After deciding that I was decent, I grabbed my black cardigan as my source of warmth and joined my friends for prom.

We arrived "fashionably late", as Angie puts it. The dance was already booming with jumpy music and the punch bowl half-empty. The mini buffet they had out was already running low on food. This, of course, was very disappointing for me. But it's not as if high school food was worth moping over. It especially does not compare to what I witnessed two minutes later. Willy was dancing with Emily, his ex-girlfriend…or girlfriend. It was a very affectionate-looking dance; he had his arm wrapped securely around her waist and her head rested lovingly on his shoulder.

I watched them for a couple of seconds longer, my heart hurting with each second, before I turned around and walked away from the dance. Tears were threatening to spill over.

I found an area on the beach far, but not too far away from the dance. I took off my sandals and placed them beside me when I sat down on the sand. The dark ocean appeared so scary now; you know what I mean God? It looked so massive, so wide, like it would swallow me up.

And it might as well. I was miserable anyway.

Stupid Willy Mann and his pretty eyes and his shiny hair and his soft lips—

A soccer ball rolled to my feet. I furrowed my eyebrows, obviously confused. And then I looked in the direction from where it rolled at. Willy was standing there in his 6'1" glory with his hands in his pockets of his white pants. I hadn't earlier how amazing he looked. Unlike everyone else, Willy opted for a white tuxedo. It just looked so…good on him. If I weren't honest, I'd say I would've jumped his bones then and there. But then I remembered: I was angry at him for saying we're not friends.

I glared at him, grabbed my sandals, and got up to walk towards the dance. I heard a sound, the sound of feet coming in contact with a ball. The ball bounced off from my thigh. I gripped my shoes tightly, getting annoyed at his actions. I paused, my toes squirming in the sand, before I continued on my way. But the soccer ball kept coming. Suddenly, I threw down my sandals and spun around angrily at Willy. He had a small smirk on his pretty face.

With my bare foot, I kicked the ball as hard as I could. It wasn't a great kick, but it wasn't bad either. It hit Willy on the chest, staining his tuxedo a little bit. He brushed it off with his hands and proceeded to pass the ball back to me.

Frustrated and not wanting to kick the ball because my toes were hurting, I picked up the ball and stalked over to Willy. I pushed him roughly with the ball, causing him to stumble backwards which in turn caused him to grabbed hold of my arms to steady himself. He pulled me closer to him, making me drop the ball and my heart to pound rapidly. His face was dangerously close to mine.

"Madison…" he said quietly. Bad, bad sign. He used my full name.

A lump rose in my throat. He was already hurting me with the way he said my name.

I pulled away roughly and ambled away from him. He grabbed my wrist, slowly moving down to my hand where his fingers laced with mine. He held tightly to make sure I would not run away. The action sent volts of electricity through my arm. I tried prying his fingers away but to no avail. I glared at him who looked at me back with amusement.

"What are you doing Willy? What happened to not being friends, huh?" I spat. He winced at my tone, and I kind of regretted for being so harsh with him. When he didn't answer, I grew even angrier. Tears were already forming in my eyes. "Let go," I growled, my voice shaky.

Still he held on.

Somewhere inside me, I was flattered that he wasn't giving up but most of me was just darned confused.

"No," was his answer. Just like his answer when I asked him about our relationship.

Swallowing, I looked up at him, no longer glaring. "What? What do you want from me Willy? First you were all nice and you started pushing me away and now you won't let go. Stop confusing me! And for the sake of my frozen toes, stop hurting me." The tears have already fallen by now. "It's already bad enough that I'm in love with you."

Oh, I know. You're probably thinking crap.

My eyes widened at my slip. When I glanced up at him, his eyes were wide too. I pulled as hard as I could away from him and took off running. It was seconds later when I heard footsteps follow me. His hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around. I crashed into his chest, and his arms wrapped around me protectively. He was warming my arms and…my heart without realizing it.

The tears wouldn't stop running. "Willy, let me go, or so help me—"

He pulled me back so he could cup my face. And before I could register anything, he was kissing me. I found myself responding back, slowly, my eyes fluttering close. My arms slowly wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. He nibbled on my bottom lip before pulling away, breathless, just like I was.

"You're confusing me again," I breathed, "and possibly hurting—"

"I love you," he panted.

I pulled back so that I could stare him square in the eyes.

"What?" I couldn't believe my ears.

He chuckled at my reaction. He held my face with both of his hands and brought me closer to him so that our foreheads were touching. He whispered again, "I love you."

"Now you're just confusing me," I said lamely. Instead of laughing though, Willy smiled warmly at me.

"Remember when you asked me if we were friends?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I said no because…I didn't want us to be friends," he replied.

"You wanted to be more," I finished for him.


"Wait, I saw you and Emily earlier—"

"She was helping me, actually. With you," he answered.

That added on to my confusion.

"Remember when I told you that she dumped me?"

I nodded dumbly again.

"I actually dumped her. Because I started developing feelings for you. It wouldn't have been fair to Emily," he informed me. "So I broke up with her. She was aware of my feelings for you too, so she decided to help me." He brushed a strand of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. "That dance earlier was to make you jealous."

I narrowed my eyes at him and punched him, hard, in the chest. "Well it worked," I said to him angrily. He rubbed the sore area with his hand.

He grinned goofily and scooped me in his arms, squeezing the life out of me. But I didn't mind. I didn't mind at all. He set me down and said huskily in my ear, "Be my girlfriend?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "We just confessed our love to each other, Willy. Do you need to ask me to be your girlfriend?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "To make it official, dummy."

Say God, I guess you do have a reason for everything you do =]

Love always,