Let's Pretend We Never Happened

Piper Jameson. That’s my name.  

I’m not someone famous, or anyone special, if you’re trying to think of how you could know me.

Because truth is, you wouldn't.

Piper Jameson. What do you think when you hear my name?

You probably think I'm no one. One of the many wallflowers in this great American nation. 

Piper. A unisex name that probably reminds you of the creepy fairytale guy who stole all the children from that town.

I always wanted a unique name. Maybe Leighton, or Rosalie. Maybe even Edelyn.

But my mother thought that Brittany Piper Jameson was a perfect name for her little big eyed, brown haired chubby daughter.

And since, by the time I had turned 3, I was still unable to pronounce Brit-ta-ny, my mom just started calling me Piper.

And then she passed away. And I was left an orphan.

My dad had always been out of the picture.

But let's get back to the topic.  

If I were you, the first thought in my head would be: Why do I care about her?

Well I guess you don’t have any reason to.

But if you were to sit in a particularly comfy spot, and you just happen to be eating some nice food or listening to some good music, you might find my life quite entertaining.

People love to talk about themselves. And I’m no exception. I’m here to tell you a story.

And you might be able to tell I’m not some old grandma sitting in front of her grandchildren telling them an agonizing tale of how she became the person she is today. 

I’m actually telling you this the same night that it all ended. Or rather, started.

Let me clarify.

This is a rather, un-cliché romance.

A romance that’s not cliché? How surprising, right? Well to be honest, it does have its moments.  

And get this. It actually happened to me. I’m not just sitting here, in this quite...jazzy...cafe, making up a crazy story because my life is really boring.

No. This is my reality.

And get this too. I'm not hoping to turn into the next Meg Cabot, or Sarah Dessen or any of those other accomplished romance novel authors. I'm not here to hopefully make millions and sign countless amounts of copies of this to-be-book.

I'm just here, trying to register everything that's happened to me. 

And I don’t really know why I’m telling you this. I just feel like...someone needs to know.

I don’t really know if the decisions I made are the right ones. So maybe this will help me.

Maybe you’ll say I’m right, maybe you’ll say I’m wrong.

So let me start this story. I guess I’ll have to start with a summary, right? The thing that makes you not want to leave. What that makes you actually listen.

I was an orphan, living with my childhood friend-turned-boyfriend, Brennan, and his mother in the lower middle class area of New York.

I went to a less than amazing school, knew less than amazing people, and lived in a less than amazing place.

All I wanted in my life was to be happy and I thought that being rich and living that kind of lifestyle would earn me happiness. 

Truth is, when people say ‘money can’t buy you happiness’, they’re just poor and need a way to make them content. Money did make me a bit happy. I wasn’t a gold digger or anything. I just got lucky.

I was always fascinated by the Upper East Side life of New York. You know, the kind of people who lived on the penthouse floor of  huge skyscrapers, and went to private schools that basically bought them into Ivy League Universities. 

And so, I entered for a scholarship to the best Private School in America. St. Andreas.

And as the story always works, I got in.

 But what I didn’t expect was to fall in love...again.

I was shocked by how I felt when I met the billionaire’s son, Landon Kutchin. He was nothing like I wanted my soul mate to be. All my life, I was determined that my boyfriend, Bren, was my soul mate and now, I didn't know who I loved.

And then the time came where I had to chose between the guy who always loved me and the guy who just started loving me.

They gave me one year.

One year to pick one guy and break the other's heart. And the one I don't pick would act as if he had never met me. The two- me and him- would simply pretend that they never happened.

Here's the story of how I said "Let's Pretend We Never Happened" and it starts with a rather messy food fight.