The Book I Can't Come Up With A Name For

Emily : The Beginning

Alright so in every book I've read they've always had to explain things or else you're just confused because you have no idea what the fuck is happening at all and if they didn't explain it would be a horrible book and you shouldn't be reading it (kind of like this book). So this chapter is basically how Daniel and I met. And if your still reading, which is a great way to waste your time, sit tight and listen to the past.

There was a lot that happened, like a shit ton of stuff. But, I guess everything really started the night of the Football Game, but to explain that I have to explain Abigail.

I guess I could say Abigail is my—was my best friend. We met in second grade and it was one of those relationships that people have when they're pretty much stuck with the other one. We liked each other, sort of, and we kinda just were always together. So yeah, Abigail's my best friend. We had another friend, Isabella, but she moved. We called Isabella, Izzy and Abigail was Abby, they wanted to call me Em but I just told them no. They were always closer to each other than me. But Isabella moved and yet, Abigail and I stuck together. Abigail always wanted to be popular. She just never was. She probably could've been popular, but she wasn't gonna just leave me. At our school Abigail and I are sort of drama nerds, we always have been, ever since last year, freshmen year. That was our group the Drama Group. I have a lot of friends, I really do. People I eat with, people I hang out with outside class or inside class. But Abigail and I are best friends, best friends who don't know each other at all.

Abigail was always outgoing. She wanted to be the lead in the plays at school, she played soccer, she was in too many clubs and committees to count, she was simply a person who had to be busy. When she quit soccer she became a cheerleader. At my school no one likes the cheerleaders, but Abigail insisted on doing it. Abigail is very pretty, I'm not gonna lie I've wanted to be her before. She has this long curly red hair. Its not fiery, its not even that bright, its this deep red that you can't help but stare at. Her hair is gorgeous. And her eyes are deep emerald, with little chips of brown close to her pupil. She doesn't wear make up because it would be too obvious with her freckles, which she has a massive amount of. But, she does wear this very light pink lipstick, thats her only makeup. She knows that she's gorgeous, but yet she complains about her "thunder thighs" and "baby fat." Bad self-esteem is like a sickness that has swept across america, its practically expected that girls feel bad about themselves, I know I do.

I'm 5'6" and I'm a brunette with straight hair. My hair goes down to my hips because between the ages of 7 - 12 I just completely refused to cut my hair, whatsoever. When I had my first boyfriend, Michael, he would always tell me he loved my hair, he would play with it and stuff, he just loved my hair I guess. It was a pretty bad break up, but I didn't cry, I only dated him because Abigail told me to. But that's a story for another time. My eyes are brown. I wouldn't say that I'm pretty, I'm "cute." I'm definitely not ugly.

Abigail has always tried to get me involved in her events because she feels guilty leaving me behind on Friday and Saturday nights. She would ask me to go to the pizza place a block from campus on late nights, or she would say she had a hot double date for us and beg me to come. I usually would make an excuse, "no sorry, got this massive A.P Euro test Monday and I'm gonna be locked in my room studying all weekend," or "Sorry I'm just really not feeling," or even, "No." The thing she mostly asked me was to go to the Friday Night Football game. I never could grasp football, your standing in the cold watching people knock each other over and over again and again after they've huddled together for 30 minutes to work out the exact same play they performed 30 minutes before they huddled and your freezing but somehow people can still find it entertaining. Anyways, I never wanted to see football.

But this particular football game had a different conversation:

"Emily!" She walks like a model over to me in her 3 inch high-heels she wears to school (which in my opinion is the stupidest idea a person has ever had, not only are high-heels uncomfortable but walking around in them all day is just plain idiotic.)