“Ack!” I looked up from my book, over to Sarah; laying on the floor, on her back. “Ow…” She said, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head. “Sarah, you’re such the klutz.” Closing my book, I got up from my chair, that sat by the fire place, and walked over to her. “S-sorry Cherry,” She said, tearing up. “I was trying to put up the books and tripped over my skirt,” She sniffed. I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t see why you insist on wearing long skirts in the first place.” I replied, leaning over to look at the back of her head. Possibly a small bruise, I thought to myself. But nothing more. “But why bother picking up my mess any ways?” I asked, leaning back to look at her.

“Honestly!” She exclaimed. “How do you expect to have anybody over and them not thinking ‘what a mess’?” She pouted, starting to pick up the books and stuff she dropped and knocked over. I sighed, setting my book aside and helping her. “You should know by now,” I stated, “I have no intentions having anybody in my room. You, is one thing. Anybody else, not so much.” I paused, reaching over to grab a book beside her. “Having guests over in the living room or kitchen or –” Sarah’s up raised hand cut me off. “Okay, I get that — but what about boys?” She asked, adding emphasizes on ‘boys’.” Do you not plan to have a boy over and have a romantic evening. With candle’s and wine and flowers?” Sarah said, all dream like. I looked at her a moment, raising a delicate eyebrow at her silly romantic dreams. “No, Sarah, I don’t.” The look on her face — priceless. Her mouth dropped and eyes widened as if someone slapped her. Heh, I wish I had a camera.

“Cherry, out of all the girls I’ve met, I have to say: You. Are. Crazy.”

“Because I don’t care for romantic dreams?”

“No — because I don’t ever see you date or hear you say a boys cute, let alone, look at one!”

I sighed, not really caring for where this conversation is heading. Holding the books in my hands, I stood up, walking to the bookcase. “Well… what’s wrong with that?” I asked, putting the books up. “Because it’s not normal!” Sarah said, following me to the bookcase with her own stack of books. She glanced at me, waiting for my reply. But I didn’t give any, remaining silent and shrugged. She sighed audibly putting up the books she was holding.

“Look,” She said as she finished putting the books up then turning to look at me. “You’re very pretty and it’s obvious you and everyone knows that. A bunch of boys at school likes and/or have crushes on you.” She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “But, yet, you treat them as you would anybody you meet for the first time or you’re friends.”

Putting the last book in my hand up, I looked at her.

“So?”

“So… What is it? Are you scared, shy, nervous, inexperience with relationships?” I laughed out loud from the look on her face. “I’m being serious, Cherry!” She said as she followed me to gather the rest of the mess she made. “I know, I know. And that’s why I’m laughing. You’re so serious about this boy-romantic-love stuff.”

“Of course I am, I just can’t help seeing my friend not with a boy and wanting to get married and have kids and –” She stopped and looked at me slyly. I looked at her, confused. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, not liking the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” She grinned, stacking some papers together. I narrowed my eyes looking at her.

“Is it that… You’re a virgin?”

“Wha — no. Of course not.” I said, momentarily taken aback. Far from it, actually. But I’ll keep that to myself.

“Then what is it? I know your parent’s couldn’t possibly have made you this way or set such an example.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean: You’re parents are madly in love, everyone sees it and lots are jealous of it. Always trying to get you to meet boys and saying how they can’t wait to have grandchildren. So what is it?” I sighed. “Sarah… We have had this conversation numerous times and I –” She cut me off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah — ‘I don’t want to hear it’. I get it. But I know there’s more to it then you’re letting on. Is it because you’re a tomboy and you find it awkward?”

“Why figure it’s because I’m a tomboy? I never said anything like that.” I shook my head, rubbing my temples. Boy this is giving me a headache. “I just don’t care for dating or anything. To me: It’s a waste of time.” I stood up and put a stack of papers on the table. “How can you say that?” Sarah said, looking at me with such shock on her pretty face, I ’bout started to laugh. Instead, I took a deep breath, smiled, and as nice as I can, without it sounding offensive or hurtful, said, “Sarah, why worry of my love life and not yours?” She lowered her eyes at me.

“Nice try but you’re not changing the subject this time. Besides, I have bad luck when it comes to love, you know that.” I sighed, pushing my bangs out of my face glancing toward my window. It was ten o’clock and the moon was out. No clouds in sight so the stars could be seen perfectly. I looked at Sarah. She was very pretty. Heart shaped face, round baby blue eyes, reddish-brown hair that came an inch or two above her waist, cute freckles that danced across her nose, 5’3, and weighed about 120 pounds. So it’s not so much that she ‘has bad luck with love’, just bad luck choosing the right guys. Asshole’s who I had to kick their asses later for hurting her.

“Cherry, I hate it when you stare at me like that.” She stated, between pursed lips.

“Sorry.” I paused. “Look, Sarah, I know you’re just worried and what-not. But I don’t see what’s the point of it all.”

“The point is –” I held up a finger at her, cutting her off. “I know what you were about to say. That ‘To be happy and loved and live happily ever after, blah blah blah’. But, like I said: I think it’s a waist of time. Everything comes with a price — even so called love. I don’t want to fall in love ’cause people tend to get emotional. And you know I hate that, just by watching you, and others I care for, cry over heartache or pain.” She opened her mouth to say something, but I hurried on. “Then you have to deal with, not always, but a hit and run. And the other saying ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘it just wasn’t working’ or ‘we were only having fun’. Plus, the stupid shit that happens on the side.