Playing Matchmaker

chapter fifteen

Damn Nate.

Halfway through the date, he made the ice rink play Emily's favourite song and asked her to be his girlfriend.

We all know what Little Miss Horny replied with.

I can just imagine it.

"Oh Emily, will you be my girlfriend through thick and thin, until death or marriage do us part?" Nate looks up at Emily with googly eyes, raping her face with his infatuating and entrancing blue eyes.

"Nate," Emily growled with lust, "Take me now. I'll be your girlfriend only then, you have to prove to me you're worth it."

Then, they skated to the side of the rink and bumped uglies against the freezing cold ice, their ass cheeks frozen together. But, it was okay because it was all for love.

The end.

Okay, in the end he just asked her, she said yes and bam, it's a cliché fairy-tale story. Two best friends fall in love, yada yada ya, they kiss they bump uglies then they have kids.

So boring.

I'm more into the fast life, you know? The kind of relationship where there's none of that mushy 'I love you', 'no, I love you more baby' shit. Please, I would rather stab my eyes out with forks and eat them for breakfast than ever talk like that. I'm more into the thrill, testing limits and patience and causing a hell of a load of trouble. I'd like to have a boyfriend that is also my partner in crime and best friend. I don't know, I'm just so not romantic-no wonder boys don't want to date me.

"NOVA!" A voice screamed from a distance. I snapped out of my reverie, stumbling over a piece of wood in the front yard of my house. Why it was there, I don't know? "Jeez, you full on spaced out," Emily yelled back with an amused smirk on her face. "Thinking about the meal after dinner?"

Huh? I looked at her confusedly, to which she waved it off, saying that there is no use explaining herself because it's never funny the second time you say it.

Wow, I have weird friends.

Nevertheless, I continued my trek over the road to Tyler's house. It was long, exhausting and I'm totally parched. Because, you know, walking fifteen metres is completely and utterly insane and heartbreaking.

I stared ahead at Tyler's house. It's the same size and layout as mine, except it's made out of a darker coloured brick than mine and Nate's. His front yard is well kept, the grass kept neatly trimmed (I would know, it's a lovely sight to see Tyler mowing some mornings) with a flower bed either side of the small pathway leading up to the average sized house. The two storey building was identical to the one beside it. I'm pretty sure a girl in freshman year lives to the left and a boy in middle school is on his right.

I was about to knock on the door, but someone beat me to it. Tyler opened the door, a distressed look furrowed on his face. He mouthed 'help' and put a finger up to his neck, drawing a line with it and fake choking.

I giggle slightly-giggle, ugh, I hate that word more than I hate mushiness-and tuck an annoying strand of hair behind my ear.

"Honey, who is it?" A voice who I presume is his mother's calls from inside the house. Then, the door opens wide and she is popping her head outside of it too see what is outside.

"Nova," she greets warmly. Sandra Bradford is Tyler's mom. I know her from when I used to babysit Elsa, but we only saw each other briefly due to the fact that I was there to baby sit not socialise. "I'm so glad Tyler brought a girl over, for a second I was thinking he was swinging in the other directions," she over exaggerates her winks to which I laugh briefly at, a smile pulling at my lips.