Sometimes I wonder if love is really all it's made out to be. I mean, yeah, people say you can only understand it once you've had it, but still, I don't think I could ever really open up to anyone like I'd like too.

I can't imagine myself with someone-us. Together. Alone. Just sitting on the couch watching a kids movie, laughing. I can't even imagine the feeling of holding the hand of someone I really care about-that's all I really want.

But, in any case, this feeling of pure enjoyment of another persons life has never reached my heart.

Or, at least not yet, anyways.

"Hey! Miyuki, you're going to the fall dance, right?" Akira asked, running up from behind me on the walk home from school. She's been obsessed with dances ever since we started high school. In middle school, we were always the two girls that no one bothered to ask, mostly because we'd always turn them down.

So we made a tradition of not going, until recently. Ever since Akira's first boyfriend, freshman year, her entire demeanor has changed and her appearance. The old Akira used to have light brown hair with a few blonde highlights. But now it's black, and she's going for more of an 'emo' approach.

"Akira, the answer will forever be no," I replied, attempting to brush her off. "It's the same answer I told you the last time you asked."

I mean, she's my best friend and all, I think? But she's been shoved up her new boyfriend's ass lately, and it's really starting to piss me off that she only talks to me when she feels like it.

"Come on Miyuki," she whined, grabbing my arm. "If you'd drop your standards a little and respond when guys talk to you, there would be tons of people wanting to go out with you!" She started walking beside me, begging in her annoying, pleading tone.

"You think I should drop my standards?" I asked, gritting my teeth and pulling my arm from her hands. She's trying really hard to piss me off, and it's working exceptionally well. My standards aren't even that harsh. If a guy is friendly, funny, loyal, and attractive, then I'm all for him. Yeah, I'm aware that the guy of my dreams may not even exist, but the day I lower my standards for a potential boyfriend is the day I die. Besides, Akira's current boyfriend, Masumi, is at the top of the standards she wants me to have. He's rude, ignorant, and not even remotely attractive. He doesn't even try to associate with any of her friends, and makes no effort to engage in any kind of social contact with them.

"If you drop them," -meaning my ever-so-high standards- "you could get a man like Masumi!" she beamed.

I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from barfing.

"Ok. Look," I began. "I. Am. Not. Going. To any dances. Nor am I dropping anything or changing anything about myself to suit someone else. Therefore, you can stop trying to 'hook me up' with every other guy that's single in the school, and you can stop these insane talks you keep having with me about needing a boyfriend," I explained rather harshly. I clinched my hands around my messenger bag strap to prevent myself from hitting her and shot her a glare that said, rather clearly, I was done talking.

She stopped following me after that.

I made it home and walked through the door straight upstairs to my room. I don't bother telling anyone I'm home anymore. My mother is always dead asleep; my dad's usually at work, and my siblings don't even notice I'm alive until they need something.

In my room, I flung my bag across the room and into the corner by my desk. Then I took out my phone from my pocket and began to randomly stalk people on social media sites. This went on until I fell asleep and accidentally dropped my phone on my face. "Owww..." I groaned, standing up and rubbing my nose and cheek bone where it had hit. I figured I might as well take a shower now, just in case my unreliable phone didn't wake me up at the right time in the morning, and I refused to look unclean in public, or in private, for that matter.

Once I had taken my shower, the night had passed by rather quickly. In the morning, my PMSing phone, as predicted, didn't wake me up on time, which, I must say, is not surprising in the least. I had to get dressed, skip breakfast, and run like I was being chased by a herd of angry bulls, to get the school. I entered the front gates when the bell rang. Seeing as how I was already late for 1st period, I figured I might as well fix my hair in the bathroom before I go. With that, I mindlessly walked into the building and to the bathroom to brush out my long whip-lashed silvery hair, which perfectly paired with my light blue eyes.

Walking out of the bathroom, I saw a group of boys on the other end of the hallway. I'm not a popular person, so they don't know me-except for maybe two of them-but I know their names. Not by choice, but because I don't forget names easily. Walking past them wasn't a problem. Ignoring people and shooting them death glares tends to make people respect you, even if it's only enough to get them to move out of your way in the hallway.

Every little bit counts...

As I passed them, I overheard their conversation. Well, not exactly overheard, more like listened in, but anyway, they said something about a new transfer student.

I've learned not to get my hopes up that it will be a guy that's just my type or any fairy tale thing like that so I brush it off and move on with my day.