She’s just amazing. If I might say, she’s perfect in every way – she’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s modest, she’s loyal. She also happens to have the best sarcasm I’ve ever witnessed in a girl, these perfect greenish eyes that entrances a guy better than any blue and chocolate-colored hair that short-circuits my senses. And
she’s nice to everyone, even Harley and his gang. Imagine that. What remotely sane person would actually step out of his or her way to be even civil to that foul git of an idiot and his fellow gorillas? A person with a few bolts missing, and apparently, May. She’s really the best girl in the whole school, undisputed. Scratch that, she’s the best girl in the whole world!
And my overwhelming flattery has nothing at all to do with the fact that I am completely, irrevocably in love with her. To say infatuation would be an understatement; I am truly in love with the girl, not only for her looks though that indeed is a well-appreciated bonus, but for the wonderful person she is.
Oh Lord, I'm a sap now!
There’s just one small hitch: she hates me.
I’m perfectly aware that we cannot have everything in life; otherwise the human populace would be buried alive underneath layers of Wii's, NDS’, Xbox’s and god only knows what. Still, it seems somewhat unreasonable to be capable of charming every female in the entire country except, just except – for her. Pathetic, I’m aware of it. The one and only
girl who matters to me is the one and only
girl who rejects me. This is the exact reason why Drew Hayden, female magnet, spends every school dance leaning next to the punch bowl looking dour, showing no evident features of life except for the occasional rearranging of hair, enduring the internal torture that comes from the much-expected refusal by May Maple.
Admittedly, I believe that she has yet to know the way I feel about her, due to the fact that she is insanely determined to hate me and that I seem to make a right fool of myself whenever she is concerned. To be honest, I usually retain some degree of maturity, which even Paul admits, though he mentioned it being somewhat miniscule. Yet, when I attempt to converse with May in any manner, maturity appears to have deserted me and it ends up with her hating me even more.
Enlighten me, what hath thou wrought that merits such punishment?
I confess our first meeting didn’t go so well, but spare me – I was twelve at the time. Gary and I were cracking jokes all the while during our first-day orienteering purely for the sake of transforming our little procession into something less resembling a funeral march. No offence meant, but I swear that our teacher must have had a robot for a grandfather or something. Anyway, everybody was enjoying our irresistible humor when May turned on us, and that was the moment I had my first breathtaking glimpse of her. So breathtaking, in fact, that I almost missed her first address to me. Or it might have been to Gary, since he was the one rambling on something about blue cheese and black stockings.
“Can’t you two be quiet?!”
Not the best of starts, perhaps, but naturally, slight trivialities like that did not put me off. I responded by telling her not to worry her pretty head about the matter and somehow, that infuriated her even more and she retaliated even more hotly with unwarranted sarcasm. The argument persisted with me smiling widely and slightly flirting, Gary slipping in smooth comments, while she practically blew her top and mentioned something along the lines of ‘dense imbecile’ on Gary’s part and what sounded like ‘insufferably arrogant’ on mine.
No doubt, this attracted the attention of our lovely teacher who proceeded to land the three of us in detention first day, which everyone thought was an admirable record and earned us quite a few hearty cheers as we made our way to detention class that afternoon. May, however, was less than overjoyed, and spent the majority of her time in detention glaring at us. Gary responded by sharing with her the volume of his smirk while I gave her a somewhat apologetic look and blew her a kiss. She, in turn, responded by giving us the finger and looking no less hostile.
Ah well. She’s been reserving all these adorable nicknames for me, Gary and Ash ever since, for instance, ‘moron’ and ‘jerk’, to name just a few. Bless her.
She doesn’t call Paul that; nor Brendan, for that matter. In fact, they get along with her quite well, Paul especially, since he bears the mantle of a prefect as do I, and May’s one too. Truth be told, I myself have only just become consciously aware of the sad revelation that I currently am supposed to be a responsible leader of students, but that would be a story for another occasion.
Anyway, the system decrees that the prefects patrol in pairs, and Paul, the lucky bloke that he was, was paired up with May herself. That is, until I skillfully coerced him to switch places with me, to which he agreed, but not without advising me to make an attempt at being mature beforehand. Naturally, I gave him my solemn word that I would, and there I was the next day walking right next to May with a mildly triumphant air and a broad grin plastered upon my face, much to her chagrin.
Unfortunately, she did not take my presence too well, and within the week she, on true May form, lost what was left of her little patience and started admonishing me loudly in front of a crowd of terrified year eight’s. I can't remember the exact details, but she was mostly raving on about what an egotistical git I was, even though I had mostly behaved myself throughout the week. I'd been extremely severe to that bully in year nine, helpful to the girl who lost her wallet and flirted with May only once. Or twice. I swear.
Women can be quite unpredictable sometimes.
Still, the guys took my side in this, even Paul, who gave me a short speech about how he’d never actually believed that I could manage some maturity and that he was quite proud of me for honoring my promise, while Brendan nodded with much approval and Ash slept through it all.
Although, Paul did mention, raising his voice slightly so as to block out Ash’s snores, that I could have displayed more of the warm personality that he was confident I possessed inside, despite my normally misleading demeanor.
‘Girls like sensitivity, Drew. You can be deeper than just sticking a bully in detention.’
Even though Gary had long insisted that it all came down to looks, Paul’s words, when I thought about it, made sense. I liked May, and I wanted her to like me too, did I not? It was essential that she saw the kind and caring person inside of me; instead of her thinking that I was naught but an arrogant toad, was it not?
My dear inanimate book, I try my very best, I really do, but somehow, not once does she appreciate it. Often I wonder if she is deliberately disregarding the fact that I am making an effort to portray myself in a better light, but as Paul and Brendan say, which I reluctantly agree with, she has unconsciously let her old image of Drew Hayden lodge itself firmly in her mind. So firm, in fact, that she refuses to accept a Drew Hayden who is genuinely trying to change for the better. Or to put it simply, as Gary and Ash say, she dislikes me with a passion.
Of course, that she considers me a player does not help much, either. That description would be more fitting for Gary. Now that I come to think of it, his trip to raid the cafeteria for our midnight snack is taking a lot longer than it should. That sly snake.
My point is that I’m not the sort of person to disappear into a girl’s dormitory on a whim, contrary to May’s belief. I have my own principles and I stick to them, however unlikely that may seem. She just happens to see me on dates with girls on our free weekends, which on no bounds is forbidden. Am I expected to sit alone when all the guys have dates, when even a divine ignoramus like Ash has one? I did tell the girl I date beforehand that whatever might or might not happen is strictly platonic, and no more; but she has to classify me as a player. Now May probably thinks that to me she’s nothing more than an unreachable conquest, that I only want her just to prove that I can, which to me is the purest of crap. I swear to the highest order I love her and her only – no one else matters.
Yes, I am quite obsessed.
No, I am not a lunatic.
In truth, the guys have on more than one occasion, suggest that I should quit on her and search for a better fish in the ocean, their argument being she’s never going to like me. Obviously, I have not heeded their advice on this issue, and this has in effect become the source of much frustration. Gary in particular hates her. It would not be the first time that he’s confronted May without my acknowledgement and told her blatantly that I deserve more than a bloody idiot who can’t even see what a great person I am.
His spirit is commendable, but of course it does not prevent me from teaching him a good lesson. Drew Hayden has to defend his beloved.
Probably the only one to support me in my supposedly hopeless cause is, surprisingly, Paul. Apparently, according to Paul’s other-dimensional point of view, there is an innate tremor of attraction between May and I. His idea was rather poorly received, especially by Ash who made no visible attempt to conceal his skepticism, but this is the guy who insisted there were thirteen ounces in a pound so his opinion doesn’t matter much.
What Paul said really brightened up my day, though. His reasoning was incomprehensible as always, but I got the gist of it, and it goes something like this: a year ago, May genuinely loathed me, and as Paul added, with good reason since I was at the time still an ‘insensitive jerk’. However, he proceeded, this year I had been steadily leaning towards the side of maturity, which May subconsciously liked, yet she continually tried to convince herself that she still hated me and that clouded her better judgment.
Though, in typical Paul style, he asked at the end whether or not I’d thought more about settling down being mature. Gary and I told him cheerfully that we would try again next year, since we didn’t want to live mundane, tiring and predictable lives, in short – Paul and Brendan's lives.
I admit, Paul’s speech made me more optimistic than ever. It made a lot of sense and through the weeks, seemed entirely plausible. Now that I’ve come to recall the past six months, May and I have sometimes managed to engage ourselves in civil conversation during prefect duties, discounting when she flies into one of her unprovoked tempers. She has yet to laugh at any of my jokes, but time will change that, I’m sure. This has, in fact, put such a noticeable smile on my face that May has shot me furtive looks more than once and asked in an accusing tone if I was secretly plotting some ingenious prank on Harley.
Which, incidentally, we haven’t done so in a while. It's rather tempting.
Anyway, I still vaguely remember around a month when Brendan returned from orchestra practice and told me that he’d accidentally overheard a conversation between May, who happens to be an accomplished cellist, and her friends. They were discussing me and apparently, a friend of hers, Dawn, was complimenting me on what a nice guy I had been this year, albeit a little too playful at times. They told her that it was sweet of me to change for her and asked her if she’d ever considered giving me a chance. She, in turn, countered with a resolute no and went to exclaim hotly that I was still an egomaniac and that she still hated me, though Brendan swore that he'd detected many lies as she ranted on and on. This, as I hardly need to tell you, is great news and only further strengthens my resolve that Paul is right.
Of course, right is something he demonstrates every exam, but that’s hardly the point. I am quite elated to discover that Drew Hayden, ‘egomaniac’ and ‘arrogant prick’, still has a fighting chance in spite of facing insurmountable odds. On the other hand, Gary and I have been raiding the school kitchen weekly ever since we learnt the word ‘infirmary’, therefore I am not as intimidated as the average student would be when it comes to the prospect of braving the impossible.
As a sign of motivation, I have taken Paul’s words to heart, and have, for the past few weeks, made a stalwart attempt to be deeper than just giving wrong-doers detention. Not that I’ve stopped doing that; I will not lie, it does indeed grant me immense satisfaction. I’m merely going beyond from watching my behavior to being caring and concerned, which I believe is a gentleman’s virtue. Only two days before Paul gave me this infernal diary, I sympathized with May being so stressful about the speech she was supposed to give when the parents came the following weekend, and not once did I flirt with her. I think I did a reasonably good job, since there was a small smile twitching on her mouth as she tried to maintain her cold composure.
God, I just wish she would quit trying to hate me.
Still, I am not complaining at all. There’s no doubt that we’ve made marked progress, however little. The guys all admit to witnessing such an occurrence, even Ash, and everyone knows exactly how difficult it is to have anything penetrate that stubborn head of his. Amen to that.
Who knows? She might even accept me as a friend next year.
Ooh – Gary’s back, fifty minutes late, and he’s dragging what looks like half the cafeteria. His brilliant excuse for tardiness seems to be ‘he was busy’, which directly translates as ‘taking a detour to the girls’ campus’.
Due to my ravenous nature, I am afraid, my dear diary, that I will have to depart – there’s an attractive chocolate cake I want to sample, and Brendan’s eyeing it closely too – and although I don’t think I’d ever write in you again, one last thing must be said.
It’s a large world and there are a lot of girls out there, but get this right, none could ever compare to May Maple. I said it before and I’ll say it twice for your benefit: the girl’s beautiful, smart, caring, sarcastic, and nice even if it’s not to me. She’s the whole package; she’s bloody perfect!
Hell, she’s the only girl for me!
That's it. No more. Go imagine the rest (a habit of mine), and you can tell me what you thought of it if you like.
When I look back at it, it seems much shorter than in Word. Oh well, no matter.