Broken Hearts May Have Their Doubts

I ran around everywhere, but Josh appeared to have gained super powers and become the invisible man. So, I had no way of finding him and I was just about becoming panicked and hysterical. I needed to tell him and explain everything. To tell him Lucas was gay for crying out loud. But after a couple of hours, the others had gotten sick of me and forced me to go home.

So now I was sitting in my bedroom, my head laid on Sacha's shoulder. She was running her fingers through my tangled hair soothingly. The others were all sitting on the floor. Harmony was reading the label on a can of hairspray, Libby was painting her toe nails with a bottle of my cheap nail polish and Polly was studying the photographs stuck to my mirror.

"Why can't I have that?" Polly asked, stabbing her finger at the strip of photo's of myself and Josh messing around in a photo booth. Three out of four, we'd pulled silly faces and stuck our tongues out, but the last one, we were kissing.

"Have what? Bliss' pictures?" Libby asked.

"No, someone to love, to laugh with, to sit in photo booths and take stupid pictures with! I want a Josh Franceschi! Where can I get one?" Polly whined, collapsing onto the floor and pouting at us all.

"Sorry, but there's only one Josh and he's spoken for," Sacha said, softly.

"What if I never find him? And he goes away without knowing?" I asked, sadly. I was well and truly feeling sorry for myself right now. God, I'm so unbelievably pathetic.

"He'll know babes, because if you don't get to tell him, believe me I will. I'll chew his pretty ears off about it, till he gets on a damn train and comes to find you," Sacha explained her plan to me.

"That's if he still wants me, I've been such a bitch. I never give him a chance to talk, I just jump to stupid conclusions."

"It's normal to do that. I think anyone would've suspected something if Tart Face Darby trotted up the corridor calling him 'Joshy'. I mean, it's so like her to call him that. She's truly sick making."

I sat up properly, pulling away from Sacha's grasp and reaching for my bag, that I'd slung on the floor after coming home on Friday night. I picked it up and pulled it into my bag, wrenching it open and rooting around inside, trying to find the folded up piece of paper amongst packets of Polo mints, an empty box that had once contained Tic Tacs and various make up tubes and pencils, pens and my tangled up headphones.

I finally managed to locate it and slowly unfolded it. Amongst my doodles, Josh's handwriting stood out. My eyelids closed at the note he'd scrawled for me only a day ago.

Jenny's not my girlfriend. She's with Henri. I still love you, Bliss.

If I'd read that there and then, things would be completely different now. And I wouldn't be sat here feeling sorry for myself. A tear escaped my eye and I folded the note back up, the creases neat. I shuffled back over to Sacha and laid my head on her shoulder again. "I want a happy ending, is that too much to ask?"

"No, it's not, and you'll get it Bliss, I promise you will," she assured me, soothingly.

I hope she was right on this one.