I think I first realised how painfully and hopelessly I had fallen in love with her when we were both 14. At the time, we both thought we could rule the world, and actually had very similar opinions about things. I loved it when she used to tell me how we were the same and we should do things together, be a part of things that only included us because only we had the same views.
Then, I was sitting there one day in Maths class and I suddenly felt this overwhelming need to kiss her. Had we not been in a room full of horny teenage boys, or school full stop, I think I would have found it incredibly hard not to kiss her, but we were, so I couldn't. But I thought about it when I went home that night and, over the coming weeks, I discovered that I was falling for one of my best friends.
Years passed and even though I grew apart from my other friends, things never really changed with her.
We went to the same college together and then the time finally came where we had to go our separate ways to different Uni's and live apart from one another. I was distraught, to say the least at this prospect. I would never get the chance to tell her how I felt.
We had both had various boyfriends and, even though she knew I felt very close to her, I didn't really think she knew the exact depth of my feelings for her. Hell! She probably thought I was as straight as an arrow, just like everyone else did.
And then the night came for the college leavers 'do, and it didn't really matter anymore.
I decided to dress up. It was our last real night together and neither of us had dates so were kind of going with each other in a purely friends kinda way, unfortunately for me.
Lucy had always been a bit of a tomboy, I suppose. Whilst everyone else was straightening their hair and applying mascara, she brushed her fringe into some kind of organised mess and made fun out of how artificial we all were being. It's one of the things that made me love her. I used to watch her run to get the ball in Basketball with agility I could only dream of and imagined fondling her beautiful body that her sports clothes only made me want more.
So, as you can imagine, I wasn't really expecting much when I drove by her house to pick her up. Man, was that stupid of me because she must have noticed the way I was looking at her as she opened the door. My breath caught in my throat as she gazed into my eyes and it took everything I could muster to nonchalantly say 'Hi,' and tell her she had took ages to answer the door. She looked beautiful. Her hair was tied to the back of her head, apart from a few ringlets that had escaped to the front and casually framed her face. Her make up was flawless and her eyes shone brightly from behind her mascara. Her dress was long and cream coloured and glistened as it hugged against her curves in all the right places.
"Hey, ginge, nice to see you, too" she said. Ginge was what she called me - she knew it pissed me off.
"You're so funny," I told her, laying on the sarcasm thick and heavy.
"I know!" she said, smiling and batting her eyelashes in a way that honestly was a bit creepy, but just made me want to hold her in my arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
We listened to the radio on the way there and she told me what a cow she thought her mum was - as per usual for her conversation and then we got there.
I was ready to settle in for an evening of watching ex-boyfriends slow dance to George Michael with their dates (ie. play tonsil tennis with hopelessly slutty girls) when I came back with our drinks but Lucy had another idea.
"Yo, ginge, let's dance" and before I knew it I was being whisked off my feet by her strong body and we were grooving away to some fast Bloc Party track.
