Author's note: Okay, some of you might know my other fic "Welcome To My Life". From some unknown reason, I decided to write another, but I'm still working on my previous one, of course.

This fic is slightly different. If you have seen the movie "Never Been Kissed" you know what this would be about. But it won't be exactly the same, of course, cause the would be boring. And I don't want to write something boring.

Anyway, feedbacks, comments, anything, is very appreciated and needed.

Oookay, now I stop rambling, I think.

Disclaimer: I own almost nothing. I even borrowed some sentences from the original movie, haha. God, how I love that movie.

My BIG "thank you" belongs to my beta-reader Amanda. Do you envy? Because you should :)

1.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was just trying to do my job. But then things happened. Well, life happened.

Let's start from the beginning...

----

I was the youngest copy editor at the Los Angeles Times. I had my own office, unlimited stationary supplies... and a professional, dedicated assistant.

You could say that I had the perfect job. And I really thought I did.

Well, except for a couple of things…

"Oh my God, Spencer, guess what?"

I hear a voice behind me while I'm on my way to my office. I turn around and see who else but Madison Duarte, my co-worker and I guess you could say best friend. Or my only friend. You choose.

She is wearing a really short skirt and a very colorful tank top. I look down at myself; I'm wearing my best skirt suit today. Then I look back at Madison and suddenly I feel uncomfortable.

I guess I should have dressed more…girly. Right?

"What?"

I go toward my office with Madison behind me, stopping in front of my assistant, who has obviously very "important" call.

"Yeah…Uh huh…No freaking way…Are you fucking kidding me?"

I'm standing right in front of him, but he still doesn't look like he sees me. I know he does. Because, for real, I'm not invisible. Am I?

I finally clear my throat and he glares at me, annoyed at my interruption.

"What?"

"Messages?"

He takes a couple of papers and hand them to me, quickly returning to his "important" call.

"No way. You did it? She did it? No fucking way…"

I'm not listening to him anymore as I walk into my office, knowing Madison is still behind me, following me like a lost puppy. I sit down on my comfortable chair, read the messages and drop them into the trash can. Nothing interesting.

When I still don't hear a word from Madison, I lift my head up to see her leaning against the door, grinning at me.

"What?"

"You won't believe what happened yesterday," she proclaims, all excited, and slumps down on the seat.

"What?"

"Guess who I did it with last night?"

Could she be more excited?

"Did what?"

She looks at me as if I was stupid. "Had sex."

"Oh."

What? I'm a little naïve sometimes. Okay, maybe not just sometimes.

"With who? This time?" I add.

She sticks out her tongue at me and replies, "Josh Kane."

"Who?"

She frowns. "You know, that guy I told you about a week ago. From the fourth floor. Dark hair and eyes, strong hands, incredible body…"

I cut her off. "Yeah okay, I remember."

She wanted to say something again, but someone interrupted her as he literally burst into the office.

"Has no one taught you to knock?" Madison spits out, irritated.

"I'm your boss, I don't have to knock."

Meet Aiden Dennison, our boss. 26 years old, dark hair and eyes, tall with a hot body. And rich. Very rich. His Dad owns this newspaper.

Yeah,that rich.

Aiden and I, we grew up together. He's rich and pretty, and I'm Spencer Carlin, poor and not so pretty. Don't understand how we could have been friends? Well, we weren't. Not really. Aiden and my brothers were best friends. And because I was the youngest, they must have brought me with them everywhere.

Aiden tosses some papers on my desk.

"Computer's down. Septuplets story. I need it back by five. Hopefully the copy's not a mess."

"It is hope that it's not a mess. "Hopefully" is an adverb. It means "with hope". You have it defining the copy, and I'm pretty sure the copy doesn't have feelings," I corrected him.

What? Don't look at me like that.

They both stare at me for a while, until Aiden frowns, says "whatever" and turns to face Madison.

"Soooo, I heard about you and Josh from fourth," he says, grinning slyly.

"What?! Who told you?!" Madison shrieks.

Ouch, my ears hurt now.

He frowns. "Pleaaaase, everybody knows."

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my…"

I cut off her rambling about God. "Madison, this is not the first time you slept with a co-worker and everybody knew, so just get over it."

They both look at me in shock. I've never been this harsh.

"Don't you need to get laid or something…?" she asks.

Oh, if she only knew.

"Shut up."

"Seriously, girl, you need to have sex finally," Aiden agrees as she turns around to leave.

"Oh," I stop him, "did you see the story idea I left on your desk?"

"Yeah, it was good. I got Strauss on it."

What? That's my article!

"But…uh…I thought…"

He looks at me, "Spencer, we've been over this. You're a great copy editor. But you're not a reporter. Get over it."

With that and a smirk, he left.

That motherfucker.

-----

It's lunchtime and I'm sitting with Madison in our cafeteria, eating my sandwich.

"I don't understand why he can't let me write. I'm good, you know I am, right?" I look at her with sad eyes.

"I know you are. You're probably the best reporter I know."

I sigh. "So tell me, why he doesn't let me write?"

Madison places her hand on top of mine. "I don't know, Spence. I really don't."

"Hey, ladies," I hear a voice behind me and see a dark haired girl sitting down next to us.

"Hey, Chelsea," we both reply.

"Oh my God, have you both seen the new editor?" she asks excitedly.

Oh, sweet Jesus, again?

"What? Who? Where?" Madison obviously gets excited too, as always when there's talk about boys.

They start to talk about that new guy, while I'm playing with my food, bored. Very bored. I think they noticed, because they stop all of a sudden and fix their dark eyes on me.

"What?" I glare at them.

"Youreally need to get laid," Madison proclaims.

"What? Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

They frown. "Just because."

Maybe they're right. Maybe I really need to get laid. You know, after 25 years of being a virgin, it's kinda depressing.

And what's is even more depressing is I've never been kissed.

I'm Spencer Carlin, a 25-year-old copy editor who's never been kissed.