"Of course I love him," a young Emma Swan protested. "He's my boyfriend."

"That doesn't necessarily mean you're in love, Emma," her mother retorted, setting her mug of coffee down on the kitchen table and taking a seat in front of it.

Emma thought about this. Was she in love with him? Certainly, she loved him. They'd known each other since the beginning of Freshman year of high school, and they were now both Seniors. But was she in love? Frustrated that she wasn't sure, she stormed out of the kitchen and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Determined not to eat her words, she texted her boyfriend and waited anxiously for his reply, not wanting to feel alone.

The next day, the first say of her Senior year, when she found him in the hallway, she locked lips with him in a passionate kiss, one that was quickly broken up as the principal of the school walked by and saw the public display of affection.

"That's enough, Ms. Swan," he said sternly, tapping her on the shoulder.

She pulled away reluctantly, tempted to ignore him all together. Once she'd watched him leave, she looked back at the boy in front of her, who was leaning up against his locker, and smiled.

"Hey, Neal."

"What was that about?" he laughed, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her close until their hips were touching.

"Nothing. I just love you."

The words were sticky and hard to get out, but Emma forced them. She was intent on proving her mother wrong. If she wasn't in love with him already, she would be soon.

"I love you too, babe," he said with a smile, then gently held her away and looked into her eyes. "Gotta get to class. See you later?"

"Yeah."

Emma couldn't stop the dryness of the answer, couldn't make it taste sweeter and less bitter. To her dismay, she barely found herself able to care. Somehow, spending time shut in her room with her headphones on seemed a more appealing plan than spending time with him.

At lunch, she sat at a table with her friends and ate quietly, not feeling like saying much. She didn't have much to add to the conversation, anyway. Her mind was stuck on the boy she'd kissed that morning and the prospect of the afternoon she'd undoubtedly have to spend with him. Her gaze stayed stuck on her tray of food until a young brunette sat beside her, putting her own tray down as her dark eyes looked Emma over from head to toe.

"You're dating Neal Cassidy."

After a few blinks, Emma looked the girl over and said, "Yeah. What of it?"

"He's a twerp."

"What do you care?"

The girl laughed and shook her head.

"I don't. It's just that... well... you're nerdy, but you're better than him. He's a real twat."

"Hey!" Emma cried. "Shut up! What the fuck do you want, anyway?"

"Chill out, lady. Just making polite conversation."

Her wicked grin spread from one cheek to the other as she looked at Emma, knowing all too well that her words were nothing more than bullshit. Still, Emma couldn't figure out why the girl would talk to her in the first place.

"Is that it?" Emma asked shortly, putting her fork down.

"Yep. That's it."

The girl picked up her tray and stood up, sitting down with another group of girls a few tables away, leaving Emma with a confused, blank stare on her face. When she thought about it, she realized she didn't even know the brunette's name.

After school, Emma found herself in her room with Neal, laying on the bed. He pressed his lips to hers, and she didn't pull away, but she didn't kiss back. When he rolled on top of her, reached between his legs, and started to undo his jeans, she pushed him off and rolled her eyes.

"Not tonight, okay? I'm really not in the mood," she told him coldly.

He looked surprised - he was used to having his way - but nodded his head and flopped back with his head on the pillow.

"So what are we doing then?"

"Can't we just watch a movie or something? I mean, I'm tired of fucking all the time. It's all we do."

"Yeah, I guess so," he reluctantly agreed, sitting up and looking at her. "What do you want to watch? No romantic comedies!"

Again, she rolled her eyes, sitting up too and grabbing her case full of movies and thumbing through them one-by-one.

The next day, to Emma's surprise, in her math class, the brunette from lunch the previous afternoon sat beside her with a smile, putting her books on the desk and looking around the room.

"Hey, dork," she said playfully, flashing Emma a grin.

The blonde rolled her eyes and opened her textbook as the teacher gathered her things and prepared to begin the class period.

"So have you dumped the little creep yet?" the girl asked seriously.

"No. We've been dating since Freshman year. Why would I break up with him?"

"I don't know. Because he's gross?"

"Just shut up. I want to pay attention, okay? I need to do well in this class, for my college applications."

"Nerd."

"What is your problem?"

"Nothing. You're just a total geek."

"First, you insult my boyfriend, then you insult me?"

"Don't misunderstand me. 'Dork' is a term of endearment. You're fine. He's just disgusting."

"Alright..." Emma said, turning her attention to the teacher for the duration of the class, still feeling confused by the girl's behavior.

Just before the class ended and they gathered their books, the brunette turned to Emma and said, "I'm Regina. Regina Mills."

"I'm-"

"I know who you are," Regina said quickly, cutting her off. "You're Emma Swan. The soon-to-be valedictorian."

Emma chuckled at this, shaking her head.

"I don't know about that. Belle French has quite the edge on me in math."

"I'm actually pretty good at it, if you need help."

Surprised at the gesture of kindness from the bold girl beside her, she actually cracked a smile.

"Actually, that would be great. Want to do homework together tonight?"

"You're not hanging out with your loser boyfriend?"

"Not if you want to hang, no."

Regina gave a satisfied smile and nodded her head, saying, "Meet me out front after school. We can take the bus to my place."

Emma nodded, and Regina turned and walked away.