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Title: Miserably Happy
Pairing: Jiley (Jake / Miley) or Lake (Jake / Lilly)

Author: DramaticStarlet / Katie Lynn
A/N: This story was written during my Math class a few months ago, and is based on my own life. Actually, part of the events in this story were written as they happened. All of them, save for the ending, actually, were written as they happened. I just added details to true life.

This can be interpreted as either Jiley or Lake, either works. (: I imagine Jake's friend being Amber or Ashley, but you can decide.

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She's not pretty. Of course she's not pretty. She's friends with him.

He walks by your desk, pencil sitting beneath his slightly parted lips, and you try to focus on the white board, your eyes blindly reading something about perfect square trinomials.

You stare at the board, fruitlessly willing away the heartache that is coming.

The teacher scolds him for something that will be forgotten momentarily, and she giggles next to you.

"I dropped my pencil," another boy says behind you. But it's not him. It's the pre-pubescent voice of a boy who drives you insane. His name starts with the letter J, just like his does. Only he wears the letter J better than the pencil-dropping moron.

His laugh suddenly sounds loudly and clearly. You hold back your own laughter; his mirth makes your stomach fill with butterflies, and your lips curve upward in a silly smile. Every single time.

You realize that she is looking at him, mouthing something unintelligible and giggling as well, again. That makes your smile disappear. She doesn't deserve to laugh with him.

But you realize that you don't either. Your place in middle school society was determined long ago. You aren't supposed to talk to him unless he talks to you first. You aren't supposed to laugh at something he says unless everyone else laughs first.

He walks by again, but you don't feel anything this time but unhappiness.

His perfection used to make you smile and blush, but now it just makes you want to scream.

Although his smile still makes you smile too, and his laugh still makes you laugh along, he's just too perfect. Too perfect to be real.

She sighs melodramatically, and he sighs back, grinning.

His shoulder brushes yours.

"Sorry," he mumbles subconsciously, not even bothering to look at you.

"What?" you ask, though you heard him perfectly. You only want to hear his voice again.

He turns and stares at you, puzzled green eyes meeting inquisitve blue.

"Sorry," he repeats, blankly annunciating the two syllabled word.

"Oh. You're forgiven," you smile warmly, hoping he'll smile back at you.

He doesn't.

"Cool."

Your pseudo-conversation is over. You both said three words max, but it's a conversation in your mind.

Seeing his green eyes makes you happy, but not really.

Because next to you, she snorts

But she isn't right about you. She knows nothing about you. You're not such a freak.

However.

It doesn't really matter.

She is still not pretty, he still makes you miserable happy, they're both more popular than you, and you're still on the waiting list for a rung on the social ladder.

You really hate middle school.

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Yeah, that's depressing. And it's my life! (:

Please review with more than more "so cute" or "i loved it," thanks!