I don't own Moze, Loomer or NDSSG, blah, blah, blah. In this story the kids are in high school, aged 16. Loomer and Moze can't avoid pestering each other. Oh, teenage love, so many memories...

Words between "" represent dialogue parts.

Words between ( ) represent thoughts.

Moze was staring at her image in the mirror, trying to assess the situacion. 'Don't focus on hiding the things you don't like, but on highlighting your best features', the magazine said.

(Ok, let's go. Smooth, real long hair. Good feature there, we can do something with that one. Then: eyes, nose and lips. Not ugly, but not stunningly pretty at all. Ermm... cleavage; we are good in that department. Yeah, Moze, that's exactly what you're going to tell him: Hey, Billy!! If you look me up here, you'll see my face is just average, but take a peek at my boobs. Impresive, huh?)

She rolled her eyes in desperation and lied down in her bed, covering her face with that magazine for teenagers. She considered for a moment it might be a good idea to ask Suzie for advice. Yeah, she was great with guys, they all liked her. But then again, she did it effortlessly, almost unconsciously. And what was she going to tell her? 'Errmm, Suzie, remember Loomer used to have a crush on me in middle school and I used to ignore him completely? Well, now I've decided I absolutely wanna date him, but he doesn't even look at me anymore.'

(Ok. No Suzie, just stupid magazine and me.) She got up and looked at the reflection in the mirror again (nice legs, maybe a bit too muscular for most girly girls, but still beautiful. Note to myself: might even consider buying a skirt. Note to myself #2: ewww!!!)

So there she was, walking nervously towards Michael's house. They had agreed to finish their group project for carpentry in his garage that weekend. She checked her aspect in a shop window for one last time before entering the house. It had taken her a long time to get the knack of how to use her mother's hair straightener, but it had been worth it. Her hair looked glossy and perfect, just like models' locks usually did in shampoo ads. She smiled to herself. A tight black shirt, her brand new boots and her favourite pair of jeans completed her atire. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

She heard Michael's voice from the inside, telling her it was opened, and she could come in. Moze entered the hall and saw... well, she didn't see anyone, or anything at first sight. She frowned.

"Hey guys! You playing hide-and-seek or what?"

"Nay, Moze, we were just on a trip to the kitchen to bring downstairs some..." Michael was saying when he turned and saw her. In fact, he just seemed to stare open-mouthed at her. "Some... erm, you know, huh, some..." he laughed nervously.

"SNACKS, BUB!!!" Loomer snapped the back of Michael's neck.

Michael seemed not to notice it.

"You're looking really pretty today, Moze" Michael said, blushing slightly "Not that you normally don't, of course, I mean... you ARE pretty, so you look ok everyday. Erm... not just ok. Great. You look great everyday. It's just that today you look... erm... extra great!" he managed to finish, looking more and more flushed by the moment.

"Oh, thank you for... everything you've said, I guess. I wasn't sure about this shirt when I bought it, so it's good to know you've got a good opinion on that. What do you think, Billy?", Moze asked with her most confident voice, although she was nervous on the inside. (Oh, c'mon, Billy, just take a look, big guy!!)

"I think that's the weirdest thing I've seen anyone wearing to work with wood in a garage," he shot.

Ok, enough was enough. That made her lose it. Moze straightened her back as much as she could and tried her best to look down on him and put her most indiferent tone of voice.

"Well, I happen to have plans for tonight. Some of us here have a social life. Though I don't expect you to understand that, Billy Loomer."

"Do whatever you wanna do!!! Just be careful you don't break a nail. I don't wanna spend the evening listening to you crying over it!," he said so cuttingly Jennifer thought she was gonna explode.

"Can't believe you're such a moron. You know I'm the best there is at carpentry in our class." He had that sarcastic smile and she couldn't help but add "YOU, just be careful I don't accidentally hammer some of your bodyparts."

Before Loomer had time to answer, Michael considered it was the moment to intervene.

"Maybe we could start with the project. The earlier we start, the sooner..."

"The sooner Moze will go see that new little boyfriend of hers," he said trying to annoy her.

"Yeah, and the sooner Loomer will be able to go back to his sofa to spend a long, pleasant Saturday night with himself and his TV," she gave him a malicious look.

(Yeah, you didn't fancy him when he was nice to you, but you do now he's as much of an ass to you as he's to everyone else.) she closed her eyes tight for a moment in a gesture of desperation (Great, Moze. You have a problem up there and it's called masochism. Awwwwwwww!!! I hate him, hate him, hate him, hate him.)

In the middle of those thoughts, Moze tripped on a step and was just about to fall off the stairs.

(Maybe he was a little bit right about the not-so-appropriate look to work in a garage. But he's still an ass. He's an ass. He's an ass. He's an ass. He's got a nice ass, actually.) She rolled her eyes. Masochism was back. Oh, yeah.