I struggle with the key for a moment, and fail to open the door. "Pip!" I bellow, startling my neighbors. "Open the door!" Pip's red head pokes out, and she obliges. "Thanks." I tell her. "Best sis ever." She beams at me, then runs to her room and continues dancing to Nicki Minaj. How she heard me over that swearing, I don't understand. I stand in our cosy living room, completed with cushy white beanbags, wall to wall shaggy white carpeting, a plasma screen TV, and a coffee table littered with magazines. I peer into Pip's room. It was completely covered with posters of celebrities. The one wall that was visible was covered in my drawings of her. Smiling, jumping, running, playing with friends. I smile at the pictures and go into my own room. The walls are painted a deep dark blue color. Everywhere are drawings, realistic, still-art, cartoons, comics, and some of my family, some of me. Occassionally there is a basketball poster. My bed has a mahogany frame, with simple white sheets. I jump into it, sending the mattress bouncing. I roll over on my stomach, and stare at the picture right above my head. It wasn't a drawing, unlike all the other ones. It was a photograph. Of a girl with jetblack hair, beautiful red lips, and purple highlights. It was a blurry picture of a miniature Yenny-taken by me when we had gone to Elementary School together. She hadn't known me, but I've had a crush on her forever. I was just Sam Dillon, minor basketball player. Never noticed, only semi-good looking. Not popular, but not unpopular. Next to that picture was bajillions of drawings of Yen. I never could capture her that well. And she was here! At Nortons. If I didn't get her, I was going to throw myself off a cliff.
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