Flopping back onto my twin-size bed, a plethora of thoughts bombarded me through the noisy texting of my friend. 

"Marcy?" I called to get her attention away from that damn thing for one second. I heard a slight hum from her direction- a sign that she was listening but too preoccupied to actually look at me. I decided to continue on voicing my thoughts anyways, Marcy's pretty good at multitasking. "Why haven't I found love yet?" I asked aloud. "Don't all seventeen year olds find true love by this point in their life?" 

I heard a scoff leave Marcy's mouth. "Brooke, stop reading those ridiculous teen romance fics, they're clearly messing with your head," she said pointedly, and when I glanced at her, I saw a slim brow was arched. "You need to come back to the real world sometime. And that means you won't find 'true love'," she airquoted those two words, "... until you're like thirty. Or maybe never."

I groaned. "But whyy," I whined, resorting to acting like a child. "Why can't I find love now? I hate waiting." I pouted and Marcy gave a sigh. Her eyes met mine for the first time since she got her an hour ago, and her eyes narrowed on me. 

"Brooke, I swear if you pull that 'baby me' bullshit I'm going to slap you right here and now." Marcy was always good at keeping me in check. I knew for a fact she wouldn't hesitate to slap me either. "But if you want to find love now, why don't you just start acting like all those ditzy chicks in those books you read? They must be doing something right," Marcy called out sarcastically, eyes returning to her phone. 

I jolted forwards into a sitting position. Then I gave her a giant grin, as much as my lips would allow. "Marcy, you're a genius!" 

~*~*~

Brooke is tired of waiting for love, so she does the only thing she can think of to obtain it: Being a Booksie.