Awkward.

Previously on Awkward...

My life was full of unexpected choices.

We've decided not to let a girl come between us.

So you need to choose, him or me.

You should date each other.

But someone had to win, someone had to lose,

and I was still left to choose.

I used to think being in love

with two people at once only happened on reality shows,

where finding a soul mate was nudged along

by a dozen roses, a cheese-tastic host,

and a camera crew up your ass.

I never bought that bogus B.S....

until it happened to me.

I didn't have to choose between Matty or Jake,

but I wanted to.

When it came to life-altering decisions,

I resorted to my go-to method of problem solving...

blogging it out.

"Pick Matty." "Pick Jake."

"Matty is the only choice."

"Jake is awesometown."

Turns out, my readers were as confused as I was.

"Get over it."

"Pick a guy already." "Team Matty."

"Team Jake. Team... Jonah?

"We have third period together.

I'm the one with the Jew 'fro."

Oh.

It was impossible to think

with the peanut gallery chiming in.

How could I possibly blog my way to an answer

if I couldn't write my truth?

Unless...

I tried my hand at fiction.

It was the six month anniversary

of the first tryst in the utility closet,

and Jenna couldn't stop thinking about it.

Those ill-fitting camp shirts,

the filthy space, the cold, dank floor...

it was the most romantic three minutes of her life.

Jolted by a rush of cold wafting off

Matty's sub-zero skin,

Jenna couldn't help but consider,

should she finally let him turn her

so they could spend eternity together?

Do you know what today is?

Tuesday.

He didn't remember.

Jenna was crushed.

She didn't realize the undead could suck so hard.

Happy anniversary.

He'll never be able to give you what you need.

But I can.

But she couldn't discount Jake,

who she occasionally referred to as Jacob.

Sexy in his own right and an amazing kisser,

Jenna could only imagine how their sex would be.

She thought it would be hot.

For real, Jake's body temp hovered around 150.

My brief foray into fiction

lead me to one obvious conclusion...

I was a hack.

So I wasn't all that great

when left to my own devices.

What I needed was a push in the right direction,

or any direction.

Because I was lost, in love.

Whenever I lost my keys, which happened a lot,

I retraced my steps.

Maybe I needed to retrace my past

to figure out my future.

"If you had a do-over with Matty,

how would you handle it?"

A do-over... it was an interesting concept.

And I knew exactly what I would do differently.

I was afraid you weren't gonna show.

- Wait, I'm not going in there. - Why not?

Because if I do, we're gonna have sex.

And I'll be totally into you,

and you'll ignore me, and I'm not cool with that.

So if you wanna get to know me,

ask me out.

Didn't you hear me yelling at you

to come get your clothes when you came in?

Yeah, I heard you.

I just didn't feel like doing it.

Watch your tone, young lady,

or you can start doing your own laundry.

This letter came for you.

I'll take the clothes, but...

you might wanna rethink that.

Guys, this is Jenna.

Hey.

Sit next to me.

Jenna, you would look so pretty with a makeover.

Oh, damn, is it "bring a freak to lunch" day?

I totally forgot mine.

Back off, Sadie.

Jenna and I are together now.

We are?

I hope so.

Spoiler alert, you won't last the week.

So forgive me if I don't commit your name to memory.

You're welcome.

Like a hungry coyote,

Sadie preyed on the weak and wounded.

If showed any fear at all,

she'd spend the rest of the year eating me alive.

Well, I already know your name.

It's Sadie Sucks-ton, right?

- - Sorry.

I'm not sorry.

You are such a bitch.

I like you.

So, "J", are you hanging with us today,

or are you eating at the V.I.P. table?

It's been, like, a week.

Well, I'd rather eat with you guys,

but I don't wanna hurt Matty's feelings.

- What about our feelings? - Come on, guys.

It's not like I'm gonna be BFFs with Sadie

and become popular overnight.

Where'd you score the lactoids, Hamilton...

sudden grown spurt or cutlets?

- I got a boob job. - Overnight?

I heal fast.

Do you think I should get implants?

Maybe just a lift.

And a nipple reduction.

Hamilton, can we sidebar?

Isn't it obvious? She's moved on.

So feel free to resume your life on the D-list without her.

You're welcome.

Come on, Sadie.

To join the mob, you proved your loyalty

by making your first kill.

To stay popular, I had to sacrifice my friendships.

They're not D-listers...

unless you grade on a curve

the size of her shelf-butt.

Sorry. I'm not sorry.

And just like that, I was made.

Nice whore-drobe, skanksquatch.

This is the first time you've come up

on my radar, Miss Hamilton,

and I hope it's the last.

Yeah, me too.

Why am I here?

Because I didn't like mean girls

when I was in high school,

and I don't care for them now.

If you're calling me a mean girl,

you better have the proof to back it up.

Because the way I see it, that's slander.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

I wasn't implying that.

I meant that as a popular,

envied student with good hair

and a great set of bazooms,

you have the opportunity to use your power for good.

Okay, val, why don't I start with you?

Unless you keep a lid on the crazy

and stop dressing like a Walmart greeter,

the only action you're ever gonna get

is your annual visit to the gyno.

Sorry. I'm not sorry.

Whenever peeps bitched about high school

being the most painful time of their lives,

I always assumed they were losers.

Because I was halfway through sophomore year

and I was killing it.

Every girl wanted to be me and

every guy wanted to bone... except the gay ones,

who still wanted to see my boobs.

But even though my life was perfect,

I couldn't help by wonder

why the hell was I wasting time

recounting every little thing that happened to me

on some lame blog?

Blogging was stupid.

Hey, pretty girl.

I need your expert opinion.

What do you think of this for the Sotos' cocktail party?

Add earrings. Hoops, not studs.

Change the pumps. And you might wanna

think about busting out the spanx.

Oh. Thanks, honey.

I would be a mess without you.

Oh, and this letter came for you.

Can you read it to me?

My nails are still wet.

Okay.

"Dear, Jenna, as you are now,

you are... awesome!

Words cannot express

how perfect you are in every way.

You are a role model for girls the world over,

because you are beautiful, skinny,

cool and stylish.