The Search

SO new story! I'm still working on Angel Academy because I absolutely adore that story, but I just decided to start writing this story because this is pretty much my life right now. This is all true, no fiction here (except for the names. Sorry, I've got to respect my friends' privacy). As crazy as some of these situations may seem, they are absolutely real because this is my life. Feel free to comment and vote! I'm not really sure how long this will last, probably until my Search is over, hahaha. SO read and enjoy and tell me what you think! <3, x's and o's- Krai!!!!!!!!!

**************************************************************************************************************

   It's so funny how when you have a guy, you hate him sooooo much and you want no part of him. You want nothing of your relationship because he's boring, the relationship is boring, you guys are going nowhere, et cetera. As soon as you're single again? You want a guy, need a guy. You feel so alone and you know that you shouldn't feel this way but.... you do. There is no way in hell that I want any of those lames that I have dated/hooked up with in the past... But that definitely doesn't mean that I want to be alone! I guess my biggest fear is to end up one of those weird cat ladies that only loves her animals and spoils all her friends' kids but never has any of her own. I so don't want to be the attractive young female that just couldn't get her love life together and so she just ends up with no one. So this is my Search. The search for the perfect guy. Let the Search begin.

  As luck would have it, I go to an all-women's college. Before you go thinking this is some kind of lesbian cult or something, let me tell you that I came here for the music. Because here at my school is the best music school in the South. Being a musician, this school was obviously my first choice. I figured that I would be meeting dudes out of my butt, like all the time. Because it's just not possible that a whole city could be devoid of males! Apparently it is possible. I keep trying to figure out how could I possibly have been this wrong about the amount of guys I would meet here? Would I leave this school? Not for the world. But do I want some boys in my life? Hell. Yes.

  "Sometimes you really just have to take the initiative, girl!" One of my best friends, Jamille, told me after dinner. We had just come back from out, and yeah our waiter was cute and everything but.....

  "I just feel like if he were interested, he would have made some type of move! Some move, any move. Slipping his number to one of us, paying a little bit more attention to one of us." We had gone out with two of our partners-in-crime, and yeah we were funny, sweet, and gorgeous all together. So how was the poor guy to choose? Shaking my head, I continued, "I actually kind of feel bad for him. Here we are, four beautiful, talented, and intelligent young ladies. So I suppose I can't really blame him for not making a move...."

  "But hello!" Jamille continued. "So, say one of us left him one of our numbers on the table. That could have helped to initiate something."

Shaking my head I countered, "But there were FOUR of us!  It could have been any one of us! Come on, Jamille, I know you live for every guy we see everywhere, but cut your losses and move on! And besides whose number would you have put down? As I pointed out at dinner, you don't exactly have a phone? You wouldn't have given him your dorm number!"

Trying to be clever and sexy, Jamille had started writing her name and number on a napkin. Until she realized that she had no phone. After destroying her past mobiles, I guess her parents had decided to teach her a little bit about responsibility. So now she was reduced to borrowing our phones. 

She scowled at me. "It wouldn't have hurt to try."

  "Haha, yes it would have. And besides we have the end of the term coming up. Where would you have gone on dates during the summer holiday? At his job? Would you have helped him clean the dishes? Awwwww, so cute!" I cooed, reminding her that if he worked as a waiter, he probably needed that money for school or something.

  "Shut the hell up, Meredith. At least we got clothes tonight." She smiled, remembering our shopping trip that had initiated our dinner. Because of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, we were participating in a Japanese benefit showcase in an effort to raise money for the Japanese Red Cross. We were going to be doing a dance with the two other girls, Clare and Victoria, to a Korean Pop song called "Supa Luv."

   "I got that suuuuupaa luuuuvvvvvv, that suuuuupaa luuuuuuvvvv, luv!" We wailed simultaneously, and then cracked up laughing. 

  "Hey, I wonder if that guy from the other school is going to be there!" Jamille was referring to this guy we had seen at another benefit for Japan, just two days ago.

  "Who, Young?" She nodded, a grin growing on her face. 

  "And I can show him some of my.... moves!" 

  "Jamille! You know the only moves that you have are some old-school train wrecks called the Shopping Cart, the Sprinkler, and the Cabbage Patch!"

She frowned and responded in a lofty tone. "You forgot the Running Man."

We burst into laughter again. My roommate suddenly entered our room. 

  "Meredith! Jamille!"

  "Yeah, Amy?" I had jumped off of my bed, already fearing the worst. Some people say that I have a little bit of a stress problem. I was imagining our dorm being on fire, someone getting wheeled out on a stretcher. 

  "Merry, calm down! I was just going to say that there's this really cute guy downstairs.... Is he one of yours?"

J and I turned to each other quickly, and ran out of the room together. Jamille quickly overtook me because of her superstar tennis abilities, and I simply followed her down the steps.

  "Don't fall, Meredith!"

I scowled at her mocking tone, and ran down the rest of the steps. To my credit, I didn't trip until the last step. She snickered loudly. And then we saw him.

  "Shut up, J! He might hear us."

There was a very real chance that he would hear us, too. We were looking through the little glass window that separated the upstairs floors from our lobby and check-in desk. He really was very cute. Tall, with what looked like to be some sizeable muscles underneath his t-shirt. He was wearing socks with Adidas flip-flops, the true mark of an athlete. We watched as he signed himself in while whispering, "He sure knows what he's doing" and "Who does he belong to?"

All of a sudden he looked straight at us. Busted.