My Very Own Personal Stalker

Chapter One

So this story is from a few years ago, and its rought and very chick-ish. like it or not, here it is!

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The noise from the music was ear piercing, and I couldn’t hear Amity ever time she spoke to me.

“Shelly! Shelly!” She continued to scream my name, and then tapped me on the shoulder.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes!!” Amity’s high voice screamed in my ear, and I could finally hear speak.

“Sorry, the music is way too loud” I looked around as all of my friends seemed to dance around me in a circle, leaving me the only one un-moving.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Amity brought me here to have fun, but I couldn’t seem to get into it. She even dressed me up in short shorts and a belly tube-top, hoping that a guy would help me get the courage to have fun.

I just shrugged my shoulders as she went back to the dancing circle that formed a barrier around me. I looked up and I saw this man, he must have been standing at around 5’ 7 to 5’9. He had curly brown hair, and fierce brown eyes. Then, quoted one of my favorite songs.

“Oh, you’re just gunna stand there, huh. What, are you too cute to dance, or are you scared?”

I looked down, and I could feel my cheeks begin to burn.

“My name is Monroe. What is yours?” His voice was sweet and it made me blush again.

“My name is Sh- Shelly.” I stuttered and put my hands over my mid drift. I was getting very self conscious, very fast.

“Shelly. That name is gorgeous, Yunno. One of my favorite names actually.” What was it about him that made my cheeks turn red?

“So, may I have this dance?” He asked as he stretched out his arm towards me. I heard Shadow of the day By Linkin Park begin, so I took his hand and we began to slow dance.

“I don’t see why you weren’t dancing. You are very good at it, you know.” You can guess the color I turned. We continued to dance for the rest of the song, and he just stared into my eyes the whole time. And what was I to do but stare back?

His face was framed by his beautiful locks of hair, and his lips were full and so kissable. He had a very defined jaw line, and his cheekbones were perfect. When the song ended he simply gave me a quick thank-you, and then walked into the club. There was nothing I could do but stare in shock. I wanted to call him mine, but I knew why he left. Because I was too ugly, my voice was squeaky, and I blushed too much.

I saw him walk towards my direction, and my heart nearly stopped. He was holding two drinks and walked right up to me.

“I don’t know what you like, so I guessed. Here, it’s a blue Hawaiian. It’s my personal favorite.”

I took the drink then thanked him. Then, he casually asked, “So, what brings you to the Cliché?” The cliché is the name of the club.

“I few friends said I needed to get out more and, so, here I am. And this get-up wasn’t by me.My best friend Amity decided I needed a new look and slutty seemed to be it.” He half smiled and chuckled slightly.

“I personally like the outfit, but would much prefer you in what you’re comfortable in. Not what someone else tells you to wear.” He gave me a look over then nodded lightly to himself.

“But, no matter what you wear, I am sure you are just as sexy- if not sexier- than you are now.”

I looked down to try to hide my blush, and then I looked into his eyes. He was being completely sincere.

“Shelly! Shelly, where are you?” Amity walked up to me, then looked at Monroe.

“So, who is this man?”

“Uuuh… well his name is Monroe.” I began to second guess myself. Amity was perfect in every way; her long blonde hair, model thin body, sea-blue eyes, and not to mention a perfect rack. Her personality was light and bubbly, and she wasn’t stupid like people would assume. So,

Monroe would fall in love with her and never want to see me again. That is how it usually went. My plain brown hair, hazel eyes, and slightly round stomach wasn’t very attractive.I had buck teeth and was short. There wasn’t anything special about me at all.

Surprisingly, he never took his eyes off of me long enough to show any interest in her at all.

“Well, Shelly, we must be going. I’m sorry Monroe.” Then she pulled my arm, dragging me away from him.

“Wait,” He called after me, but it was too late. We were already out of the club and into the parking lot.

“So when are you going to see him again?” Amity seemed eager to learn all of the detail of our meeting.

“Never,” I spoke sternly and solemnly, and then got into the driver’s seat. I put the key into the ignition and then began to speak again. “You dragged me out before I could give him my number, or any other useful information!” My one shot at a guy was ruined. I was 22 years old, and had never been kissed. What kind of life was I living?

“Oh. I’m sorry…” She pulled herself into the passenger side as the rest of my friends squeezed into the back. I could tell they were all drunk, and seeing how I only had one sip of my blue Hawaiian, I was the designated driver for tonight- and most other nights.

“It’s alright, Amity. Maybe I’ll see him again there, or find another one of his hangouts. Or… maybe I’ll just find someone else.” Who was I kidding? I was never going to see him again, I knew it. I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, and filed everyone inside. We all lived in the same building, and me and Amity were roomies.

“Shelly, really I’m sorry.” I ignored her as we walked into the apartment, and I went into my room to weep in peace.