Gone

Amelia

     I smirk at myself in the mirror, taking in the hottest "I don't give a shit about men" look yet. My long hair looks great against my tan skin, falling just above the neckline of the short little number I choose for tonight. A deep red tone engulfs my body, hugging every curve and accentuating my plump breasts. Before I can inflate my ego any further, I hear a knock at my door.
"Amelia, you're a knockout. Are you ready for the best yes of your life?"
I roll my eyes at my over dramatic best friend.
"Hello to you, too."
Anna looks stunning, as always. Her long, honey blonde hair hits below her breasts and she rocks a gorgeous, emerald green strapless number. Being a curvy woman, it's difficult to not compare myself to Anna. She can't help God blessed her with the perfectly portioned body. But tonight, I'm shoving down any negative thoughts I may have about myself. It's the only way I'll make it through tonight's function.
    When we arrive at the center, Joe, Anna's fiancé, greets us with a mischievous smile and a lazy posture, indicating tonight is going to be trouble. I sigh and follow Anna to the entrance. As soon as I step through the door, I see him.
      I stop in my tracks and my mouth slightly parts. What can only be explained as the strongest gust of wind and the fullest forces of gravity soars through my body, and I'm locked into place. Heart pounding, head spinning, I stare back into the pair of deep brown eyes looking at me. I don't know this man's name, and I'm certain we've never met before, but something is tugging at my soul, letting me know this is something huge.
After what feels like ten years, I come out of my trance and advert my eyes to Joe and Anna, who are both are smirking at me. I laugh them off and cautiously take my seat with the women of the group.
"Looks like someone has already found something to keep her entertained for the evening," Anna whispers next to me.
"Mmhm. You just focus on yourself. Remember, you're only looking for men who are willing to take on you and your fifty cats. And anytime he mentions sports or refers to himself as "humble" that's a half shot. His half shot." We giggled like high schoolers as we plotted our night out.
      Anna and I had made a game out of these events, convincing the men that we were crazy cat ladies so early in life. Seeing just how far you can take it until they realize we're messing with them is one of my favorite joys in life. Anna on the other hand, would play along for an hour or so before she started not-so-subtly hyping me up to the men she was speed dating. Joe didn't mind our little games, in fact he and his coworkers found entertainment out of his bride-to-be leaving men left confused and a drink or two short.
      The music starts playing lightly in the background and that's our que to head to the tables. Each one is set up with two chairs, a bottle of random alcohol, some finger food,  and a notepad. The idea is to get through the five minute long date however you seem fit. If it's going good, you can write down the guy's name and number to separate him from the rest. If not, bottoms up bitches. That last part is an unspoken rule of course, and thankfully the men have never seemed to pick up on the symbolism behind taking a shot during the date. By the looks of the 20-30 men in this room, I have a feeling I'll be going home drunk and alone tonight. Just how I like it.
      My curiosity tugs at me again though, and as I take my seat at the first table, I find myself looking for the brown eyes that first caught my attention. Instead, I'm met with a pair of dark green ones attached to a burly looking man, real Christopher Columbus vibes. Hell to the no. He sits down in front of me and offers a hand.
"Hello gorgeous. Names Keegan. And yours?"
I plaster on my friendliest smile and return the gesture, giddy over taking mr. wannabe Columbus down a notch.
"Amelia, fantastic to meet you" I smirk.