Finding Forever

Chapter 1

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The day I officially turn twenty-one is everything I expect it to be and then some. I wear my highest heels and shortest skirt and flash my identification card at the bouncer. He gives me a wink and says happy birthday as he lifts a velvet rope to let me and my friends walk into a club called Hennessey. My friends follow me to the bar, and my best friend, Ryan Owen, hollers down at the bartender with an order for a round of shots.

I've decided to be out of character and go white-girl-wild for my birthday celebration. So when Ryan hands me two shots with his patented boyish grin, I accept them both, take a knee and shoot them back like a champion. My friends cheered, and Ryan's eyes widened at how effortlessly I downed tequila. Usually, I am not much of a partier, and Ryan constantly pokes fun at me because I am what he considers to be the mother-hen of our group. Not tonight, though; I am anything but clucking cautious. I am reckless and uninhibited, hoping to make this birthday one to remember, full of awkward and funny stories I hope to reflect on for years to come. What else would one be expected to do during their junior year of college on their twenty-first birthday?

Probably dance on a table, slam another few shots of tequila and then puke in the backseat of a cab on the ride home. But I'm not exactly there yet.

On the way to the dancefloor, after Ryan orders us a round of drinks – or actually bottle service in a private booth – my friend Maisie twirls me under her arm and shakes her body against mine for a celebratory shimmy. Our two other friends, Jayce and Kale, worm their way between us and join our dancing circle as some old-school 50 Cent song vibrates throughout the club. Of course, Ryan's already been swarmed in a private booth by some female patrons. Everywhere he goes, women tend to gravitate toward him. It must be nice to be such a beautiful person.

Growing up, I was an unfortunate-looking child with a big space between my teeth, chubby knees, pop-bottle glasses, and some weird choppy bangs that extenuated my already long, stringy brown hair. I didn't fully grow into my look until my Senior year of high school. It took a long stint with braces, mastering the art of applying contact lenses, and finally finding a decent hairdresser to make me feel comfortable in my skin. But even today, I would consider myself just average-looking compared to Ryan. Chances are, if it weren't for my big personality, you probably wouldn't even notice me if I walked into a room. Ryan, on the other hand, is very noticed wherever we go. Women find him strikingly attractive, primarily because of his shaggy brown hair and warm dark eyes. He even has a dimple on his chin and a jawline so strong it could be steel. And for girls who adore a guy who can make them laugh hard enough to awkwardly snort through their nose, he's your man.

Let me guess: you probably wonder why I'm not interested in dating Ryan.

That's because a) we are just friends (always have been and always will be) and b) after I lost a bet between the two of us over who could eat the most hotdogs, he held me down and farted in my face as retribution. No matter how good-looking and cool they are, you can't be romantically attracted to someone after something like that. And I know people insist the whole guy and girl best friend thing doesn't work, but Ryan Owen and I are living proof that it does. He's been my best friend since our first year, and I've never had any romantic inklings for the guy.

In the three short years we've known each other, he's seen me at my worst – i.e. holding my hair while I puked during flu season and watching me ugly cry when my dog died. And any time I've needed to vent, he's my listening ear. He's also the only person I know who will try anything once, dance like no one is watching, and he will always put his friends and family above all else. There is no one in the world closer to me than Ryan. Since I met him, there hasn't been a dull moment in my life. I have no idea what I'd ever do without him.