I met a guy. Who CLAIMS he's my BF. I don't mind! ;)

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I’m your average girl. Nothing poetic, graceful or special about me. Like all girls though, I wanted to have one special boyfriend. You know, the one who is caring and handsome, angelic and romantic. Or at least that was my preference, the golden boy. I could spend all day just dreaming about this special soul mate I could only hope to meet someday. 

   My name is Kelly Anderson and I live in a conservative, white-picket fenced neighborhood. Not poor, not rich, but middleclass. Cheerful two-story houses overflowing with blonde children and SUV’s lined the entire town. Husbands working in the garage, wives clipping coupons, going to church and getting monthly mani-pedi’s and children out playing in clean-cut grassy front yards was the motto of town. 

  My family was no different. Except for me. You see, most teen girls in town were not overly-beautiful or exotic, but none were as plain as me. I have straight, light brown hair, large brown eyes and pale skin. I never wore make-up, stuck to conservative clothes and shoes and concentrated on my studies. Still, by sixteen I was starting to feel lonely, and my feminine side suddenly started craving the need for love and affection from a boyfriend. 

  I guess I never really tried to attract the opposite sex, but I really am quite shy and bashful (which sucks big time, but I can’t help it!) Needles to say, I never got past staring at guys. Which freaked them out. 

 Sighing, I lay down on my plush twin sized bed covered in fluffy stuffed animals. Of course, staring at the childish animals only made me feel worse and even more pre-pubescent so I crawled over to my window seat, which was now my own personal alter for drawings of my own vision of my perfect guy. Gazing out the window, I felt my eyes roll as I saw a shooting star dash across the wide, dark blue sky.  “Alright, magical star, please send me a kind, generous and handsome boyfriend. Just as I have imagined in my dreams,” I hoarsely whispered into the dark, feeling slightly stupid. Laughing slightly, I walked back over to my bed and fell into a deep sleep. 

I doubted the star would even send me a shirtless picture of Ian Somerhalder. 

~~

Rubbing the crust out of my eyes, I moaned and rolled over, glad to be on Winter Break. Waking up at five in the morning to study and get ready was not exactly the peak of my life. As my hand gently hit a warm, muscled-feeling body, my eyes widened to the size of saucers. Hairs lifted up around my neck and arms, and a chill settled in my stomach. Swiftly flipping over to face the rapist/murderer/crazy/kidnapper, my breath caught in my throat. 

There, in my bed was a perfect, blonde-haired, deliciously tanned and toned body, complete with golden eyelashes curling around his eyes, which proved to be a light, sparkling blue. His mouth curved into a good-natured smile as he suddenly began speaking. “Hi. I’m your new boyfriend.”

I promptly started screaming. 

~~~~

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