The Steps I Take to Get Closer to You

I put my headphones on and cranked What Makes You Beautiful as I slumped into my bus seat.  My first day of college was actually getting off to a good start, now if only my beloved Liam could call me beautiful in person, everything would be perfect.

I lazily thought of the day ahead.  My Music Psychology course started today, and I was actually pretty excited.  After I'm done these four years, I hope to become a songwriter, and maybe, just maybe if I'm hit with an incredible stroke of luck, I'll become a singer as well.  Admittedly, my dream would be to do a duet with One Direction in the O2 Arena in London, England.  Then, after the last note had been sung, voices echoed of the walls and cheers of the crowd died, Liam would pull me into the softest, sweetest, longest, warmest, firmest, most electrifying kiss I'd ever have.  Perhaps it's crazy, and yet, it seems entirely viable.  I see it happening every time I look in  the mirror.  I hear the excited fans screaming my name, "Andrea! Andrea! We LOVE you!"  I just know that someday, some way, no matter how seemingly impossible it is, my dream of a music career and a factual romance with the love of my life, Liam James Payne will come true.

The unearthly screech of poorly oiled brakes snapped me harshly out of my reverie.  I had reached the correct campus.  Quickly as I could, I sprang to my feet and leaped off the stairs of the bus before any of my fellow bus riders gained the opportunity to cut me off.  This sounds terribly selfish, but I didn't care.  All I wanted to do was get the best seat in the classroom for my first lecture of the semester.  I was indescribably excited for this.  Actually, excited doesn't even begin to explain the buzz of electricity that I felt.  Enthralled seems more accurate.

A crowd swarmed busily around me like worker bees.  Dizziness and an overwhelmed sensation overtook me.  I pulled out my timetable and gave it a short once-over.  I still couldn't truly comprehend it, but the sight of something so neat, organized and methodical had a strangely calming effect on my frazzled, stressed and extremely worried self.

An ingenious thought dawned on me.  My best friend Bianca understood the stupid timetable quite well, so I called her  and asked her where my class was.  Let's just say she was far from contented with me.  However, I did learn that I was in classroom 102CR, West Wing, and that my professor's name was Dr. Phyllis.  I thanked her, apologized, hung up and made the maddest dash of all time to my classroom.  Being late for my first class would be the bane of my existance, and I knew it.  Luckily, I made it to the class early just as I'd hoped to do, and so I smiled smugly to myself as I gracefully claimed the best seat in the room and prepared myself with all I needed to succeed.