I Knew He Was Perfect for Me

I Knew He Was Perfect for Me--Ch. 1

[ AN: Okay, so here's my first (unfinished) draft. The title is basically a test run, if you have maybe a better suggestion just leave them in the comments...? Speaking of comments, they're very much appreciated!! :) ]

 

Chapter One -- Life and All It's Tricks

       It started out a normal Monday morning. Me, stumbling out of bed cursing the alarm clock on my way, tripping over my shoes from where I left them from my Sunday jog, and singing along to the song on the radio. Yup, normal. Life seemed to be the same perpetual routine--curse, stumble, sing. Blindly, I stumbled over to the light switch and turned on the lights. To continue my Monday routine, I got a shower, dressed, fixed my hair, put on my make-up, ate breakfast and headed off to work. And life goes on.

     I grew up in a small Texas town however strangely named Earth. My birth certificate name was Samantha Lee Brown. You know, having a name like that really sucks. Well, no offense to anyone with that name, but that name is so...plain. So I changed my name to Mandy. Mandy Lee. Two sisters and two brothers; Jenny, Diane, Adam and Nathan. You can imagine growing up in Earth with a big family we were dirt poor. So I decided in high school (Go Wolverines!) that I would move and be a millionaire.

     Well, you can see how that turned out. Me, living in an apartment in Houston, waitressing tables at a local bar, and laboriously paying for school. At least I'm out of Earth. Life is never as it seems, all fairy tales and happily ever after's. You never meet your prince and fall in love. Life is just one repetitive cycle of work you never really get done. My work, as it turns out consists of washing dishes, cleaning counters, filling people's beer glasses, and dealing with obnoxious, drunken men.

       "Hey toots! Why don't you fill me up another cold one, huh?" I picked up the guys glass and filled it up with more beer. God, I hate work. It's almost as bad as school. Handing his glass to him, I say, "Last one. I'm cutting you off." He gave me a look that almost made me call for security. I got back to work. Three more hours of this hell hole and I'm free to go to study the ways of the ancients. Lucky me. It's not that I don't like history, don't get me wrong, history is my favorite. It's just that I'm not one for routine. I like variety, to mix things up when life gets too boring. Which is kind of ironic to be going to school to become a history major; studying the world's history as it repeats-war, reconstruction, peace, war... Well, you know the cycle. But, you know what they say, "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

       "Hank! I'm leaving!!" I yell eager to leave the place. Hank, refilling a lady's glass replies, "See you tomorrow." With not so much as a "bye" I run out of the building with my stuff and hop into my Volvo. I make a quick stop at my apartment to shower off the bar stink and grab my books, and again I'm off; headed toward Texas Southern University. I find a parking spot and quickly get out of my car. Don't want to seem too eager to get to class. I'm walking into the building when I realize I forgot my book in the Volvo. I stop and turn around, only to run into a very cute guy. He was wearing a gray shirt-- clingy in all the right places, a black leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and all black converse.

         "Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" I screech as I bend to pick up his papers. "Oh yeah, I'm fine, thanks." He said as he bent down to pick up his papers. I hurriedly grab his papers and shove them in his awaiting hands. Embarrassed I say, "I'm sorry. Hope you're okay," and rush out the door to retrieve my stupid history book.