new story! This will have 3 part that will be posted once a day. My sister helped a lot with this story so that's why it's better than the others. Please Review

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BLUE EYES

I could tell my college life was going to be a real rollercoaster ride. Not a dull moment, nope.

After all, it'd be hard to feel bored when you've taken up stalking as a hobby.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I wasn't one of those girls you'd see hiding in trees or camping on the lawns or sneaking into houses to steal the boxers of the guys they're 'in love' with. Of course not! Gosh, I was way more subtle than that.

I guess I hadn't been subtle enough, though, because my target was currently staring at me across the room. And – well, would you look at that! Was he laughing at me?

Though, he did look really good when he was being this happy. He was one of those guys who only looked slightly better-than-average with a straight face, but when he smiled – wham! It was like a sledge hammer swung down out of nowhere and hit you right in the heart.

For me, anyway.

And he had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Honest to God – they were this beautiful shade of ocean blue that I could see from miles away.

Alright, so that was an exaggeration. More like just half a room away. Their blueness was still unbelievably striking, though. That, coupled with the way his entire face lit up when he laughed, was almost enough to pull me across the room, place myself next to him, and introduce myself.

Just almost, mind you.

I wasn't that crazy yet.

I looked at him again. He'd stopped laughing and was instead focused on something his friend was telling him. The leftover remnants of a smile were still playing on his lips. I was probably staring a little too hard, because when his eyes suddenly flickered to the side, they caught mine. I froze under the onslaught of that blue gaze and he grinned.

This boy was enjoying my admiration a little too much. Egoistical, much?

Still, I supposed he looked good enough to warrant such a healthy ego. His eyes were so…blue. I hoped that was his real eye color, because if it wasn't, I was going to be so pissed.

Considering how I had already decided to nickname him Blue Eyes.

Speaking of whom had turned back to his friend while I was pondering the intricate mysteries of his blue eyes. He was so not interested. If he had been, he would've come over to introduce himself already. Not that I'd expected him to. I was just having fun admiring his beautiful eyes. That was all.

"Ughh," I said, mostly to myself, because let's face it – the only reason I was sitting on the couch checking out cute dark-haired, blue-eyed guys was because I was at a party alone. Who went to a college frat party alone? Actually, don't answer that. The main question was not why I'd gone alone, but why I was still alone.

Maybe it was the rabid stalker gaze I was fixing on Blue Eyes. I was scaring people off.

Diagnosis was the first step to finding the cure for the sickness. Or in my case, the solution to my aloneness. But first, I needed a drink.

A couple tequila shots later – okay, I lied, I only had one measly shot – I was living it up as the center of attention of the party. Alright, so that wasn't really true. I had a tendency to make myself sound a lot more exciting than I really was. Still, I had met some nice new people and done a fair bit of flailing about on the dance floor.

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was pure coincidence, but after the room had stopped spinning, I stepped out to "get some fresh air" – yeah, right, like there was any fresh air in a city like this – just in time to catch Blue Eyes heading off with his friend.

It was definitely the tequila and the subsequent four cans of beer acting up, because I wouldn't have done something like that if I'd been dead sober.

I followed him home.

That sounded wrong. No, I didn't so much as "follow" him as stalk. And it wasn't so much "home" as the dorms. But on the whole journey back, I was ten paces behind him and his friend.

Whenever one of them glanced back, I would hide myself behind the nearest lamp-post or telephone pole. In my inebriated state, I figured I was doing a pretty good job of hiding myself from them. The truth was, they probably knew exactly what I was doing the entire time. Even so, they made no move to stop me.

I probably puffed up Blue Eyes' ego rather nicely that night.

They let me follow them for as far as the main entrance of Halls of Residence Fourteen. In retrospect, it was a good thing that I chose to follow them rather than anybody else, because I ended up outside the dorms right beside my own block. Not that I'd realized that then. I was too busy trying to keep upright and in the shadows while watching the two of them enter their block.

There was the sound of the metal gate opening and I was mentally congratulating myself on a stalk well done when something happened to send my satisfaction down the drain. Blue Eyes paused in the act of walking just long enough to turn back and shout, "Good night!" Then with a flash of the smile I was coming to associate with him, he was gone. The gate clanged shut but I could still hear the sound of their laughter.

Sobering up all of a sudden, I sank to the ground. Well. Gosh. That had been embarrassing. I was never going to drink again, not if it drove me to do stupid things like following the first cute boy back to the dorms. Hopefully, I was probably never going to see him again. The school campus was huge, after all. What were the odds?

As it turned out, the odds were very much against me indeed.

For some reason, Blue Eyes started popping up every where I went. I saw him on my way to class. I saw him on my way back from class. I saw him at the in-campus grocery store; on the campus shuttle bus; in the cafeteria… Everywhere.

And every time my eyes met his – by accident, I swear, by accident– he would smile at me, as if he thought I was stalking him and was amused by it.

When I told my roommate Addison– who conveniently also happened to be my best friend – about him and my stalking experience that first night, her reaction wasn't what I'd been expecting.

"What kind of a stalker are you," she demanded, "to not even have a picture of him!"

This just went to show you never really knew a person, even after five years of friendship.

I stared at her. I'd been expecting an eye-roll at the very least, and an outright lecture on how stalking was for desperate girls who couldn't get a date – which I definitely wasn't so stop stalking random guys already! – at the very most. Not… this.

"What?" She shrugged, "You've got me curious!"

"I met him first!" I felt the need to clarify.

And here came the familiar eye-roll. Finally. I was just starting to worry my best friend's brain had been eaten by an alien. "Now you're just being childish," she sighed.

"I'm serious!" I insisted, resisting the temptation to stomp my foot and further proving her point. "I met him first, alright?"

She looked half-amused, half-irritated. "I'm not interested in him, Mer! Just curious as to what kind of guy it takes to have someone like you in such a twist."

"Oh. Good." I was basking in satisfaction that my best friend wasn't interested – that way – in Blue Eyes until I picked up on what she'd said. I scowled. "What do you mean, someone like me?"

She smirked. "Nothing. It's just that you have such high standards, I was beginning to think you were a lesbian!"

I threw a pillow at her. Trust my feminist best friend to make my interest in someone of the male persuasion sound like an insult!

It probably wouldn't have gotten much further than that if it hadn't been for the Bus Incident. Even though that was the name I christened it with, the Bus Incident really had very little to do with buses of any sort. I only call it the Bus Incident because it had happened because of the bus. Sort of.

See, I'd been waving to one of my friends aboard the shuttle bus driving by and walking backwards when I'd run straight into a warm body.

Imagine my surprise when I turned around, apologies on my tongue, only to come face-to-face with none other than Blue Eyes.

He looked at me and did a double take. "Oh, God," he said. "You're Stalker Girl!"

Well, would you look at that. He had a nickname for me too!

"You recognize me?" I said, with a little bit of wonder. Before I realized that I'd all but confessed to stalking him with those three words. Gosh. I should've feigned ignorance and escaped as soon as I could have.

I blamed it on those blue eyes of his. A glance into them and I would end up doing stupid things.

Stupid, stupid Meredith.

"Who wouldn't? You're suddenly everywhere I go."

His expression as he looked down on me was a mixture of a smile and a frown. It was like his facial muscles couldn't agree on what they wanted to do. Which was really a waste, because when they weren't disagreeing like this, his features made quite a pleasing picture. Although his nose seemed a little too crooked. But he had really nice cheekbones and a firm jaw-line.

And I realized I'd been staring again.

"Uh," I said, flustered. He'd been saying something before, hadn't he? "Right. Sorry for running into you like that. And sorry for that… other… night."

He laughed. There went my heart again.

I was saved from going into a cardiac arrest from prolonged exposure to his smile when he abruptly frowned and dug around in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. He glanced at the flashing screen and said apologetically to me, "Sorry, but I need to take this."

Belatedly, I realized his phone had been vibrating. He'd put it on silent mode, which explained why I hadn't heard any ringing. I wondered what his ringtone sounded like.

"It's fine," I said, watching as he turned a little away from me to answer his phone. Staring at his back view, I wondered if this was the time to politely make my escape. It wasn't like I needed to stick around––

Wait a minute. Was that…Russian?

All thoughts of escape vanquished, I pounced on him – metaphorically, of course – the moment he hung up.

"Was that Russian? You speak Russian? That's so cool!"

"It was German," he said dryly.

"Oh," I waved off my mistake. I liked German too. And French, and Italian… He looked a little wary but I didn't let it get to me, "You speak German? Are you German?"

"I was told i have German blood." he divulged, smiling just the slightest bit. I could tell he didn't want to stand here and continue listening to my crazy chatter, but manners were preventing him from walking away. Aw. Must've been the European blood in him.

"Really? I'm a surgical prodigy" I stated. Just then realizing why the hell am i even telling him this.

"Okay?" He was frowning a little bit now, looking skeptically at my blond hair and green eyes. I decided I didn't like it when he frowned. "Who exactly?

"Grey," I revealed. And I stood beaming at him.

"Right. And your name is?"

"Meredith."

"Meredith Grey?" He raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling again.

"Yeah. And i don't wan't you to think of me or anything else because of my last name. I was gonna change it once, seriously almost changed it. I was sick of Grey, and i don't even know why i told you. Wanted to go by Green, to stick with the color thing. But then Meredith Blue or Red would be acceptable too." I rambled a bit then shrugged.

He looked amusedly exasperated. "You…" he closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to dredge out that elusive word from the back of his mind, and settled on, "are confusing."

"And you really have the most amazing eyes I've ever seen," I said.

Oops. What the hell.

He was smiling, though. I supposed he found my obsession with him – with his eyes, rather – amusing. "Thanks," he said, said eyes dancing when I looked into them.

Without quite knowing how, we found ourselves heading to the nearest bus stop, where we spent the next hour sitting on the benches and getting to know each other. I found out that he was in his sophomore year, a Business major, and one of the nicest guys I'd ever had the fortune to meet.

"I have to go," he said eventually. "I have a class at four."

"What do you mean at fo–– Oh crap! It's four!" I scrambled for my bag. "I have a class at three thirty!"

He grinned. I'd come to realize he smiled a lot. "Oops." He stood up along with me, flicking a cursory glance over the textbook I'd taken out. What? It'd been weighing down my bag! It wasn't like I was trying to look studious or anything. So that, you know, he wouldn't think I was only good at stalking. "Psycology? Fun."

"It gives me an excuse to do crazy things," I said cheekily.

He raised his eyebrows. "Like stalking guys you've just met?"

I lifted my chin. "I could say it was a social experiment for my thesis paper."

He laughed. "You could."

Hugging the book to myself, I adjusted the strap of my bag and hesitated. "So… will you be here again tomorrow?"

He eyed me suspiciously, even though the impact of it was reduced by the twitch of his lips. "Why? Are you going to conduct your 'social experiment' on me again?"

I grinned. "Maybe."

I was kidding, of course. I was. Really! Sort of. Probably.

…Maybe.