When someone told me I should write my story, I never exactly thought that I'd take her seriously. Even when this person was my best friend, Morgan.

Lately she's been all about finding me my talent, or well as she says 'groove'. My life isn't very interesting, but….I guess you will have to be the judge of that.

"Earth to Gwen!" My locker slammed shut in my face, causing my pencil to go askew on the page. I frowned, and pushed the ever-present lock of curly hair out of my eyes.

"What? I was taking you seriously." I complained, the edge only slightly coming into my voice, as I began to erase the squiggle of a line she'd caused me to make.

"Hello, don't take me that seriously!"Morgan dropped my journal in my bag, and quickly brushed some lip-gloss over my scuffed lips. "Preppies and jocks at four o'clock."

For finally being in University, I was beginning to figure that we still used a hell lot of our high school terminations.

I had never liked the overall amount of noise that boys make in general. Maybe that is why I've….never…had a date. I absentmindedly pulled at the curl again, already bored. How was leaning up against the hallways to impress boys any use? It sure didn't seem to be, when all they did was wink at the cute ones and lumber on pass the plain-janes. Well, the plain-janes being me.

I watched with an almost gaping mouth at Morgan's expert flirtations, and find myself wishing I was invisible. Morgan had her first boyfriend in the fourth grade, and lost her virginity as a freshman in high school. Why do I bother remembering? Because, I, Guinevere Wren Thomas was the little nerd who always followed at her heels, pathetically.

My thoughts have wondered, and the boys have mostly gone. Well, all but….one. Why was that one staring at me?

Blushing several shades of a bright pink, I look away. Up, down, spinning around. Don't I wish I was anywhere but here? The first time a boy notices me, and I totally blow it.

Stunning blonde hair, blue eyes are surprisingly not what I notice. He's kicking a football to the beat of some music, playing three rooms down.

I smile in spite of myself, and he winks. How daring, to wink at someone he doesn't even know! His backpack bounces along to the rhythm that he's creating with the ball, and I have a hard time catching the name that is scrawled messily on the tags.

Arthur Pendragon.

I pull out my journal, desperately squiggling.

This is where my life changes.

Well, in all my daydreaming, not a single change has happened to my life. Doors still slam in my face, and I am still perpetually late for class. It was just a wonderful boy, with a wonderful smile, who is wonderfully out of my league.

His name still lingers too my brain, sticking like a tag. I can't lose it. Maybe I don't want to?

I slam my journal shut, unable to concentrate on my scrawling. A rather intoxicated Morgan stumbles into our apartment. I am unsure whether to me frustrated, or amused.

After all, she is quite a cute drunk.

"Morgan. Lie down." I say quietly, but apparently she can't hear me, as she has just run into the wall on her way to the bathroom. "Morgan?"

I hear puking from the bathroom, and sigh. I'll have to clean it up before room check in the morning. With all the rule breaking she does, one would have thought that she'd be practically immunized to the consequences. Apparently not.

I pour a glass of soda, and fearfully advance into the bathroom. She does look miserable.

"You should know better by now, love." I smooth away her black hair from her face, and wipe it clean.

"Dun wanna know better…" She says quietly, sniffing.

"What happened tonight?" I bite back the retort. Whatever she needs right now, it isn't that. "Did you get in a fight with…?" Could I blame myself for not remembering her boyfriend's name? She broke up, and made up with them every two weeks.

Morgan nodded dismally, but didn't recount his name to me.

"C'mon, let's go to bed." I put an arm around her waist, and helped her into one of the two beds in the dorm. "There's room check tomorrow…." It was a weak mention, and I know I'll be doing it anyway. That doesn't make cleaning up puke at 2 A.M fun, however.

"Canna you do itt?" She moans, placing a pillow over her head.

I nod, and look around the room. It will be a busy night.

It must have been 4 A.M when I finally flopped into bed. I am beginning to see, that my life really isn't interesting, and in many ways I really am a 'Plain Jane'. Maybe I should have taken that as a compliment when I could have. I mean, this morning, Morgan's party girl self doesn't look too happy.

Or rested.

Did I mention she was up puking until four? It was a long night. Not that I expect things to change. I must have been crazy when I wrote that. Crazy, or crazy embarrassed.

I slipped my diary into my backpack, deciding to go for a walk, while Morgan was finally knocked out.

The air was fresh, and swung through my hair like it wanted to dance. I giggled, and looked in a puddle at my jumbled reflection.

"Wow….." Now that was not unexpected, seeing as I'd spent most of the night awake. The clock tower struck noon, but surprisingly not many others were up and around.

Maybe that wasn't so bad. I smiled, and making sure no one was looking, jumped into the puddle.

Water splashed up around my jeans, and even high enough up to hit my bronze cheeks. I did it again. And again.

Not a person to see! Perhaps I was rethinking solitude being a bad thing.

"That looks like fun."

Oh. My. God. Yes, solitude. I'd go hide in a hole forever. I turned, clutching my bag to my chest, as if it could hide me. "H-Hi…"

It was him. Arthur. That beautiful name that I hadn't been able to get out of my head. Well, more importantly, that beautiful boy was standing right in front of me!

I remained silent, my thoughts pounding through my head, afraid I'd blow it again.

He got the wrong impression. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you." Arthur tossed his ball towards another near puddle, seeming to find delight when it splashed.

I felt surprise crawl up my skin. I had heard these words before, but why did this time they seem so different? "My name…it's Guinevere."

I was….smiling?

Maybe, my craziness….I'd like to hang onto it. Forever and ever?