Every story should be told. These are words by which every human being should live. The moment that a story is locked away and shielded from the sunlight is the time when those words, thoughts, lessons are denied existence. The story which will come from these pages is not true – that is why it is referred to as a "fan-fiction." But for every fan who falls asleep at night dreaming the world of the boys that are so perfectly idolized, this is for you. Because there is no prophecy that says that someday, you won't meet this perfection; there is no reason for you not to dream. So enjoy the story which is about to be told; immerse yourself in the butterflies, the heartache, the idea of what could be. Enjoy the humor, the characters, and the reality that radiates from them both. Unless you can name one, there is no reason not.
Before relationships and the complications of hormones, I believed in love at first sight. There was no reason for me not to assume that my fairytale would come true. Life was simple, friendships were easy, and boys had cooties. The moment that a girl focuses her attention on a boy and, receives attention in return, is the day that she leaves behind that world of prince charmings and ever afters. Because there is scientific proof that boys do not mature at the same rate as girls, and there is no evidence that a prepubescent fifth grade male can make that girl's dreams a reality. I didn't realize this hard hitting truth until I entered high school, and saw how unfair and cruel relationships can truly be.
I don't mean to sound pessimistic. Really, I hate pessimists. This world can be magical – just spend a week in Disney World, watch the Fourth of July fireworks with family and friends, go to a concert and feel the blood rushing through your veins. I have experienced magic, I don't deny that. But I don't think we all get as lucky as we should, or as we want to. So there was a time when I believed that every prince was merely a high school football player waiting to blossom into the man he was meant to become. There were days where I devoted hours to daydreaming about the perfect first kiss, and the Hollywood romance that might follow. But those days are long gone.
Of course, my thoughts are interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I am a devastatingly obvious product of my generation, so my phone stays on constantly, and goes off every few minutes. I answer. "Hello?"
On the other line, my friend Nick greeted me. "Hey, are you getting dinner soon?" I've found that the simplest questions surround our conversations. "Did you see that movie?" "Are you in the library?" Shockingly enough, this is the exact relationship for which I often pray.
"Yeah, we can go right now if you want to. I'll probably just go to the library after." True statement. As of late, I had become a library nerd.
"Okay, I have something that I wanted to talk to you about. I'll see you in a bit."
Why would anyone end a conversation with that phrase? "There's something that I wanted to talk to you about." Does he know my deepest, darkest secrets? Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? I wonder why in the world he would ever think that ending our already brief chat in a way such as that would be okay. That's Nick for you, though. Straight and to the point. And mysterious. All fairly annoying qualities if you ask me.
I spent the next fifteen minutes being lazy, then I sprayed some perfume and headed to the dining hall. That's one of my favorite parts about being in college – there is a place, on campus, where you can find a whole slew of different foods. Granted, they aren't always edible choices, but the fact of the matter still stands – it's like a magical buffet. I liked school just as much as I liked home, which was saying a lot since I was so homesick in the beginning. As a sophomore, however, I had finally pulled my act together and realized how lucky I am to be in such a wonderful place. I took the long way to dinner, taking in every aspect of my home away from home.
I found a booth in the dining hall and looked around, waiting for Nick to arrive. Another annoying quality of his – he is always late. If you tell him to be somewhere at 6:30, he thinks that means begin to get ready at 6:30, which usually ends with me waiting outside of his dorm for twenty five minutes as he wanders out at five to seven. As annoying as these qualities might be, he has still become a best friend, and I love him for them. Finally, his little head bobbed through the door.
"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Is there anything good tonight?" The answer is always no, so I just shook my head. The second I saw his face, I remembered that he wanted me to talk about something. I sipped on my water nervously as he walked around the hall.
When Nick got back and sat down, he proceeded to avoid any conversation of real importance. Much to my disdain, seeing as I had spent the last forty-five minutes having a near conniption fit over what he wanted to talk about. I let my anxiety get the best of me, and I caved.
"So, what did you want to talk about? You made it sound so serious."
He laughed. Why is he laughing? Ass, I thought. "No, it's not that serious. I met with my adviser today and he gave me some information about a summer abroad program that seems pretty cool."
Really? That was the big information? Nick and I are both education majors, so it isn't really an option for us to study abroad during the school year, but he had been toying with the idea of going during the summer. It'd be way too expensive for me, plus I thought it was too late to apply anyway, but I was excited for him all the same. "That's awesome. Are you going to do it?"
"I want to. It seems cool, but it's a raffle so there's no guarantee that I'll get in." He took out some forms from his backpack. "I thought that maybe you'd be interested."
I should probably make this clear right now. Nick and I have never, and will never, date. It isn't us. Besides the fact that I have about as much attraction to Nick as I do to the Swiffer in my closet, he is actually a really great friend to me, and great friends can be hard to find. Our relationship is so purely platonic that no one even questions us at this point – it's just fairly obvious that we've got that whole 'brother-sister, you annoy me, I hate you right now thing' going on. Nick inviting me on this summer abroad program is his way of giving me something to which I can look forward, not canoodling into my panties.
"I can't afford it, Nick." I thumbed through the brochures. "It looks amazing, but I just don't think it's an option."
"I know, that's why this program is better than the others. Since it's a raffle, whoever gets picked goes, all expenses paid. I guess it's the school's way of giving back or something. Obviously nothing is definite until your name comes out of the box, but they choose three students every year. I thought maybe it'd be worth a shot."
It did sound amazing. The idea that I could be spending the summer in any place of my choice…I hadn't even been able to picture it before. Suddenly, I was overcome with 'you're my best friend' love for Nick.
"Are you going to do it?"
"Of course, I think it'd be foolish not to." He was right. It would be foolish to pass up this opportunity. "I just have to talk to my mom about it, but I think it'll work out."
So here I am, sitting in the John F. Kennedy airport, waiting to fly out of New York. I applied for the program the day after Nick told me about it, and in a matter of two weeks, we had heard if we'd been chosen. Unfortunately, Nick's name wasn't picked – don't even get me started on the guilt I harbor to this very day – but mine was, along with two other guys from my school. We each had the opportunity to choose which country we'd be spending June through August in – one of the boys chose Australia (overachiever, obviously); the other chose Ireland (he seemed ready for the pubs); and I chose London. It was a tough one, because I have always wanted to live in France, but I figured that since I don't speak any French besides the numbers, London would be a better option. Plus, I've always really 'fancied' the culture of the English, so it's the perfect choice.
Even though it was hard to say goodbye to home for three whole months, I know that this is the right thing for me. I'm nervous to take the plane alone, and meet my flat-mate, and learn the layout of where I'm staying and everything, but I'm confident that I'll be okay. After all, after celebrating my twentieth birthday just a few weeks ago, I suddenly feel like a new girl.