A/N - I was planning on posting this on Friday, but since it's Valentine's day...HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

Chapter 3

Friday morning found me sitting on the bench in the secluded memorial garden. Hardly anyone came here, which was the exact reason I was there. I had to get away from all the people and all the attention.

"Now what's a girl as popular as you doing all alone in the memorial garden?" I heard someone ask. I looked up and found a heavyset custodian with hedge trimmers in his gloved hands.

"What makes you think I'm popular?" I asked. "I'm just a freshman."

"Seriously? Sweetie, I may just be a janitor, but I'm not stupid. I've watched everyone ask you about some big party some of the seniors are throwing and apparently you're the only freshman they invited. Your popularity levels have gone through the roof."

I sighed and buried my face in my hands. "Great. Just what I wanted."

He took the seat next to me and set the hedge trimmers on the grass next to him. "I personally don't get why you're complaining. I would have killed to get invited to at least one cool party in high school. People were too busy calling me a fag to invite me to anything. I'm Joe, by the way." He held out his hand, sans the glove and I shook it.

"I'm Meredith." After letting out a long breath, I told him, "I guess I should be grateful that I got invited, but I never wanted any of this. I don't like the attention."

Joe nodded. "That's understandable. So are you going or not?"

I shrugged. It seemed somewhat comical that I was telling him all of these things when I wouldn't even tell Izzie or George, but I had the feeling that he wouldn't tell anyone. He had one of those faces, the ones you knew you could trust. "I'm going, but only because my friend wants me to take her."

"Well I hope you have fun anyways. I'm vicariously reliving my high school years through you kids, you know."

I laughed. "I'll do it for you, Joe."

He smiled back. "Thanks."

The rest of the day didn't seem so bad after that. Everyone seemed to accept the fact that I was taking Izzie, so they stopped asking me about it. George was happier about this than I was, though; since he was friends with me, people thought he was a connection to the party. Needless to say, he was sick of the attention too.

"I am not your secretary!" he screamed one time at lunch. "If you get invited to another party in the future, Mer, I'll kill you."

Ever since I got invited to the party, things between Cristina and I were starting to get less tense. She called me twice more for the homework assignment and she actually answered me when I asked her a question in class. I wasn't sure if it was because she was picking up on my "popularity vibes" as Joe called them or something else, but it was nice not to be considered her enemy.

The night of the party, my mom dropped me off at Izzie's. "I'm coming to pick you girls up at twelve o'clock, okay? No exceptions." I nodded and told her thank you as she drove off. Her puzzlingly cheerful mood, though not as potent as the first day, managed to last throughout the week, leaving her disconcertingly agreeable.

Before I even rang the doorbell, Izzie threw open the door, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in. "Finally! I need your opinion on what I should wear. Come with me to my room."

After making a brief introduction with her parents, she hauled me to her room and gestured to her bed. Neatly laid out were three separate outfits: one was a light pink sweater set with a darker pink and white pleated skirt, a white, long-sleeved button-down blouse with a vest and dark dress pants, and a turquoise colored top with a square neckline paired with a pair of skinny jeans.

"Which one should I wear? I can't decide!" she wailed hysterically.

"Calm down," I soothed. I looked at the outfits a little longer and started placing different tops with different bottoms. Mark said dress to impress, so I said, "Wear the dress pangs with the turquoise top."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you so much, Mer. I was freaking out there for a moment." Taking her clothes, she walked out of her room and down the hallway into what I assumed was the bathroom so she could change.

While she was gone, I took the opportunity to look around her room. She was meticulously clean, almost to a fault. Her bed was made with hospital corners; the items on her dresser were carefully arranged, all her jewelry in their boxes and all her makeup placed in order of application. The carpet looked freshly vacuumed, because the vacuum lines were still there. As I waited for her to come back from the bathroom, I decided to hang up her clothes. Luckily, I realized that her closet was color coordinated (by order of the rainbow) and managed to put her clothes away.

She came back from the bathroom looking amazing. "What do you think?" she asked as she twirled.

"You look really pretty," I said approvingly. "What about me?"

Izzie looked me up and down and gave me an I-don't-know-where-to-begin look. "Well, the color you chose is nice…"

"But…?" I prompted her. I'd rather she tell me straight up right then and there that I looked like crap before we left for the party only to have a million seniors there laugh at me.

"It's all wrong, Mer," she blurted out. "It's frumpy and…ugh, it just doesn't suit you." Without another word, she crossed the floor to her closet and pulled out a dress in the same shade of pink I had on. "Here, try this on and…" she pulled out a magenta/red bolero cardigan. "You're a little smaller than me, but it should still look fine. The bathroom's at the end of the hall on the left."

I held Izzie's selections in my outstretched arms. I wasn't really much of a dress girl, especially since this one was sparkly and form-fitting, but it was worth a shot. I didn't want to look horrible tonight.

I quickly slipped the skirt over my head, pulled the cardigan on and returned to her room with my clothes over my arms. "What about now?"

Izzie was at her mirror applying some eyeliner when she turned to look at me. "Seriously, Mer, that is so much better, I can't even begin to explain."

"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly. "It feels too low cut…and it's too sparkly," I added as I frowned at my reflection in Izzie's full length mirror.

"No, you look great. Do not even consider changing."

"But this feels so much more formal than what you're wearing."

She snorted. "I make this look like it's formal, Mer. Don't worry about it."

After she finished her makeup, she turned her beautifying skills on me. We had basically the same coloring, so a lot of her make up worked for me. By the time she was finished, she turned me to face the mirror and I couldn't help but gasp. "Wow, Izzie…" I murmured. "You're amazing."

She smirked. "I know."

She said my hair was perfect as it was, so she brushed through my curls a couple of times and she declared herself perfect. "Okay, we're hot and sexy. Let's go."

Izzie bounded down the stairs while I struggled for a little while. I wasn't quite as used to wearing heels as she was. After receiving a well meant lecture from both of Izzie's parents, we piled up into Mr. Stevens' car and he drove us to Derek's place.

After ten minutes, his house swam into view and took my breath away. He didn't live in a neighborhood, because his house was way too big. He lived in a mansion nestled in the forest on the edge of a lake complete with a long, circular driveway with a fountain in the middle, huge, old-fashioned, wrought iron lanterns, and balconies jutting out of the side.

Izzie grabbed my hand as Mr. Stevens pulled into the driveway. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, but inside I was just as nervous as she was. This party could quite possibly make or break our high school careers; it was only natural to be nervous.

"Okay, girls," Mr. Stevens said as he stopped the car. "Have fun, and remember what we told you."

We nodded hurriedly and slipped out of the car. As Mr. Stevens' car drove off, I pulled out a sheet of star stickers and stuck one on Izzie's right hand, then mine. "Ready?" I asked her. Her face was shining in nervous excitement and she seemed to glow in anticipation.

"Now or never."

With borrowed confidence, we strode up to the front doors of the house and flashed our starred hands to the security guard. He nodded and gestured for us to come in. The sight that greeted our eyes practically floored us.

Thousands of teenagers, dressed in nice clothes, were milling around the house sipping glasses of fizzy champagne and talking with each other. Mark spotted the two of us and smiled. "Hey, Grey! Over here!"

I took Izzie's hand and led her to where Mark, Derek, Addison, and a boy I had never met before stood. "Grey, I'd like you to meet Preston Burke, the man whose honor we are throwing this party."

Izzie and I smiled at him. He was a very tall, imposing man, but he currently wore a gentle smile. "Hello," we greeted as we shook his outstretched hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he informed us. "How do my friends know you?"

"We're freshmen at Seattle Grace," Izzie informed him.

"Yeah, Derek slammed Meredith against a locker on the first day," Addison teased as she playfully winked at me. "I heard all about it, and I would just like to apologize for my boyfriend's bad manners."

"It wasn't deliberate," Derek sighed exasperatedly. "And I wouldn't have slammed her against the locker if Mark wasn't pushing me."

"Hey, I'm not to blame for the second time," Mark pointed out with his hands raised in defense. "That was all on you, dude."

Burke raised his eyebrows but smiled. "I'm glad to see that nothing's changed since I left. What else has happened?"

Izzie and I listened as the old friends reminisced and discussed the latest gossip at Seattle Grace. In return, Burke regaled us with stories about France and we listened in fascination. Izzie and I asked questions every so often and he answered them with such affability and easiness, that our nervousness slowly ebbed away.

After they ran out of stories, Derek asked Addison to dance with him and she agreed. As they made their way to the ballroom, Burke asked Izzie and Mark asked me. After shooting each other loaded glances, we graciously accepted their hands and let them lead us to the ballroom.

"So how are you liking the party so far?" Mark asked as he took one hand in his and wrapped the other around my waist.

"It's a lot more different than I thought it would be," I confessed. "I thought it would be a booze fest with people spooning on the couches and making out and stuff."

Mark grimaced. "You've been watching too many teen flicks, Grey. Besides," he added with a wink. "Derek's parents are here. That's why it was invite only."

I raised my eyebrows. "And you risked inviting two naïve little freshmen?"

His hand tightened around my waist and he flashed me that same seductive smile as he did the first day of school. "It paid off, didn't it?"

My cheeks fired up again as I looked down. "Why are you paying so much attention, to me, Mark?" I asked him bluntly. Mark Sloane wasn't the kind of senior that would pay attention to a freshman.

"You intrigue me, Grey," he whispered softly in a way that made me shiver. "The first time I saw you, I knew you were different from any other girl I'd ever met."

I brought my gaze up and looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you really mean that? Because I get the impression that you've pulled that line on a lot of girls before."

His eyes were serious as he replied, "I mean it, Grey. That's why I invited you tonight, because you're special to me, and I want to know why."

The sincerity in his words couldn't be contested. I knew he meant them, and that should have made me happy…right?

I rested my head against his chest and tried to savor the moment. A million girls would kill for chance like this; I should be living it up.

I spent the rest of the night at Mark's side. He introduced me to his friends and we chatted about inconsequential things. Everyone took note of the fact that his hand rarely left the small of my back. When Izzie saw this, she raised her eyebrows at me and I widened my eyes back at her, as if to say, "Later."

Surprisingly enough, I had a good time. I didn't think I would, especially since I hardly knew anyone there, but Mark had a lot to do with it. Right before my mom came to pick us up, he asked me if he could call me sometime. I shyly consented and he gave me a warm hug before handing us in the car.

"Who was that?" my mother asked curiously as Mark walked away.

"That was Mark. He was the one who invited us."

My mother nodded and drove off. She asked us about the party all the way home; Izzy answered most of the questions. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to listen to the two of them.

When we got to Izzie's house, she gave me a big hug and thanked me again for taking her with me. "It was so much fun, Mer," she gushed. "Seriously, I can't thank you enough."

I smiled back. "Anytime. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded and I watched as she walked into her house.

The next morning, I called Izzie just as I promised and the first words out of her mouth were, "What is going on between you and Mark Sloane?"

I sighed. I had expected this, but that still didn't mean I had an answer. "I don't know," I confessed. "He told me last night that I was special to him, and he wanted to know why. That's why he invited me."

Izzie squealed. "Seriously? Omigosh, Mer! That is so awesome! He totally likes you!"

"Thank you," I said dryly. "Thank you, Izzie Stevens, for pointing that out to me. I never could have guessed."

"So how do you feel about him?" she asked.

I paused for a moment. How did I feel about him? Whenever he looked at me, I felt shy, but that's what all the movies and romance novels said I should feel like. And he was really nice, and he paid me a lot of compliments last night. If anything, I was truly touched by his kindness to Izzie and myself, since we didn't know anyone. Not to mention, he's one of the hottest guys in school.

"I like him," I told her. "He's so sweet and really thoughtful. How could I not?"

A/N - Just because you think you know the shippage, doesn't mean that you really do. Please keep in mind people that we're only on chapter three, and I do believe this story is under the category of drama.

So now that we've got that squared away, let's play a game of Simon Says! Simon says...hit the review button and leave me a nice, long review!