Meat [meet] n.
1. the flesh of animals as used for food.
"I ended up going for one of the highest bids of the night and Debbie got all drunk and kept calling me 'Hot Bod' all around the bar. The whole thing was so gross."
"Aren't there laws against auctioning off women to a bunch of drunk, horny men, even if it is for charity? Greek life is so weird, Carly."
Carly shrugged and continued to leisurely walk alongside Freddie through the mall. "On the bright side, the sorority raised a ton of money. Still, I felt icky…like a piece of meat."
She turned her head at the sound of Freddie chuckling under his breath. "Something funny, Benson?"
"Yes, very," he replied instantly.
"What?"
"Did you know that Sam wrote a blog years ago about the week we dated?" Freddie asked.
Confused by the sudden change in topic, Carly slowly replied, "nooooo."
"Well, she did," he continued, "and the amount of detail is astonishing. People still call me foreign bacon. Still. Carly, I literally get compared to meat almost every day."
"That's entirely different!" Carly shrieked.
Freddie scoffed. "Yeah, you're the gorgeous cut of steak and I'm the geeky, reliable, hopeless slice of Bolivian pork."
Carly stepped in front of Freddie and stopped them outside of the Funky Duck shoe store. "If it makes you feel any better," she placated, "the next time we date, I'll make sure you're compared to something much more important." She glanced at the store next to them, then turned back to Freddie and gave a quick nod to the window display. "Like shoes!"
She turned around on her heels and continued walking, hiding a coy smile and leaving a speechless Freddie in her wake.
Meet [meet] v.
2. to become acquainted with; be introduced to
Your hands.
Your hands were the first things I noticed about you. They were almost all long, slender fingers and delicate nail beds. What I loved most about them was how you would unclench them, then curl your fingers just slightly, like you wanted to grab something, anything… I saw it as an early sense of curiosity. I like to think you got that from me.
When you eventually opened your eyes, there was a special warmth there. I expected them to betray a sense of terror (and rightfully so, it being your first glimpse of the real world). Instead, there was a genuine happiness there and, more importantly, a certain excitement to be there with us. Those eyes were clearly a gift from your mother.
And then I took you in entirely: bright eyes, flexing fingers, tiny shoulders carrying weighty expectations. While your mother hoped that old videos of her singing would inspire you to take voice lessons and I prayed that your first video game would spark a love for technology, I anticipated the days when we'd all sit down and watch vintage iCarly episodes as we talked to you about exploring your creativity to its highest potential. That was the scene that I clung to for the previous 32 weeks, ever since we first found out about you. And once you arrived, healthy and safe, that scene became more of a reality than it ever was. How overwhelmingly beautiful.
And all I could say as I held you, between the tears and the kisses, was "I'm so, so happy to finally meet you," over and over again.
A/N: Happy Saturday! I hope you enjoyed this installment. If you liked it, hated it, wish for the day that I decide to never sit in front of a crappy laptop again...why don't you leave it in a review?! I enjoy reading them and they inspire me to keep going. If you wish to silently lurk, that's cool, too. I love all my readers. :o)
Also, if you're following iHit the Open Road II and you haven't done so already, please read the latest chapter, chapter 15. I hope you like it!
Thank you all so much for reading and continuing to support! I appreciate you all so much.
Have a great weekend and Hollaatchyagirl,
Phunky