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"I don't know why I'm here, Alice. You know I hate these places. I'm totally wasting a babysitter." We're sitting in a sticky booth at the local bar. I'm hoping that whatever I sat on and wet my skirt is a spilled drink and not some bodily fluid. The usual swarm of losers that go to college with me are wandering around trying to find a warm, willing body to take to their dorm room. You know, to celebrate the end of finals. Nothing says academic accomplishment like a drunken one night stand.

Or barfing up a lung...like that guy is doing over there.

Yeah, so...good times. Not even the cheap beer helps.

"Shut it, Bell. You don't even go to 'these places.' You only go to the lab and the baseball park. You need to be where the eligible men and alcohol are - and the wino who hangs out by the dumpster doesn't count." I watch as Alice chugs her beer. She's little, but she can hold her liquor.

"Sam is a sweet old man," I protest.

"Right, and I'm sure he's available," she says with a smirk. I roll my eyes in response.

We both watch as a random dude burps the Greek alphabet. "So you call these burnouts 'eligible'?" I gesture to the nearest douchebag attempting to entertain a table of his peers with his gaseous talent. How did these losers get admitted to college?

"Bella..." Alice sighs. "Okay. Maybe not him. Just be open to a possibility."

"All right." I hold up my hands in surrender. "But I'm just saying, if one more loser wearing a hideous Ed Hardy tee comes over here and starts talking about his workout regimen or his frat, I'll...shit." I stop talking because I see a man (I don't have other words and "god" is so cliche) taking a slow pull from a longneck. At that moment, I never wanted to be gripped and sucked so bad in my life.

"Gawd, Bella. That's so wrong. I hope you don't mention your bodily functions when you're talking to these guys. Not even your awesome rack will help you then. Well, maybe, because guys are pervs."

I don't even flinch at the derision in her vocal ramblings because I'm not really paying attention, and the man I just spotted across the bar is so hot it's not fair to the other men. And I don't mean the men in the bar.

We're talking unfair-to-the-rest-of-the-world level of hotness.

My mouth is agape (seriously, it's wide open) as I stare at the guy of my dreams grinning at something the bartender says. No, that's not true. My dreams aren't this vivid. They mostly consist of me having a mocha with the dude from Thor. Better-than-Thor's plain, white t-shirt is stretched across his obviously muscular chest and biceps. Lucky fucking shirt. If only I could be spread across his torso. He's tanned, like he spends time in the sun...probably modeling for a fitness magazine or a swimsuit calendar. I bet he smells like sunshine. And his face...damn. His eyes are bright and...shit, looking right at me. I turn away, mortified at being caught.

If I had any balls at all, I would go over there and say something before he leaves. But of course, I'm ball-less, and I just watch him walk away. Sigh. Like I'd even know what to do with him if I stopped him. Lick his jaw, maybe?

I'm vaguely aware of my best friend snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. "What the hell are you staring at? Please tell me it's the guy who just left and not a psychotic break from reality."

"Um, guy?" I'm still a little dazed.

"Oh good. I was worried that you were going to become celibate. Well, stay celibate. Angela and I are planning a man-tervention."

I don't even ask what that would consist of. Probably some gay porn, wine, and sex toys. Basically a re-do of my cousin Tanya's bachelorette party. How that would help me get a man...

"I'm not celibate. I'm...being selective."

"Whatever. Selective implies that there will eventually be a selection. So, do you know him? He can't be one of those beaker geeks."

"Hey, I'm one of those beaker geeks."

"Kidding. So, what does he look like? All I saw was copper hair."

"That's not a hair-color. That's atomic number 29."

"It's also Loreal number 74. Don't start with the chemistry bullshit unless it's sexual chemistry."

I sigh. "I've never seen him before, he's gorge, and he gave me a giant lady boner. That's all I know."

"Gross. Now I'm picturing a hermaphrodite. I hope your 'man in the boat' isn't that big."

I laugh loudly. Okay, I snorted.

"Maybe that's why I haven't had many boyfriends. They don't like chicks with dicks."

Alice sighs and looks in my eyes. "You're amazing Bella, but you need to take off that lab coat more often and get out there. The only guys you see are Professor Banner and Seth. You're only twenty-two, but you have the social life of a forty-seven year old cat lady."

"Lies. I hate cats."

She gives me the bitchface. I respond with a middle finger.

"Seriously, the old broads on that stupid show you watch get more action than you do."

True. Blanche is a playa.

"What would you have me do, Alice? Just grab some random guy and say 'let's fuck'?"

"That would work...but that's not who you are. Please, just think about yourself for once. Not Seth. Not your mom or dad or Phil."

Just me?

I don't know how to do that.

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A/N Thanks to all those who read, reviewed, and alerted. I enjoyed reading your theories about Seth.

Cosmogirl has my undying devotion and love.

More Goiterward tomorrow.