
So you met a boy. A perfect boy. A boy who loves True Life marathons and Frosted Mini Wheats as much as you do. A boy who kissed you on the cheek after walking you home and took your number (instead of drunk-friending you on Facebook). You totally heart him.
After coming in the house and telling your roommates all about how sweet and funny and “OMG he was wearing the hottest jeans,” you lay in bed thinking about him. And make a mental note to get a bikini wax ASAP, because you will most definitely be seeing him (in the buff) sometime soon.
You spend the next day clutching your phone, willing it to ring. You take it to the library, the gym and even into the bathroom. You jump every time the phone rings and mentally prepare yourself to turn on the charm, only to realize it’s a friend or, of course, your mom. Finally, you receive a text message:
Hungover in the library. Not fun
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