Author's Note: Hello pals. Don't really know what to say, which is strange because usually I don't shut up. Obviously it would be really great if you could review this and pretend you like it, but I'm not going to nag you too much because I'm polite.

Just as all bad stories start – I was drunk and crying in a bathtub. Obviously the situation wasn't ideal, especially seeing as the bathroom didn't have a lock and I had to be really quiet so I wouldn't be discovered. I didn't want anyone to find me crying in a bathtub because, oh – how sad is that? But really, I was much more concerned about the negative connotations that accompany listening to people do their 'business.' The last thing I needed, apart from more alcohol, was to be labeled as some sort of bathroom pervert.

I could imagine how bad it would be, being not only one of the only recent graduates who couldn't get into college, but also a bathroom pervert. I wasn't entirely upset about college though – or lack of college, I should say. That wasn't the reason I way crying in the bathroom. I wasn't crying about the job I would be due to start soon either, even though it was quite a sad job. I wasn't even sad that my future career options would most likely lie in a frozen yogurt store.

What I was crying about was too painful to think of, especially when there was a tap poking into my back and a person urinating to the left of me. I wanted to get out of the bathroom – I really did. It's quite hard to feel sorry for yourself when there is someone else, presumably half-naked and unaware of your presence, in the room. That train of thought is what encouraged me to use the window. I mean obviously I couldn't use the door to leave. Judging by the sounds from outside the bathroom, most of the party had moved inside, making it impossible to leave without being noticed. If I were noticed I could imagine the questions; "I didn't see you go into the bathroom," and "what are you – some kind of bathroom pervert?"

It wasn't a particularly large window either; at least it wasn't large enough for my particularly large bottom. It wasn't even large in a good way either – not the large ass in yoga pants kind of large. It was more of a 'too many cakes' kind of large, which made it quite difficult to shimmy yourself out of a window. I did make it out, however, and lost my balance because of course those kinds of things happen to me.

I almost did a tremendous flip trying to scramble back into the window, flailing my limbs around in what I'm sure was an attractive manner. I landed in some unfortunately placed petunias at the bottom of the window. I wouldn't say they broke my fall (because my large ass was killing me, despite being so, well, large) but they were broken in the sense that the flowers had gone all limp and pathetic-looking.

I made the mistake (the mistake other than jumping out a window) of assuming nobody had seen. I brushed soil off me in a last attempt of dignity and caught a group of attractive boys – well, men really, staring at me. Not in the flattering way though, it was all raised eyebrows and sympathetic looks. None of those, "I'd hit that if she didn't just jump out a window" sorts of looks either. I caught the eyes of one in particular, and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He exclaimed something that I couldn't hear to the group and they all looked at him, a little surprised.

It was all quite peculiar and suspicious, so I did my best at trying to shuffle away before I was murdered. The boy with the abnormally arched eyebrows spotted me and started to make his way over. I did my best not to look around nervously for a weapon, or a good hiding place.

"You just fell out of a window." He told me, as if I didn't know.

I looked at him. "I prefer gracefully catapulted from a window, actually."

He looked as though he was stuck between laughing and uncomfortably edging away. I did notice how good looking he way though. He had cropped hair and this smooth copper skin that made my insides go all fluttery. He was, however, in the dark, and I wasn't wearing my glasses so for all I knew, he could be marginally disfigured.

"I'm Seth." He said, holding out a hand.

I stared at the hand, wondering what to do with it.

"Do you want me to shake your hand?" I asked him, slightly perplexed. "That's so –"

"Normal? Handshakes are quite a common gesture in Western culture, I believe." He said, looking at me in a strange way.

"I was going to say mature. Adults shake hands, and I don't know about you but I do not class myself as an adult." I told him firmly.

"You must be at least seventeen or eighteen." He said in exasperation. "How can you not class yourself as an adult?"

"I barely even know how to tie my shoes, let alone pay bills and understand taxes!" I exclaimed.

That got a laugh from him, even though I was completely serious. I still lived with my Gran and couldn't keep my room tidy. I was barely independent and my only link to freedom was a beat-up car I still had to pay my Gran back for.

"Your name at least?" He asked.

"Oh," I said, obviously lacking in the common sense and memory department. "Ginger. I'm Ginger."

"You don't look like a Ginger." He said, eyes trailing up to the dishwater blonde mop on my head.

"Idiot colorblind parents who should obviously be reported to social services." I explained briefly. I've had this conversation many times before.

"I'm joking about the social services thing," I told him quickly when his eyebrows did that raising thing again.

"I assumed." He nodded. "However, I'd like to know if we're going to address the whole throwing yourself out of a window thing."

"Oh – that." I said, as if I had forgotten all about it. "I was stuck in a bathtub and didn't want to look like a bathroom pervert."

"I do have quite a few questions about that. Firstly, why were you stuck in a bath?"

"I wouldn't say stuck, I mean my ass is quite large-" I paused to let my face go an unattractive shade of red. "However, I wasn't stuck in the bath in the sense that I couldn't get out. I mean, maybe metaphorically I couldn't get out except I don't know what metaphorically means. I was just crying and I'm not a bathroom pervert. I'm really not."

"Why were you crying?" He asked, surprising me with a concerned expression.

I surveyed him critically, and leaned a little closer. "It just so happens that my best friend, Magus, is gay. It just so happens that I am convinced I am in love with him."

"And you thought the best course of action was to cry in the bathroom like a bathroom pervert?" He asked.

"I'm not known for my logical thinking." I told him dryly.

"That's quite apparent." He said with an annoying smirk.

I supposed that was my queue to leave and find Magus, who I supposed was looking for me now and did not have the sense to check the bathtub. He's always been quite useless by himself, and I'm also meant to be staying at his house tonight. These arrangements were obviously made before he came out to me after a couple of drinks and I had broken down in the bathroom.

"Well, this has been really – er, something." I said uncomfortably, shuffling away a bit. "But I should leave. Places to be, people to do and all that."

"People to do?" He asked quizzically, eyebrows raised.

I backed away a bit more, hoping I'd fall off a cliff or suffer a fatal accident just to avoid further embarrassment.

"Can I at least get your number or something?" He asked, giving me a hopeful glance.

I blinked a couple of times. "My number? For what?"

"To contact you – obviously. Regular people do this over something called a telephone, which is this device that –"

In order to shut him up, I scrawled my number sloppily on his arm. In a way I hoped it faded or smudged off, seeing as I turned into an ineloquent fool around this guy. But in another way, I also hoped he'd call me within five minutes and beg me to have his babies.

After escaping the awkward encounter, I started my search for Magus. Usually he's quite difficult to find and requires a search party to look for him, especially when he's drunk. One I found him in a cupboard under a sink, passed out.

Obviously his exceptional hide-and-seek skills aren't the reason I'm convinced I'm in love with him, although they do add to his appeal. He introduced me to obscure bands, old knitted cardigans and milky tea. He works in an old bookshop and reads Russian literature, and although I'm convinced he's slightly pretentious, he's also probably a genius.

I did end up finding him crouched under a table, of all places. I joined him, not even questioning why he was under a table, seeing as I was hiding in a bathtub not too long ago.

"Pleasant evening?" I asked, handing him a beer.

"I was looking for you," He told me. "And yes, I've got a killer headache though."

"I'm sure it will be worse by the morning." I assured him kindly.

I took a sip of his beer and gave me a look of scrutiny. "You look way too pleased. Usually your face is all unpleasant and scrunched up."

"Someone asked me for my number." I said, trying not to feel the sting of unattractiveness.

"Someone being an actual boy?" He asked, sounding impressed. "Was he cute?"

"Yes, he looked quite old but you know how I like my men like fine wine – matured." I lied, because obviously I like my men gay.

"Please don't try to seduce my dad or anything when we get back to mine." He said.

"Speaking of which, can we leave now?" I asked, because the music was bad and there were too many of my peers here.

"I suppose so. You don't mind walking do you?" He said, crawling out from under the table.

"Only if we can hedge-hop on the way home?"

Hedge-hopping was a long time tradition that usually only happened when we were intoxicated, even more uncoordinated, and had a limited moral compass. Hedge-hopping was just as it sounded; running as fast as you can at a hedge and launching yourself over the top. It's much more idiotic than it sounds.

"Obviously." He said, giving me a doubtful look for even asking.

We left without saying goodbye because we figure nobody would remember or really care. I was only invited to these things through Magus because I had a tendency to be useless at getting along with a majority of my peers.

The walk home was the usual affair, mostly. As per usual, Magus and I competed for most hedges hopped, toppled over a couple of times and shushed each other a fair bit. Unusually, however, I couldn't help think of Seth and if he was really going to call.