Confessions of a 'That Girl'

Written by adio kalinihta

Summary: Annie Durham is inexpressibly, irreverently, and irreparably a 'that girl'.

Rated R for substance abuse, language, sexual situations/innuendoes.

AN: yes, this is the MASSIVE and nearly unrecognizable rewrite of "Your Daily Catastrophes" (it hasn't changed a whole lot yet but I can promise you it will). I know, I know, I disappeared forever and this version is way different, almost enough to be another story entirely, but it bears enough resemblance to be considered a resurrection. I hope you find this one better (I do even if you guys don't). I started the original when I just started college and I'm in my third year now, so obviously I understand college a lot better and know my characters and my storyline better as well (what do you know, this version might have actual plot direction!). Plus, if you remember, a lot of this is autobiographical so I've had plenty of new adventures to incorporate. To warn you guys, take the rating seriously. I do have a potty mouth, and though there isn't going to really be smut I definitely enjoy innuendoes and dirty jokes. As well, there will be substance abuse – no hard drugs or anything but it is college so there'll most likely be drinking and pot. The chapters will be longer, and I won't be able to respond individually to reviews (sorry!). But still, as always, please review!

Chapter 1

I tugged a hand through my hair exasperatedly while holding my lunch tray and maneuvering through the packed cafeteria. This was quite a feat, even for me, who prided myself on being an expert on sidling through crowds.

This is officially my second day at college.

Well, not "college" in the technical sense. I mean, I'm at college, and this is my second day, but classes haven't started yet.

And college has not been all it's cracked up to be. I mean, I had envisioned crazy parties, getting trashed with my multitude of cool friends, and meeting hot boy after hot boy who were all unbelievably and inconceivably attracted to me (I'm not conceited, I swear! Let me have one fantasy!)

And yeah, sure, a lot of that is going on. I'm just not involved in any aforementioned activities. You have to actually meet new people to be involved in any of those activities, and that's a lot harder than it seems. I've begun to worry that I'll be one of those weird kids who hates college and lives on her own and has no friends.

Meeting people is so hard! Hell, in high school I was that extreme extrovert that everybody knew and loved. This is just so awkward, starting over from scratch.

Though technically, I haven't started from scratch. There's my best friend and now roommate Blythe, and let me tell you we have clung to each other like we're suffering from separation anxiety.

I eagerly snatched up the last plate of sausage and pasta on the rack, throwing a triumphant look over my shoulder to the unfortunate souls still in line. Now they'll have to wait another ten minutes for more to be made, while I can finally go eat. Hah!

Okay, I might be enjoying their misery a little too much.

I stepped over to the silverware rack to grab a questionably clean fork and knife.

But just at that moment, someone else reached for it. Ordinarily, I'd just continue on my way, unless this fellow student in need of silverware just so happened to be James Franco!

Okay, so he's not actually James Franco, but he looks damn close and that's more than enough for me to stand here slack-jawed and motionless. Messy dark hair and eyes, straight nose, prominent cheekbones and strong jaw with a 5 o'clock shadow…

I grinned at him stupidly. He sent me a questioning look before taking his silverware and heading on his way.

I sighed deeply. Wow. We totally just connected. We'd probably been lovers in an earlier life or something.

Or… ohmygod! What if I was a Russian princess in an earlier lifetime and he was my lover I could never be with. Yeah … he was like my servant – no, stable boy! And our love was forbidden, we had to meet late at night in the stables until he was caught by the guards and exiled from the kingdom...

Oh my God, that's so sad…

Finally I blinked away the daydream and grabbed the silverware. I crossed the dining hall and sat across from my aforementioned best-friend-since-kindergarten Blythe and my newest hall acquaintance, June.

"Wow," I breathed, smiling goofily.

"What now?" Blythe asked in a bored tone, her eyes focused on the orange she was currently demolishing with a butter knife.

"I just completely had a moment with James Franco over the silverware rack."

"You don't believe you actually just saw James Franco?" June cut in, who happened to be a brunette in reality but the cosmos had certainly meant to make her a blonde.

"She just saw some guy that has dark hair," Blythe corrected June.

"Wasn't he that guy from Spiderman? I didn't think he was that attractive," June said, but realized her mistake when she glanced back at me.

"What?!" I demanded incredulously. "Haven't you seen Freaks and Geeks? Or Tristan and Isolde? Or Annapolis? Or Flyboys? Or-"
"Okay, we get it, you're a big fan of James Franco," Blythe interrupted, eyes narrowed at the unfortunate orange.

"So what happened?" June asked. "Did you talk to him?"

"Nooo…" I said slowly.

"Even more thrilling. Soundly like you really hit it off," Blythe remarked dryly.

Eh …. Bitch. Can't summon enough enthusiasm over me meeting James Franco because she's jealous I met him first. Well, that's just too bad. I knew him in my earlier life, and she'd better back off. He's definitely mine.

"If I could see a devastatingly good looking boy like that every day, I'd be one happy girl," I added, throwing in a lovesick moan to irritate her.

It worked.

"If you could stop ranting about hot boys you don't even know, I'd be one happy girl," Blythe muttered.

"We both reached for the silverware at the same moment, and our eyes met. It was like the world passed between us with that one glance … like we'd known each other forever. I suddenly knew everything I ever needed to know about him, and he understood me as well. Then he walked to the salad bar, and out of my life," I said, sniffing dramatically and June stifled a giggle. My voice lowered, "I think he was afraid of commitment."

"I think he was just afraid."

I glared at her.

"You're just madly jealous because I met James Franco and you didn't, because you were too busy playing with your stupid orange," I grunted, crossing my arms.

"Are you going to eat that?" she asked, pointing to my leftover pasta.

"I can't. I'm suffering from a broken heart. I have a traitorous best friend and my newfound love is gone. June, do you want to be my new best-"

"Thanks," Blythe interrupted, dragging my tray to her side of the table.

"I was just kidding!" I responded frantically, yanking my tray back with enough force to send it flying off the table and into the floor.

"Christ, Annie!" Blythe rolled her eyes. "I just wanted a bite!"

Can you blame me? I waited like ten minutes for that pasta, and it was nearly tolerable too!

Okay, so maybe I'm being a selfish pig and a terrible friend, but it is my food. I don't want to share!

Though now I'm kind of wishing I had shared, because now I have to clean it up, then stand in line to get more. Damn.

Blythe watched me with amusement as I quickly scraped sausage off the floor with a napkin.

Bitch! It was mostly her fault that I spilled it! No, it was all her fault! If she hadn't stolen my...

Aww, now she's helping me clean them up. What a great friend! A true friend will get on their hands and knees in the middle of the cafeteria floor to help clean up mashed potatoes you spilled. Even after you called her a bitch.

"Sorry I called you a bitch," I apologized as we finished wiping the floor.

"You didn't."

"Oh..." I mumbled, thinking over the conversation. "Sorry for thinking you were a bitch."

"No problem. Just get me some pasta."

"Yes ma'am."

Dear, dear Blythe Malone. She's one of the most talented people I know. Brilliant in her studies, athletic, and pretty... she's one of those people that you love to hate. Even in high school, she was this detached loner with a sometimes overly harsh sense of humor. I guess it is kind of weird that we always stayed so close, especially when other people seem to have such a hard time with her. But then again, I can totally see her as the type of person who could like take over the world or go on an insane killing spree and never get caught. She's a brilliant cold genius like that. She's totally my favorite!

I returned to the line with a new tray, while not-so-discreetly looking for James Franco.

I swear, the only reason I didn't say something to him was because I was caught off guard by the hotness. This time I'd totally have something brilliantly witty to say, and he'd fall head over heels in love with me for my charming ways.

Shit, I am so delusional it isn't even funny. But what else can you do? Life sucks, and fantasy world is such a more entertaining place to live.

Damn, James Franco is nowhere in sight.

And the pasta window is closed! Oh God...oh God...oh God...

My day sucks! I hate reality!

After a thoroughly disappointing grilled cheese sandwich, June, Blythe, and I were on our hike to our dorm a mile away. No, I'm totally serious. It really is a mile away. And it's all stairs.

And we were currently walking up what seemed like the hundredth flight of stairs, when two terribly indiscreet boys sitting on the railing made a big mistake.

They were rating girls that walked by. None of the girls so far had noticed, but I happened to be super amazing and observant and noticed them whispering back and forth and rating with hand signals. Fascinated, I tried to not let on that I knew what they were doing.

"Redhead?" one muttered to the other as we walked by. By redhead they meant Blythe, though she wasn't a redhead. Her hair is clearly auburn. Stupid boys.

The other whistled softly under his breath before signaling back a nine. I nodded. If they had graded her poorly I would have shoved them down the stairs. Blythe is a knockout, after all. I have a total non-sexual crush on her. She's a slender 5'9 with dark wavy hair and light brown eyes. Not to mention the tan that I would kill for.

"Brunette?" the one who rated Blythe asked. My eyes flitted immediately to June. She was really more cute than pretty, and unfortunately for her she had to deal with being overshadowed by Blythe's drop-dead-hotness. Welcome to my life for the last twelve years.

"Six," the other responded. I frowned slightly, but let it pass. "Blonde?"

What? I am not blonde! This is dirty blond, thankyouverymuch.

The first, who had rated Blythe a nine, signaled a seven.

Jackass! It's probably because they think I'm fat or something.

And I'm not fat! I mean, I eat way too many cookies, and I am a little curvy, but I'm totally not fat! And I'm not a seven!

I glared at them.

Those bastards...

Next thing I know, my big mouth is open and spewing words that definitely hadn't even flitted across my mind yet.

"My ass alone is a ten!"

Oh. My. God. Could I pick anything more embarrassing to say?!

I did receive small satisfaction from slack-jawing them. For the most part, however, I was trying to hide my scarlet face as I stumbled for a getaway.

Key word: stumbled.

I tripped on the stairs and fell on my face. Embarrassing? No, not really. Humiliating? Getting close. Mortifying? Yeah, around there.

Not to mention the fact that my favorite skirt (it's adorable! It's summery and patterned green with beige trim) was now around my hips. Yes, the two jackasses could now stare at my big flabby ass and my Beauty and the Beast underwear.

I hate this stupid skirt! This is now the least lucky skirt of all time!

God dammit!

"You're right, that's definitely a ten!" the guy shouted.

My face is purple.