Fallon Byrne didn't fit in.
As always, she sat alone looking in on the college campus, watching everyone else talking, reading and generally mixing with their friends.
She wasn't the smartest girl at school but she wasn't the dumbest.
She wasn't the sexiest or the ugliest.
She didn't follow the latest fashions but at the same time she dressed reasonably well.
It was just the fact she didn't get on well with people.
She had had a few boyfriends but none of them had lasted for very long and, at nineteen, she was still a virgin.
Sighing she looked around her envying those girls who had found someone and pitying those who, like herself, had no one special.
That was when she saw him.
Jackson Miller had only started at the college at the start of the new term, his parents having moved here when his father had found a new job at one of the companies in town.
Like almost every girl at the school she thought he was the cutest thing on two legs; 6' 1", brown hair down to his collar, deep brown eyes and a physique honed by all the sports he played. She knew he didn't have a girlfriend, in fact he hadn't dated anyone since he had been here, but she also knew he wouldn't look twice at her.
At 5' 3" Fallon would describe herself as petite with a slim 34B-23-34 figure, and breasts that were just two fried eggs on a plate. She didn't consider herself particularly pretty, with hazel eyes hidden behind large glasses and dark brown hair that hung past her shoulders although, like today, she usually wore it in a pony tail.
Watching him walk away she sighed resignedly, why would someone like him look at an insignificant, invisible girl like her.
She had just gone back to the book she was reading.
"Hey Fallon." Chrissie Harper, the school's number one bitch, and her personal nemesis of the last ten years, stood in front of her, "You going to the dance this weekend?"
