Morning arrived faster than I thought possible.

Sunlight streaming through the window in the kitchen, phone buzzing with the reminder I'd set to wake me up.

First day of college.

You can do this, Ben.

Across the room, I noticed that Michael's icy blue eyes were open. He was staring motionlessly at the ceiling. It was almost creepy, how still he lay. Was he contemplating the meaning of life over there? Planning a mass shooting? One could never be too sure.

"Uh... mornin'," I said finally as I headed to the bathroom, because I felt like I had to say something.

"Morning," he repeated dully.

"You, uh, plan on leaving bed today?" I joked, then cringed. Humor wasn't my strong suit.

"No."

I frowned. "Really? But... it's the first day of classes."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Why bother going to classes that I'm gonna fail anyway?"

"Um, maybe so you don't get kicked out and waste all your money?" I said. Why was I even arguing with this guy? If he wanted to flunk out in a month, that wasn't my problem. In fact, it might just make my life a little easier.

"I have the money," he said in the same emotionless tone.

Now I was getting annoyed. "Why are you even in college then?"

"Used to go to another college, got kicked out," he said without an ounce of shame.

"Why?"

He smiled. "My old roommate? See, he was very annoying. One day he annoyed me just a little too much and I killed him."

"Ha ha ha," I muttered.

"Kidding. My parents forced me. They were gonna cut me off unless I went. Why are you in college?"

"I wanted to get away from home," I said honestly.

"I can't wait to go back," he muttered, then rolled over.

"Whatever," I said, and walked into the bathroom. I shut the door firmly behind me, just in case he decided to cross any more personal boundaries today.

The shower was freezing, making me wince under the water the whole time. I brushed my teeth while standing over the toilet and tried my best to fix my messy bedhead. With a dry razor, I swiped off my shadow of peach fuzz and wrapped one of Michael's towels around my waist.

Michael was still laying in the same position when I poked my head out the door. He tilted his head upon noticing me and I felt his eyes follow me all the way back to my bed. Weird.

I killed a few minutes by picking out my clothes for the day. An old white t-shirt and some blue skinny jeans. Then, when it was time for me to drop my towel, I took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"So, um..." I mumbled. "Are you-" He was staring directly at me. "Are you gonna watch or...?"

He sniffed and rubbed his nose. "Do you want me to leave the room for you?"

"No, I'll, um... I'll go back in the..." I trailed off, seeing no point to my rambling, and gathered up my clothes. Fuck, I thought. Why are you like this? You probably could have just gotten dressed in front of him, I mean, didn't guy roommates do that all the time?

On my way back into the bathroom, I banged my knee on the counter. A sharp yelp escaped me. I could hear Micahel chuckle outside. I bit down on my jaw and imagined him being eaten alive by a pack of wolves. Finally, I was able to get my clothes on and strolled back into the main room.

Act casual, I told myself. Be smooth.

I frowned a little and rubbed my lips together. "So... I'm guessing you don't like me much, Michael."

He let out a yawn and stretched his arms up to frame his curly blonde head. "When'd I say that? You really gotta loosen up, freshie."

"Stop calling me freshie," I gritted.

"Well, you act like every other annoying little freshman prick. They get tiring after a while."

I couldn't just stand there and be insulted, could I? "And you're just a fucking asshole," I blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows. "Scratch that," he said, lifting his index finger. "A feisty little annoying prick."

I narrowed my eyes into slits of boiling rage. Never had I been described as feisty, but it kind of sounded like how you'd talk about a wild horse you wanted to tame. "Why do you have to be so rude anyway? And condescending?" I snapped.

He looked up, his eyes dark. "Condescending? Oh, my apologies, your highness, shall I bow before you every time you enter the room?"

"Look, it's just we have to live together so we might as well learn to get along. And if every single second you're just going to be so mean-"

He laughed. "Alright, fine. I'm mean. Did you want a hug or something?"

I scowled even harder. "No. No, I do not want a hug. Good... goodbye."

Sarah said I should get out of my room more; that was for sure going to happen if only to avoid this guy. I gathered up my stuff and left, slamming the door behind me.

My first class was world history, and due to my directionally challenged nature, it took me a while to get there. At first I wasn't even sure I had the right building.

Finally, I found the room and because I was the last idiot to clumsily stumble through the door, I took the only open seat. It was by the aisle in the back row, next to a brunette in a clingy white tank top.

"Hey there, cutie," the girl said, pushing her glasses a little farther down her nose.

I glanced at her, noticing this time her boobs practically spilling out of the shirt. "Hey yourself," I said, my voice suddenly a little higher.

Shit. This girl was gorgeous. And she looked short, too. Maybe 5'1. Perfect for someone like me, who had only grown to a lousy 5'7 all my life.

She flicked her eyes disgustedly toward the front of the room, where the professor was passing out papers to the front row. He was a middle-aged man with a huge bald spot on his head and probably a hundred pounds too many on his stomach.

"Goddamn, this class is boring," the girl remarked as the papers made their way through the rows to us. She chewed on her pen. "Little more interesting now, though."

"Oh?" I squeaked. "Why's that?"

"Well, you're here." She winked at me and took her paper from the girl in front of her. I took mine and looked down at it. It was just the syllabus. "Look," she said. "You're hot. I'm pretty hot too, don't you think?"

I wasn't used to people being so straightforward. I looked at her boobs. "I do."

She gave me a small knowing smile and turned away. "Well, that's good," she said with just the tiniest hint of sarcasm. Okay, fuck, I'm not doing very well, I thought. I watched her write her name on the paper with one of those pink furry pens in delicate cursive.

"Hey, Rhoda, what's up?" I said, in reference to her name.

"Not a lot," she replied, but she scooted her chair closer to mine. "Anything up with you?" she asked.

"No. Um. Maybe." I wrote my name across the page.

"So... Ben," she said, copying my name-learning strategy, "Are you... seeing anyone?"

"Oh, nah," I answered. "I just got here yesterday. I'm from Ohio."

"Well," Rhoda said. "It's kind of scary coming to a whole new town not knowing a ton of people. We should hang out sometime." She tore the corner of her paper off and scribbled down a number, presumably hers, unless her whole flirting act was for absolutely nothing.

She passed it across the desk to me and I slid it into my pocket. "So, Rhoda." I repeated her question. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Let's just say I see a lot of people," she murmured.

The girl who handed Rhoda the paper before turned around. "Yo, can you two do this shit later? I'm trying to pay attention."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I distract you?" Rhoda snapped as she turned back around. "I fucking hate nerds," she whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes. "I know, right? Ugh."

"Anyway, I guess we better take some notes. Don't want to like, look dumb or anything." She stared ahead at the professor. I watched his stomach, bulging from his too-tight shirt, jiggle around as he moved back and forth across the room.

"Does anyone know what year Europeans first arrived in North America?" the professor asked.

Someone shouted, "1492!"

I had already begun writing the year down on the edge of my paper when I saw him shaking his head, and I scribbled it out angrily. Rhoda twitched her pen and smirked.

"No, Columbus was not the first to discover America," the fat man replied irritably. "Anyone else?"

"Wasn't it like sixteen oh-something?" a guy in the front row asked. Again, he shook his head.

The girl in front of us, who we were not exactly on the best terms with as of current, raised her hand high. Rhoda shot me an annoyed look. The professor pointed at her encouragingly. "It was the Vikings, in around 1000 AD," she said.

"You are correct," he said with a bright smile. "So there is hope in the room." He continued on with the next useless point on his list.

"Bro, ten bucks says she fucks that dude," Rhoda commented.

The girl turned around. "You have a problem, bitch?"

"Do you?" Rhoda shot back.

I looked at the big analog clock across the room, welcoming back the familiar practice of willing the minutes of class away.

Funny, I thought I'd gotten out of high school, but not a whole lot had seemed to change.