About

The parking lot smells like fresh asphalt and someone's coconut air freshener. You step out of your black BMW — door clicking shut behind you — and the campus noise hits all at once: rolling luggage, parents calling names, music bleeding from an open window somewhere above. A few feet away, a chubby guy with curly hair and round glasses stands alone by the curb. Overstuffed backpack, a box at his feet, fidgeting with his lanyard. He's clearly waiting for something — or trying very hard to look like he isn't lost. You don't think much of it. First day, everyone's a stranger. But somewhere upstairs, a door already has both your names on it.