College Rules - Lucky Fucking Freshman [TOP]

But nobody warned me about him . His name is Cole. Junior. Rugby player. Has that effortless messy hair that looks like he just rolled out of someone else’s bed. He was my RA’s friend—which should have been my first red flag. RAs are supposed to be the fun police, not the pimps of the third floor.

And then he texted: “Had fun. Let’s keep this low-key though? You know how it is.” College Rules - Lucky Fucking Freshman

“No.” He kissed my shoulder. “Just makes me feel special.” But nobody warned me about him

“Special” in a guy’s vocabulary often means “convenient.” The Reality The next morning, he made me coffee in a mug that said “World’s Okayest Brother.” Walked me to the bus stop. Kissed me goodbye like we’d done it a thousand times. Rugby player

And Cole stopped being fun the second I started being convenient. Have your own “lucky freshman” story? Drop it in the comments (anonymously, obviously). And subscribe for more college confessions from someone who survived to tell the tale.