~Nobody gave me a rulebook to follow,

And my soul's not hollow,

You see, we gotta find our place,

And we'll go there now~

The alarm clock went off, but Zayn had been awake for several minutes. The beeps didn't wake him up - he just sat there and watched the flashing light on the $4 alarm clock from Target just flash on and off. On and off.

He's late.

That's the fourth alarm clock. The one that isn't supposed to go off, under any circumstances. And if it does, Zayn's roommate, Edwin Ochoa, is supposed to turn it off. But he didn't have class until ten and was not waking up until then. Zayn had class at 8. And it was 8:15.

The return to college for sophomore year was not doing Zayn very well. It was already October, and waking up for his 8 a.m. Tuesday class was the hardest part of anything. The rest of the day was usually splendid, but he just had to get up. The leaves outside were pretty and very fall-like, but that did not help the raging storm of anger Zayn felt at having to physically leave his bed, which he finally did.

Moping around the room, he put on his clothes and picked up his school supplies and then trudged lazily towards the door. By the time he entered the lecture hall, it was 8:30, he had a muffin in his hand, and his face was wet. There was a fountain on the walk there, and what else was going to wake him up than a cold splash of water on his face? As he passed the minority of people out and about, no one gave him a second glance or thought. This was college. And no one cared anymore about what you looked like or what you did. High school was so two years ago. For Zayn, at least. For other people it had been longer. Or even closer back than that.

A pointed look from the professor as Zayn entered sent him straight to an empty seat in the first row, where he pulled out his laptop and began typing away on a document as soon as he processed that he should indeed be taking notes. The class was empty, as early morning classes always were. There was a real hollowness, a real feel to a room full of people who had not had a sip of coffee. MIT ran on coffee - late nights to early mornings. It was lucky there were two Starbucks on campus. And they were open 24/7. Perks of being an elite college.

Zayn's mind wandered as he tried to focus. He was a good student, really. But he couldn't help it if he wanted to sleep in. And genuinely did not want to be in that class. It was a graduation requirement. Not an elective or a choice. His notes are marked with question marks and highlighted words or phrases, and he daydreams of the afternoon, which he is the most excited for.

As Zayn walks out of the door, muffin wrapper in hand, he nonverbally communicates to the professor with prayer hands and eager eyes that it will never happen again!

"Oh come on! Of course it will!" He yells as he runs out the door. He internally scolds himself and promises that he will be there at least one minute before class on Thursday. That's the least he could promise himself.

It was now ten, and Zayn needed to go to the gym. That always woke him up. And he needed to be sweaty when he got to his two o'clock class. He'd settle for flushed, because when the blood was rushing to his face, he always looked hotter. Walking back to his dorm, he scanned the faces of everyone heading to their normal-timed classes. The baby-faces stand out to him - the geniuses being here when at their age, Zayn hadn't hit puberty. There were also people with gray hair in the crowd - older than he hoped he ever make it to be. And they weren't even professors or staff members.

Zayn thought about what people would think about him if they saw his face in the crowd. He had been letting his hair grow a little bit longer since the end of the last school year. Eyes red, shirt full of holes, satchel overflowing with books. Physically, he had bulked up when he started going to the gym to lose the weight that the stress of the ninety lifetimes that freshman year at this prestigious university had given him.

Entering his room for his bag, Edwin was off at class. And looking in the mini fridge for a snack, Zayn found nothing. Absolutely nothing. The Coke that had been in there just two hours earlier was gone. And that was Zayn's Coke. He bought the six-pack with his own money. And now his entitled brat of a science major roommate had taken it.

Zayn went ballistic, ripping the blankets off of his bed and screaming into his pillow. He was not happy about his roommate situation. His freshman roommate - Adam Clarke - and Zayn were great friends. To this day, they still are. But Adam made the last minute decision not to move back into student housing. And Zayn had already submitted all of the financial aid information for housing. So he was stuck in the dorms, while his best friend was having the time of his life off campus. Zayn and Edwin were uneasy around each other, downright rude sometimes. They didn't click or understand each other. And there was no telling if that was going to change.

After his freakout was over, Zayn grabbed his phone to text Adam, since he was already thinking about roommates, and that was who Adam had used to be to him. Now they were just best buddies.

Z: wanna get lunch in an hour?

A: of course

A: you going to the gym?

Z: yep

A: subway?

Z: always