2

That first night in my new dorm room, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of music coming from Jake’s side of the room. It was strange—being away from home, away from everything I knew. But at the same time, there was this undeniable thrill in my chest. This was it. Stanford. A fresh start.

Jake seemed cool, surprisingly down-to-earth for a football player. Maybe, just maybe, college really would be different.

I woke up early, partly out of habit and partly because my brain wouldn’t shut up about all the things I had to do. Orientation, finding my classes, figuring out where the best coffee on campus was—essential survival tasks.

Jake was still asleep, snoring lightly. No surprise there. I got up, grabbed my things, and decided to take a quick walk around campus before things got too crowded.

Stanford was beautiful in the morning light. The air was crisp, the palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, and students were already moving around. Some looked as lost as I felt, while others walked with the kind of confidence that screamed *second-year at least*.

I found a coffee shop near the quad and ordered a black coffee. As I waited, I overheard a conversation at the next table.

“I’m telling you, the CS department here is brutal. You better be prepared.”

“Yeah, I heard the first-year workload is insane.”

Great. Just what I needed—more anxiety.

I grabbed my coffee and sat outside, sipping slowly as I let the caffeine do its magic.

By the time I returned, Jake was awake, stretching his arms with a yawn. “Damn, you’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep much,” I admitted. “Figured I’d explore a little.”

Jake chuckled. “Nervous about classes already?”

“You’re not?”

He shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but mostly about football. I already know my classes are gonna suck.”

“Good to see you have your priorities straight.”

He smirked. “Damn right.”

As we got ready for the day, we fell into an easy rhythm. It was weird—I’d spent most of my life avoiding football players, but here I was, rooming with one, and it wasn’t awful.

The rest of the day was a blur of campus tours, endless speeches, and awkward introductions. I met a few people from my major—mostly other guys who looked just as sleep-deprived as I felt.

Jake, on the other hand, seemed to thrive in this environment. He high-fived people, made friends instantly, and somehow ended up in a heated debate about the best pizza places in California within an hour.

By the time we got back to the dorm that evening, I was exhausted. Jake, however, looked like he could keep going for hours.

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, dropping onto his bed.

I thought about it for a moment. “Not bad. Overwhelming, but not bad.”

He grinned. “Good. College is supposed to be overwhelming.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was going to be okay.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, I’d found a place where I actually fit.

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