6. First Day

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"Fuck, do you know where the Wilson building is? I have class in there at 10," Harry called to Niall as he threw on a shirt. Harry had woken up at 9:30am and he was just getting ready now, which meant he was probably going to be late.

"Yeah, mate, that's like across campus. 15 minutes at least. You have to go past the main green and then turn on 13th Street," Niall yelled from the shower.

"Thanks, mate," Harry replied enthusiastically, though his stomach was flip flopping over the first day of classes. He knew that they would probably be playing 'get to know you games' or 'icebreakers' or whatever the Americans call those stupid introductory activities. Harry wasn't one to socialize unless he had to, and he wasn't in the mood to share 'fun facts' about his life in England or have students ogle at him because of his accent.

Tugging on a pair of black jeans and grey vans, Harry shoved a notebook and some pens into his backpack and grabbed a granola bar. There was no time for breakfast today -- or a shower. Running a finger through his hair, which was almost reaching his shoulders these days, he sighed and started to head out the door.

"Bye, Niall!" he called behind him.

"Bye, mate. Good luck," Niall replied.

Once outside the dorm, Harry headed down the dismal grey hallway -- the same one he had walked down with Camille -- and out the exit. Harry cringed a bit as he thought about Camille. She had texted him a few times yesterday, but he didn't answer her. He would eventually, but he was still so spooked over the whole vomiting incident, that he sort of wanted to lay low for a while.

Camille was the wild child type, and something told Harry that the more time he spent with her, the more he would experience nights like the one at Zete, with colorful pills and too much alcohol. Not to mention, all the glittery bodies.

Fuck. Glittery bodies.

Stepping outside, Harry blinked in the sunlight and tried to get the image of Louis' table dancing out of his head. Today was a big day and he didn't have time for distractions like that. No, he needed to focus on maths and making friends and joining clubs. Maybe even getting an internship. You know, normal uni student concerns. He certainly didn't need to worry about Louis, some boy from a random party who he would probably never see again.

Harry turned right and headed down the sidewalk that led to the main green, staring at the mass of students now surrounding him, rushing hurriedly to class with their books and backpacks in tow.

Sometimes Harry wished he didn't have to go to uni. There were so many people and so little personal space, and Harry really enjoyed his privacy, preferring a quiet cafe or time alone in his room to a bustling student center any day.

He was on the green now, where large, modern looking buildings towered over the green space in the middle of the campus. Most of those were liberal arts buildings, like the languages building, a black eight-story building on the left, and the literature building, a silver four story on the right. Crowded behind the two was the theatre building, a small one story building that seemed more like a co-op than anything else.

Harry glanced at his phone to check the time. It was was 9:50am now, fuck. No time to look at buildings! Harry picked up his pace, quickly shoving his phone back into his pocket.

He had noticed a text from Camille which read "Do you have class today?" as he was putting it away. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course he had class today. What kind of question was that?

Ten minutes later, Harry found his way up the hill and down 13th street, where he located the shiny green building that said "University of Chicago: Mathematics Department" on the front. He jogged inside, pulling up his schedule on his phone to double check the room number - 212- and hiked up the stairs to the second floor in search of his classroom.

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