lookin' in all the wrong places:

Ouch. My itsy bitsy fear has materialised. That all-American-skater/frat-six-foot-two-curly-haired boy, owner of a killer smile, my partner / eye candy in French class and recent object of obsession cause for unproductive use of time is, in fact, a FRESHMEN. (or freshman, if you want to be grammatically correct)
Which makes me a bloody paedophile *_*;;
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The cook at the dorm cafeteria is disturbingly flirty. When I'm hungry, I just want to be fed. Sweet nothings don't do nothing for me at dinner time.