Being the number on guy in college isn't always easy and fun. You have to keep your popular reputation to a high level, one mistake and it is all over. My reputation is at that high level mark, and I plan to keep it that way. I have to attend every party that goes on at the frat houses, if there are two parties at two different places, then I have to go to the one that my friends are at. Okay, let me tell how everything began.

I was the smartest guy in high school. I had every single assignment done, and notes from classes were all over my bed and floor from studying. Every single class was easy for me, so I passed them all with flying colors. Okay, I was the third smartest person in high school, I got a little over board with describing my intelligence. Although I was smart, I was also the most popular, I was friends with everyone, besides the lower class students, labeled as 'nerds'. Which is sort of ironic seems how I was a nerd, I think. 

When it was the middle of ninth grade, I became interested in NYU. I began doing research on the college, such as, fees, dorms and rooms, and of course, classes. The college fees were expensive, but I thought I could get in. I worked even harder and better in school to keep good grades in my classes.

Once eleventh grade had ended, I had figured out what I wanted to do after I was done with school for my life. I wanted to be an author. During the summer, I filled out an enrollment application, and everything else that you do to get into a college. I sent in everything to the college right when my twelfth grade year started.

Months went by, an I became more and more nervous as each day went by. I was beginning to think that I wasn't accepted, so I just gave it up. A month before my high school graduation, I received a letter from NYU. I was accepted. My parents were so happy for me, they paid for a room in a frat house. I had heard things, perhaps rumors, about frat houses at colleges; so I was against the whole idea of getting a room at a frat house. My father reassured me that having a frat house was fun and interesting, he would know because he was in NYU; I believed him. I packed my bags the day after graduation.

The ride to the college was silent and lonely mostly. I would have let my parents bring me to the college, but I don't want them hugging me and kissing me on the forehead, and telling me they love me. I'm not that kind of guy who has parents who crying over me going to college. So, instead of taking the bus, I drove my care by myself.