Excerpts, from a Galaxy Wide

St, Paul's College

Ordinary

The first word that crossed my mind when I arrived at St. Paul's College and saw the outdated buildings built in the 1950s and the dilapidated sports auditorium, was "Ordinary".

You see, St. Paul's College was not my first choice of university.

Nor my second.

Or third.

Quite honestly, St. Paul's lacked the culture I was searching for. Although the academic programme was excellent, surprisingly so for such a young establishment, St. Paul's was very much known as a "party school".

My first choice would've been Harvard, probably Oxford after that. I was lucky enough that Cambridge considered my application, but all schools had the same issue, I was sure they all used the same letter when I was rejected.

Dear Miss Blake

Upon reflection of your application we wish to inform you that your bid to study at *Insert asshole university name here* has been denied.

While we find your academic record impressive, the lack of social involvement in societies and clubs in your school record has been identified contrary to *Insert asshole university name here*'s belief system and revealed some incompatibilities.

We wish you well in the future.

All was well, and although my top ten schools all rejected, number eleven was quite ready to accept me.

St. Paul's had no culture, and it never claimed to have any, but it was something I was craving in my university life – I wanted to tour streets that had history, see buildings that were restored numerous times that show the legacy of the school itself.

But no, I was stuck at a school built in the 50s and still seemed to be stuck there.

As a result, all the buildings had large windows, some in weird almost psychedelic like shapes. Most buildings had the faculty names shown in bold black letters rimmed in white atop the doors, strange arches (that might've looked futuristic 70 years ago) stood in front many buildings where a fountain would be more suitable, and the excessive use of shiny chrome detailing made the campus almost too much to bear.

Luckily the 1950's décor brought along some cheap Diners, and you couldn't turn into a street in St. Paul's without seeing one in the distance or even standing in front of one.

St. Paul's was okay, it was no Harvard or Oxford, but it was still in one of the top schools in the country. The only thing that scared me was the "party school" aspect.

I am not one for social situations, much less party situations and while St. Paul's was a top-notch school academically, the Greek street was known for equally bright and hungover students. Even worse the Greek street controlled St, Paul's activity calendar and all events are compulsory for freshmen.

My first compulsory event was tonight, the first night of University life. The night that I wanted to spend unpacking my clothes while watching my favourite reality TV show, "Attitude for Days", instead I'll be attending the Annual St. Paul's bonfire at some frat house on Greek street.

Not only was I not mentally prepared for the bonfire, I had no idea what to wear, who to talk to and what to say and quite frankly the idea of entering a frat house gave me the sensation of an elephant standing on my chest.

But that was later and hopefully I could take my mind off it by starting the moving process into my new shared room in the Women's Dormitory at St. Paul's.

The girl standing in the middle of my room, pink headphones listening to some song I didn't recognise probably because I could barely hear it, didn't notice me walking in. When I turned my back to place the load of boxes onto my bed, I heard an exclamation.

"Shit!" and something crashed to the floor.

I turned around to help her and came face to face with the prettiest girl I have ever seen.

"I'm sorry if I scared you"

I didn't think she could hear me; her headphones were still playing music while she picked up a box of shoes and I barely whispered it anyway.

She took the pink headphones and hung them around her neck while she greeted me. The headphones made her brown hair pool around her head like a make-shift bob.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you come in. I'm Robin, you must be Janice – not to be rude but I was expected some old bat that in her thirties with a name like that"

"I go by Jay, nice to meet you."

I turned around again after putting a pair of Converse back into her box and began unpacking my bedding and toiletries – I always thought it was more important to place your essentials before anything else to make sure you're ready for the next day that meant making my bed and putting my shower caddy into the ensuite.

"So, what are you studying? You look like an English Literature Major, very quiet, neat, a lot of books, you know."

I paused, I was not expecting a chatty roommate. I did not pair well with chatty. I turned around and Robin's green eyes starred at me in interest.

"You don't talk much do you?"

"No, not really. I'm a finance major, how about you?"

"I'm majoring in Graphic Design and Art. Really? A finance major. I would not have you pegged for the computer chained world. What exactly are you focusing on? Actuarial Science, Finance Analyst, ooh a Stock broker?"

When she mentioned art, I noticed the pile of posters laying on her bed waiting to be hung up – there was a mixture of cartoon characters and avatars from fantasy games that I recognised from my younger brothers Xbox collection.

She had so many questions, I couldn't keep up. I know I would be living with this girl for the next year but this sudden investigation into my life made me feel dizzy and overwhelmed.

"Uh, I'm focusing on Accounting, if you don't mind, I'm going to use the bathroom."

The words flowed so quickly and muffled out of my mouth, I doubted Robin heard anything after "Accounting", but I practically jumped across the room into the ensuite and closed the door abruptly.

I just needed a quick breather, I splashed my face with water and looked in to the vanity mirror.

This was going to be a challenging year.