I'm so late to Mr. Anderson's class. 

For some information my flight was delayed and I had to move in to my dorm at midnight. My roommate Marcus was already awake when I arrived and was really nice, but fell asleep soon after we Introduced our selves. 

I thought 'Oh it's all good, my classes don't start until 2pm, we good.' 

We were not good. 

I was done packing at 4am and jet lag was setting in and the adrenaline had wore off, so I crashed. Unfortunately for me my alarm was set about 30 minutes before I had to be at class.

 And I may have had slept through my alarm.

 And I may have had only got up because Marcus slapped me to wake up and then happily informed me that if slapping me had not worked, he would have dumped water on me.

Yippie.

I rushed to get ready, brushing my teeth, coffee, you know the drill. Then I spend the next 30 MINUTES trying to find my advanced algebra class, even though Marcus told where it was because we were in the SAME class.

 HALLELUIAH, I FOUND IT MUHAHAHAHA, I AM HALF DEAD HALF ASLEEP, I AM GOD!

I think I may be mentally unstable. My therapist may be right... Nahhhhhhh.

I walk through the door, exceedingly proud of myself,

"Hello Mr. Griffin, my name is Mr. Anderson, and you are late for my class," My slightly annoyed professor greeted me.  

How did he know me on sight?! I know that I look like a dumpster fire dipped into grease then put out, then lit on fire again, and he still recognized me.

This man must not be human. I scan the room looking for a seat. I want to be close to the back so I could hopefully stay out of Mr. Anderson's point of view. 

Marcus, the traditor, is asleep in the back of the room, I make an ugly face I would flip him off  if it wouldn't make me look immature, which is close to impossible because I am the living embodiment of being immature. 

Mr. Anderson has picked up talking again, and there is this girl who keeps putting her hand up and waving it, it looks like she is going to shit her pants if he doesn't call on her, which is weird because he isn't asking any questions. The person next to her is face palming in embarrassment, I feel them, I would sit next to them and compliment their hijab, it's green, the best color. But alas no open seat.

There's a couple of people who are sharing a bag of chips and taking notes, I would sit there because they have cool vibes, but unfortunately there isn't an open seat and I don't want to impose.

Oh! I see a seat! ...Wait. I see it. A very nice looking girl is looking at this awesome looking goth girl. I move to look for another seat.

Oh! another seat! Right next to another sleeping guy. It's all good I'll just ask if I can sit there and he'll say yes, and bam! Best friends. I am a genius.

I walk over, "Hi! My name-"

"What the hell do you want," this very grumpy man askes.

Ok, I get it, I just interrupted his sleep.

"Oh, can I sit here," I point to the open chair.

"Oh, yeah, fuck, I'm really sorry I just was tired." He responded.

"No problem!" I CAN FINALLY SIT MY ASS IS SO HAPPY.

"So... What's your name? Mines Kenneth, but you can call me ken. No Barbie jokes," Ken asked.

"Ok, my name is Lyle, no instrument jokes," I laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"Lyre? You cannot tell me you do not know what that is," I ask him.

"I do, I do" he laughed.

"O.K you guys can move to your next class," Mr. Anderson announces. I was either really late, or I talked too much. I'm betting on being late.

"Hey", I turn to Ken ,"What are you studding?" 

"I want to be a lawyer," He answers as we gather our stuff ,"You?"

"I want to be a Artist," I reply. 

"Don't you think it's fucked  that we are all going to have student debt, and most of us won't be able to pay it off until we are all old and saggy, and the system has milked all the money they can out of us?" Ken askes me as someone holds the door open for the mob of people. 

I say thank you to the guy opening the door.

"Meh, I dunno, It's America," I answer.

 We part ways and continue with our day, for the next couple of days we sat together and talked.

 I think I finally have a friend.