When a boy cries wolf, he gets ignored.

Two days, party party party.

And there will be cute boys in nice shirts and indie music and food and roommates and new clothes and classes and professors and books and late nights and bus rides home and papers to write and places to be and new sounds and new chances to take pictures and more ghosts and tattoos and backseats and empty cans and movies and calculators and bets and running around and short skirts and long ones too and coats and warm pockets and doing whatever else I deem important.

But there won't be a Courtney or a Nicole or cats or wooden floors or lots of space or quiet or certain other people or aunts or moms or dads or grandmothers.

But there will be cell phone calls and frequent trips home on weekends.