The university experience is a risky business in fiction. Generally, the feelings are intense, but the stakes are low; it's all very formative for the individual character, but it can feel a bit trivial to anyone else. In fact, reading an account of someone's university days is surely only one or two stages removed from having to hear about the dream they had last night.
Many lifelong alliances begin with a period of mild intimidation, and so it was with my friendship with Nichola. We were 18, in the first year at university, and shared a few French classes. I didn't know her name, had never heard her speak in English but, with her voluminous curls and friendly, curious stare, she stood out. I assumed she would be too cool to hang around with someone like me.
"I scoured every rental site and even researched 'logements contre services,' or work/accommodation exchanges, only to find offers from men claiming to have space in their bed for a student."