A/N: This is my newest project. I loved the books as a kid, and the movies are pretty good as well, although I was disappointed that the second one strayed so far from the book (but Ben Barnes is hot, so I let it slide :) ). I appreciate reviews. I have a rough outlline of where I am going with this, but I'll keep my fingers crossed for good luck.

REVIEW PLEASE!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my imagination and the laptop on which I create this story, loosely based on the work of C.S. Lewis. I am poor, so please don't sue me.

Peter Pevensie sat on the bed of his dormitory. The sun was just beginning to rise. He stood up and stretched, then turned and observed his roommate. He was sprawled unceremoniously on the bed across the room. He had kicked his blankets into a ball at his feet, allowing Peter full view of his boxer-clad form. Peter bit back a groan of disgust. The light shinning through the blinds created stripes of lights across the entire room, but his roommate didn't stir. Peter knew it would be hours before he would get up.

He took no pains to be quiet as he shuffled through his closet and drawers, pulling out clean clothes: a white dress shirt with a maroon sweater and black tie to go over it and jeans. He fumbled his way into the bathroom, pulled off his pajamas and stepped into the shower. The hot water caressed his face and relaxed his tight muscles. More importantly, it cleared his head. Peter was in that awkward stage between childhood and adulthood. The typical teenage angst was beginning to have more weight. Though Peter was a generally positive person, his first year in college had been rough.

In fact, it had all been rough for a few years now. He had smiled and been genuinely happy when Lucy and Edmund had recounted their adventures on the Dawn Treader, but it was hard to be cast out of that world. When Aslan had told him and Susan that they were too old to return it had crushed him. It was worse than finding out that Santa Clause wasn't real. Susan had shared his anguish for a while, but then had found a boy. She was now interested solely in rushing into adulthood. She had even began to forget about Narnia all together. If only he could find something to dull the pain.

Heaving a deep sigh, he turned off the faucet. A half hour later he emerged from the dormitory, shirt untucked and tie slightly askew. He was rushing now, already late for class. He began jogging, a slew of obscenities running through his mind. A group of boys crossed his past.

"Hey Pete!" The largest of the group, Mike Hunter, spoke, turning to the group behind him. "Running to class like a good schoolboy?" he jeered, while the rest of the group joined in as well. Peter pushed past them rudely.

"Maybe you should try it yourself. Perhaps then you would be less of a dumb ass."

The boys were shocked into silence by his rudeness. Peter didn't spare them a passing glance as he hurried off. He wasn't scared, quite the contrary. He had promised his family to stay out of fights, and he was determined to keep it, no matter how much he longed to knock that smug smile off Hunter's pretentious face. Besides, he risked losing his scholarship if he lingered. Hunter's group consisted of wealthy boys, people who's parents could pay for them to slack off. They had made his life hell since he had arrived, mainly due to the fact that Peter's good looks and humble personality had attracted his fair share of the girls Hunter was after. Not that Peter dated much. Girls were an enigma to him. He hadn't had a love connection with anyone. His pace quickened as he entered the English building and ran up the stairs, arriving just in time to squeeze into the back row unnoticed. He was apparently the last one to arrive, or so he thought. As he was hastily pulling his book from his bag the door to the classroom opened again. The contents of his bag fell everywhere as his book wrenched free. He bent down to pick up the paper and writing utensils strewn all over the floor. A brown hand reached down to help him. It had long, slim fingers, with each nail painted a deep shade of crimson. His gaze followed the hand which connected to an arm, then a torso, a neck, and finally, a face. A girl, tall for her sex, caramel colored and stunning, smiled at him as she handed his book back. He found himself blushing as he stuttered out a thanks. She nodded and slid past him to the only empty seat in the classroom, two seats down from him.

The lecture started without further interruption, but Peter could not concentrate. He took notes and listened without hearing and continually stole glances at the girl a few seats down. It was a miracle he had failed to notice her before. He blamed it on the size of the class, and the fact that he was normally thoroughly engrossed in the lecture. He would never make that mistake again. She was taking notes as well, her dark curls pulled back into a thick bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were alert and attentive as she listened. Sensing she was being watched, she turned her eyes toward Peter. He hastily looked away.

'Smooth,' he thought, 'way smooth Peter' and mentally kicked himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girls lips pull back into a slow smile, her top lip forming a perfect cupids bow. He found himself blushing again. The lecture ended after what seemed like hours. The room burst into motion as students gathered up their notes and hastily shoved them into backpacks and messenger bags. The girl rose from her seat just as Peter did. She smiled at him again.

"Hello," she said.

For once, Peter was at loss for words.