An: It's a good thing I didn't post this when I first finished, I left out like, the last half. And I was going to wait for someone to finish this, but someone gets on my ass when I don't update ;). AND House season 7 came out today, I plan to watch the crap out of the first few episodes.

Greg was laying on his back in bed with his hands behind his head, looking up at his ceiling. If someone looked at his face, they'd think he was either angry at it, or looking for something. He felt a hand on his chest and broke the staring contest with his bedroom ceiling and turned his head. He smirked at the cute, very limber blonde in bed next to him. "Hey," she smiled sleepily.

"Hey," he repeated quietly.

"Seems like things were getting intense with the ceiling," she teased. He looked at her with neutral expression. "So, I got awhile before my first class, if you have anything in mind to kill time," she smiled suggestively, she moved her hand up to his cheek, and traced his bottom lip with her thumb, "I could be open to it." She glanced down to follow her thumb with her eyes, "Oh," she exclaimed softly. "What happened there?" She traced the cresent shaped scar on the inside of his lip with the tip of her thumb. He pulled at his lip, and bent his head so she let go. She let her hand drop, "I didn't know lacrosse was so rough."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly.

"Oh my god," her fingers ran over his shoulder, finding more scars, "this sport kicks your ass."

He rubbed his shoulder, prompting her to take her hand back again, "Necessary roughness for love." He let his hand hit his pillow, "Um, you know, I actually have to go. I have to go call a friend an idiot and collect on a bet." He sat up and turned so his feet were on the ground, pulling on his boxer and the rest of his clothes so quickly, and with such ease that it could only be a result of practice. He was fully dressed, shoes tied and everything, in under a minute. "I'll see you around." Greg went out his bedroom door, closing it behind him so she could get dressed, and walked down the hall. He saw his two roommates at the island in the kitchen. The light haired brunette, tool like at times Robby had a gallon of milk and a cereal bowl infront of him, and he was standing next to blonde hair. Well, that's all he could see. Robby was talking to her, and was either annoying her, or boring her.

"Tell him to shut the fuck up," the Irish voice pleaded, muffled by the wall created by her arms. Option one it is.

"What's wrong with this one?" Robby asked, ignoring her, with an amused tone and smile.

"Nothing," Greg grabbed his jacket that was hung over the back of a chair.

"Then why you speeding out of here?"

"Busy," he answered, pulling on his jacket. "It's an unavoidable prior engagement." He continued towards the door.

"What's her name?" Greg was just about to step out the door when he heard that muffled question.

He kept his hand on the knob and turned around. Her head was still down. "I don't know," he answered after a minute, then turned around and left.

Robby laughed, "Nice Fi," he put his fist out to her.

"If you think for one second I'm going to fist bump, you are out of your fucking mind."

He made a face, picked up the milk and turned to put it in the fridge. "Well aren't we an angry little leprechaun this morning?" He mumbled. "Doesn't the angry leprechaun need her notebook?" He heard something slide across the counter top, then held up her plastic cover spiral bound notebook.

Greg actually did have something to do that day, not collect on a bet, and not right when he left his apartment, but he had a game. He was so bored in the hours before the game, as he was during the entire summer. It was a sad day when he found himself wishing for school...the first summer at college. There were only two people he genuinely enjoyed spending time with. Well, there were two more, but he rarely saw them. "G-man!" Greg stopped walking and looked to his right, nodded when he saw his friend. Dylan Crandal jogged to catch up with Greg. "What's up?"

"There's nothing to do at this school."

"Your interest is just hard to hold," Crandal corrected.

"Not when there's something interesting."

Crandal smirked and shook his head. "Hey, do you have a game today."

"Why?" He glanced at him. "You gonna come be my cheerleader?"

"You only wish I'd put on that outfit. But I am going to be there."

"Why? We're not dating."

Crandal shrugged, "Something to do."

"Wait, didn't someone just say it's my fault I'm bored?" Crandal smiled and they kept walking.

After he'd proved his superiority, again, on the field, he heard a whistle, and looked into the bleachers. About halfway back, there was a girl. He couldn't tell much with his helmet on, and the sun in his eyes, but he could tell that she was short, had dark, curly hair, and he could just tell she was cute. He hadn't gone for many girls with dark hair in a long time, if you asked him, he would say he didn't know why. But he knew that he really like that she was looking at him, more often than not, a girl would start talking to her friends, giggle, then start twirling her hair around her finger. Someone hit him in the arm, causing him to look away from her.

An: Guess who that was...