Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Driiiiip. Dropppp.

The sounds just were getting gentler; the small globs of water pattering against my window were slowly becoming less frequent. But my insomnia wasn't. I couldn't sleep, I could barely eat, and my grades looked like they came from hell. College just wasn't working out for me.

It wasn't the all-night cram sessions; it wasn't the pressure of my parent's high expectations. It wasn't missing the huge parties my dorm mates were always throwing, and it definitely wasn't a girl I was crushing on. That was the last thing on my mind. It always was.

No, I could handle college in itself. I just couldn't handle the fact that college meant starting over. Of course, I had done that a year ago. Started over. Started over as the 'new' Marco Del Rossi. The non-gay one.

Everyone I knew had been lead on. The guys I shared a dorm with weren't even aware that they were sleeping with a guy who would prefer holding their hand than jumping the sorority girls' bones. I could easily play along with their games, I had done so for a year back in grade nine. And then I did it again in grades eleven and twelve. I could do it again.

The only problem was that every time I lied, every time I played along and pretended I was straight, he popped into my head. Images of the happiest time of my life flashed before my eyes, his smell filled my nose, and I could still taste his tongue, from the few times we actually did go that far. I could remember well.

"Took you long enough to get here." Dylan was leaning against his car, wrapped up in his red jacket when I came running up to him, smoothly skidding along the slick ice in front of his feet.

"You only called ten minutes ago, dork." I slid into the arms he was holding out to me and pulled down his head with my hand at the back of his neck.

"It feels like I've been waiting for an eternity," he breathed, his mouth only an inch or two from mine.

"That's because you haven't called me for two days," I said scornfully. I wanted him to beg.

"I had exams. You know I suck at science." He put on that puppy dog face which he knew drove me insane. The cold making his nose and cheeks rosy red wasn't helping much either.

"Really? I thought chemistry was your best subject."

He smiled the same smile he always did, but it still made me melt at the knees. I could feel myself begin to blush, like I always did, and averted my eyes to his Nikes. They were his favorite shoes, worn out to that perfect comfy spot where they didn't have holes, but they still weren't too tight or too loose.

"Are my shoes really that interesting?"

I looked back up at him, broken out of my shoe trance. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he whispered into my ear.

Oh, God. I could feel his breath on my ear, it chilling and warming the right side of my body at the same time. I felt myself shake, a tingle go down my spine. And then I smiled. He knew I was smiling, too, even though I still hadn't looked back up. Because when I did look up; he was looking at me like he always does when he's going to tell me that he loves me.

"I love you," he cooed.

All I could do was blow out a laugh, and bite my lip. Even though I knew he was going to say that, I wasn't prepared. I never was. Because, truth was, I loved him back.

I gripped his fingertips covered in black leather, and rocked our hands back and forth.

"Really?" was my reply.

"Forever and always."

I felt soft, warm, gooey drops fall down my cheeks when I spun back into reality. I could hear my roommates pounding down the hallway, and soon enough, I heard a key twist into the door. I dove into my covers, opened up my French book to a random page to create the illusion that I fell asleep studying, and closed my eyes.

"Zack! Shut up, man!" My roommate's best friend Kevin entered first, the clinging sound of a six-pack in his hand.

"You really need to lighten up, you know tha-" He obviously stopped when he saw me curled up in a ball next to my coveted French book.

"Is he always studying?" Kevin asked.

"That or sleeping," Zack said reluctantly.

"You need to find a new roommate, man." Kevin plopped down on Zack's bed, making the springs react, and popped open a bottle of beer, most likely Miller Lite.

"Dude, shut up! Marco's a good roommate. He doesn't play loud music, he doesn't smoke, or," he cleared his throat. "Drink."

"Sorry, dude. Every man has his poison." Kevin took a long, noisy swig.

I decided that that was the time to awaken, gather my books together, and retreat to the library. I wasn't going to sleep a wink with Kevin talking about me like that anyways, and I had finals before Christmas came around in a week.

"Sorry we woke you, man!" Kevin called when I shut the door in their faces. Sometimes I chuckle at the fact of how Spinner pales in comparison of Kevin obnoxious-wise.

I ran down the two flights of stairs to the lower floor, feeling that I had to burn that excess energy. My jeans were killing me, they were way too tight on the crotch, but I really couldn't worry about that now. I had no money, except for ten bucks and an I.O.U. from Zack. I had to survive for the next week, so buying new jeans was out of the question.

I passed the girls' dormitories while walking to the library across the courtyard. There were two girls who looked like they were in my year, sophomore, sitting on a bench along the covered pathway I was taking.

"Did you hear that we're getting a new hockey center?" the red-headed one, dressed in a plaid mini and short-sleeved button down blouse exclaimed.

"Yep. All the way from Toronto!" The blonde, whom I now recognized to be Kevin's ex, was peeling a banana as she said this.

I stopped dead in my tracks. Toronto. Hockey. Center. Those three words made my world come to a grinding halt. Everything in my mind began to race, anything having to do with him, with Degrassi, with Toronto.

It couldn't be him, though. Last time I heard, Dylan had a full scholarship to Toronto University. He wouldn't give that up for Vancouver. Would he?

"What's his name? I completely forget," the red head asked.

"It's something foreign. I remember that much," Katey, the blonde, said.

Foreign? Oh, shit.

"Excuse me? Did you need... something?"

I whipped my head around to see Katey and the red head staring at me. Why wouldn't they have stared? I was a guy, standing on the sidewalk to the girl's dormitories, and I was carrying a bulky backpack. Why wouldn't they have been suspicious?

"Oh... sorry. I spaced out there for a second." I was turning a bit red; I could feel it, so I continued on my way, even though I could still hear them talk.

"So, anyways, I think his first name starts with a D..."

A 'D'? Oh. My. God.

I felt a bit faint for a moment, before I realized I had stopped again, and they would think I was some psycho stalker freak if I stayed.

"Um, if you have anything to say, you can, you know," I heard Katey say. I spun around on my heel to face them, clenching onto my backpack strap.

"Uh, well, that hockey player you're talking about."

"Yes?"

"Is his name..." Oh, God. I could feel my throat start to close up. I felt like I was going to die, right then and there. Even thinking of saying his name started to tare me apart inside.

"You know his name?" The red head looked eager.

"Uh- it's- uh..." I could feel my head getting light.

"I remember! Dylan Michalchuck!" Katey shouted.

Then I hit the ground, going black.