When Ethan got into Blackmore University, the school in New York with the best looking frat guys, both in looks and body, and hottest yet academically smart girls, he didn't expect it to be anything like the movies— and in some ways, he was right. But in others ways, he was totally, one hundred percent, motherfucking shitshowing-ly wrong.

Ethans a nerd— he knows that, his sister Quinn knows that, everyone knows that. He's the guy in the movie that's the awkward dorky, the one who takes some shit class that nobody likes, in this case, Econ. He's the guy that everyone kinda feels bad for, just 'cause he's so loveable, even if Ethan would describe himself as anything but the term of endearment.

Flustered around semi-good looking girls? Yeah, probably. Totally smart in everything but social skills, other than the occasional greeting or normal reply? Pretty much sums it up. Hands that get abnormally sweaty anytime a girl even looks in his line of sight— okay, yeah, you get the jist of it.

But the part that definitely wasn't like the movies was meeting you. Beutifual, sweet, amazing you. Meeting Chad seemed awfully predictable, the “ condescending alpha” roommate, as Ethan calls it, even if he is the guys best friend. Sam, Tara, some siblings new lesbian love interest— blah blah blah, we get it, Ethan gets it, but he didn't get you.

You weren't supposed to be a character from the movies, hell, you weren't a character from the movies, period— something Mindy reminded the group every time she caught Ethan staring at you with googly eyes and drool falling from his mouth. But fuck what Mindy said— fuck what anyone said! The twin was too involved in her knowledge of films, and Ethan didn't want this stupid stereotypical cliché to happen, where the cute girl doesn't look the nerds way until he dies or some dumb shit.

Even if he was totally stuck on the point that nothing could ever happen between you two? It's not like you would ever go out with Ethan, not with you're looks, and intelligence, and you're 'smokin hot body he looked at a little too long (he was a virgin, give him a break—emphasise on the was.) Shit— Ethan was a virgin. In college. He was a seventeen year old virgin, now he definitely had no chance with you, or at least less than he did before.

Turns out he was wrong— real life is very different from the movies. Which is how you guys ended up confessing to one another at a Halloween frat party, hooking up in some guys dormroom in the fraternity house, and having a kid together— wait, kid? Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck, that wasn't in the movies. But then again, this was nothing like the movies.

“Casey! Casey, you— Casey Landry, you put that down right this instant!” Ethan was already familiar with the fatherly tone he used to scold you're little shit-head, the disapproving look in his eyes that got overshadowed by his amusement. “You're lucky you're mom's taking you today—” The brunette grumbles as he scoops you're little girl up in his arms, kicking you're door shut behind him.

“What? What do you mean you can't take her today? You— you told me you had a free period!” Turns out that raising a three year old kid in college was way harder than the two of you anticipated. “Well I can't take her, I have back to back Econ lectures!” He whines, sounding like you're child, whilst pulling some random textbook she was ripping pages from out of her grasp— again.

“Baby, you told me you could have her for the day! Everyone else is busy, the daycares shut down for the next few weeks!” Ethan gently pulls Casey from where she had been clinging to his neck, placing her on the ground, where her arms now enveloped you're legs in a death grip. “Huh? Oh, I dunno, lice infestation or 'sum shit.”

You're little bundle of joy clings to you're leg tighter than before, her mouth weakly biting at you're ankle, a teething habit you and Ethan had been trying to get rid of for months. “Hey,” he mutters, lightly kicking at you're kids body as he glares down at her. “Stop mouthing you're mom, kiddo.”