‘That’s cool!’ Pat Number One said cheerfully, undaunted and just as bouncy as ever. He was practically bobbing up and down like a life-sized birthday balloon. ‘We can keep it platonic! Friends are great! Hey – we could be exercise buddies!’

That was when I left. I’m not offended by someone asking to slip me the tongue at a party, but there’s no way in hell they’re making me do sit-ups. THAT is taking things too far.

After I had gone to the bathroom, chatted people up in search of smuggled rum, failed and returned to the snack table, I met Pat Number Two.

Now Pat Number One may have been too optimistic for me, but Pat Number Two was sadder than the Twitterverse when One Direction broke up. The first thing he said to me when he approached me by the soda was: ‘You probably don’t wanna talk to me.’

Pat Number Two was obviously a freshman. He was doing a fairly good job blending in – he even had a blue button-down on – but I could still tell he was a freshman. There’s no hiding that scared-rabbit look in your eyes and the rash on your neck from unnecessarily shaving with a five-blade Mach razor when your face is smoother than Elle Fanning’s ass.

So I tried to be nice, even though, to be honest, he was right – I probably didn’t want to talk to him. I introduced myself and asked where he was from.

‘Lubbock, Texas,’ he said, and added sadly, ‘Twelve hundred thirty-eight miles away.’

The kid was seriously homesick. But the weird thing was, instead of bumming me out, his melancholy made me get oddly enthusiastic about St Mary’s. Hey, what can I say? I’m a contradictory person.

‘Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it here!’ I chirped reassuringly. ‘I bet you’ve met a lot of cool people already!’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know anyone. I ended up at this dance by accident because I got lost trying to find the library.’

‘You’ll make a whole bunch of friends!’ I lied. ‘And this place is awesome! I mean, sure, the dorm rules are anal-retentive. And homework’s a bitch. And people are crazy competitive – like last year, in the PSATs, this kid started giving me crazy eyes during the math section, and I thought he was gonna stab me in the thigh with his pencil. Yeah, everyone can be a little nuts here. Not as nuts as the weather, though! Have you ever lived through a Minnesota winter? We’re talking apocalyptic, Game of Thrones-style winter here …’

As I was talking, Pat Number Two’s eyes grew wider and more terrified until it looked like he was about to number two himself.