Me: Lev! I've travelled back in time to prepare you for your Freshman year!

Lev: Wow! Future-me!

Me: I have to give you warnings from the future about Freshman year. Because you can change what happens and-

Lev: Oh wow! It's like the fifth season of Lost! That ends cool, right?

Me: …sure, yeah, totally. But back to business. Our high-school girlfriend? Dump her fast. Sorry.

Lev: What!? But she's perfect, she's the most beautiful, perfect girl at my high school…

Me: Keep going…

Lev: In my grade…of 90 kids…

Me:Go further.

Lev: …who would get with me.

Me: That's what I thought. Which reminds me: the first girl you hook up with at a frat party is not your girlfriend.

Lev: What? But we made out and everything!

Me: I know. But do not triple text her. You will look creepy.

Lev: Maybe her phone is broken…

Me: No it isn't. And apparently telegrams are 'creepy.'

Lev: Even singing telegrams?

Me: Yeah, it's weird. Girls, right? And another thing: don't wear the same "Tufts" sweatshirt every day. Everyone knows you go there. You're on the campus. You don't need to remind-

Lev: Woo! I go to a college! Woo!

Me: Stop that. The more you talk about being in college, the less you are. Calm down, freshman.

Lev: …Woo…

Me: And the frat that's the nicest to Freshman guys the first month of school? They're also the lamest.

Lev: Go Gamma's! Those guys are so chill, man. I'm totes pledging…

Me: No, they're the lamest. So are you. Anything actually cool should hate you.

Lev: What? Why?

Me: You're a freshman boy and you just said 'totes.'

Lev: Pshh. Whatevs, hater.

Me: Moving on: three beers is not a lot of beers. You should stop bragging about that. And drinking three beers doesn't mean you should tell girls you were in the Israeli army.

Lev: Did you-

Me: They will find out.