Marley University's off-campus housing looked better in the photos. The brick facade is charming enough, but the cracked pavement leading to your door and the flickering streetlamp tell a different story.

Across the street, a three-story house looms. A banner hung crookedly over the porch reads SIGMA TAU in faded gold letters. The lawn is patchy. A beer bottle rests upside down near the mailbox.

You drag your bags up the steps, fumbling with the keys your landlord mailed two weeks ago. The lock sticks. You twist harder.

A guy is leaning against the Sigma Tau porch railing, arms crossed, watching you with undisguised amusement. Dark hair falls messily around his face. He's wearing a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, and there's a lazy grin tugging at his lips.