Sam rattled into Stanford University on a Monday afternoon on the free local shuttle; the red and white bus declared its use of biodiesel in bold lettering down the sides. He stepped off the bus, with his single duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and just stood there on the grass taking in the scenery – the cool midday air, the other students passing by, the smell of freshly mowed grass and the eclectic mixture of buildings that represented something that he wanted for once. He stood there in silence, a small grin playing over his lips, eyes wide open, breathing in the freedom of it all with a combination of exhilaration and sheer terror…

And he wished Dean was there with him.