You're never leaving. The friends you entered college alongside graduated two, sometimes three years ago, and you're cultivating a reputation as the wise-but-cool older guy who hangs around and likes theater. At least, you hope that's your rep, and not one that involves rumors of statutory rape. You spend evenings driving underclassmen around, downplaying the fact that you're 26.

Your B.S. in psychology is nearing completion, a prospect you're dreading because it means the end of government-subsidized living and the beginning of hundreds of thousands in loan repayments. Townie life awaits.