If you haven’t seen the beautiful, fun illustrations of Disney characters as college students by hyung86, you should do so immediately, because 1) they will make you happy, and 2) this is a textual, AP-themed, loosely-inspired version of that. Enjoy.
She’s a Sociology major at the state school closest to her home, which she visits every weekend. You all feel kind of bad and try to socialize with her, but she just responds with some canned friendly banter and vacant eyes, so you eventually learn to smile at her in the hallways. Her roommates don’t mind her at all because she vacuums the dorm every night and makes everyone’s bed to align with some psycho-physical feng shui she seems to subscribe to. Your hall has a running joke where she sacrificed her own personality to make room for her commentary on others’.
Dark hair. Weird eyes. You can’t tell if the Sigur Rós that always seems to play when you’re around him is coming from his clunky green headphones or if it’s just this ethereal vibe that always follows him around. He’s a little pretentious and uncomfortable to be around, but maybe that’s just because there’s this secret part of you that thinks he’s kind of hot.
AP United States History
She’s a Poly-Sci major at that “rich kid school.” Her daddy told her that she was going to be a Supreme Court Justice from her first day of kindergarten, and neither of them ever quite let that go. She has blonde hair that’s always in a ponytail, and a dent in her teeth from always chewing on pens. She’s almost unnaturally nice, and still isn’t sure if the one-upmanship of the political world is for her. Maybe she’ll just stick to being president of her sorority.
You went to high school with him for all four years, but you didn’t even know he existed before you heard that he got into Princeton. And you were more excited about it than he seemed to be. He’s really smart, and you can tell–always lurking in the back of class drawing these really complicated geometric patterns while you’re busting your butt to do work that’s half as good. But there’s also something a bit…off. No one knows who his friends are, where he lives, or why he never really comes to class. You remember seeing him smile once when your professor made a dirty joke. You told all your friends about it.
No one knows where he came from but the women are f-l-o-c-k-i-n-g. He’s tall and kind of gangly in a cute way, with this light-brown hair that’s nonchalantly swept to the side. His dad wanted him to join the military, but he always knew he was too soft for that. Now he’s an engineering major and good-natured frat boy who still has to learn how many beers he can handle.
She has an English muffin for breakfast every morning–literally, every day. She heads down to the fitness center and does the same workout–by herself at 7:00 AM, with punching bags. Then, she heads to this specific bench in the garden across campus and cranks out her senior thesis like being an Applied Mathematics major only requires 30% of her attention at any given time. She goes to class when she feels like it. She floats from social group to social group. You’re not quite sure if she likes any of you. You’re not quite sure if she likes anything, for that matter. She heads back to her dorm at 8:30 PM every night and stays up watching documentaries about space. There are suspicions about her being either a secret agent or a supercomputer.
Stocky. Flannel-wearing. Sometimes-shaving. Something calculated behind his eyes. He was Dartmouth-bound until he decided that he wanted to be closer to the ocean, so now he spends his weekends doodling carbon structures in the stern of his yacht. His dad comes from old money and wants him to go to Georgetown for grad school, but he’s tired of it all and just wants to self-educate in the comfort of his own room. He’s plenty attractive but he never looks you in the eye, and has a surprisingly weak handshake. Attempts at conversation are rewarded with cold, curt replies, so you usually avoid him altogether. Whatever.
She’s been on a straight-track to med-school since she can remember, and nothing can deter her from her dream of becoming a neuroscientist. She swears she only drinks decaf, but the light in her eyes just never goes out so you’re convinced that she’s either a liar or an extra-terrestrial. It’s rumored that she sleeps in the library and just doesn’t have a dorm, but no one knows for sure. Regardless, she somehow manages to make crooked glasses and a three-day ponytail look cute. Unreasonably nice. Inhumanly motivated. You hate her a little.
AP Art History
He’s not exactly a Renaissance man, but the ladies don’t care. You’re pretty sure that he’s incapable of doing anything outside of spurting multicultural-mythology-factoids and claiming that he plays the violin, but dang does he do it well. He looks like a Greek god–curly hair and all–and reaps the benefits, hooking up with anything with a pulse and deluding himself into thinking that he’ll get a job as a Classics major. He always brings his own beer. Rumor has it there’s a kombucha bomb under his bed.
AP Literature and Composition
People used to make fun of her for being this bony wallflower sort of figure, but she’s starting to grow into her marble-eyes and incessantly-tangled-hair. Her roommate read a few of the diaries under her bed and learned that she had to transfer high-schools after physically assaulting another student that had tried to read her poetry. Beside the diaries are a bunch of books from libraries across 20 different states. You think she might’ve stolen them? There’s a tiny streak of blue in her hair. She has a strangely intimate relationship with your Intro to Philosophy professor, but you all pretend you don’t notice…