Character Study (I)

So here I am, utterly lost and helpless among the sea of people also trying to find their new classes. I'm at UC Irvine, my first choice university, and I've never wanted to go home more than I do right now. I miss sitting on the couch watching TV and doing nothing. I miss my dogs. And I'll definitely miss my own bed more than a little. I wonder if I'll make any new friends anytime soon, but somehow I don't really care at the moment.
I finally find my classroom, and gawk at the amount of chairs in this room. The air is filled with the nervous buzz of the other kids trying to make pointless conversation to calm themselves down. Everyone seems so dressed up; I'm wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans. Oops. Well, I couldn't really decide what to wear this morning. Instead, I'd just told myself it didn't matter.
One year ago, I'd been a senior in high school, slacking off and more concerned with when I would be able to sleep and for how many hours if I fell asleep right now (this is the only time I ever did well with math). Then all of a sudden, I realized that I might need to do better than just "Okay" if I wanted to get where I wanted to go.  I picked myself up, finished all of my work when it was due and got better grades on everything. As a result of that (or maybe the admissions people at UC Irvine could feel me willing them incessantly), I was accepted. I remember feeling shocked, then warm and fuzzy, and finally nervous as I actually thought about it. Oh my God, what am I getting myself into? A university and I'm only eighteen? I felt so young all of a sudden. I'll be by myself for the first time. I don't know if they'll let me bring my rabbit. I'll have to make my own dinner. *shudder*.
But then I was in the car with my parents, and we were driving and trying to talk about other things, and then we were on campus, and that was it. My mom cried and my dad smiled for her, and then they were gone.
My professor, who looks a little too young for this job, smiles and greets us. I go to sit in a seat nearby, but this jerk who totally knew I wanted it sits there instead. I glare and find a different seat. I guess there are worse ways to start the year.
Some girl runs into the classroom and hands a slip of paper to my professor, then quickly runs out. He looks at it, puzzled, then looks up and says, "Is there a Lillie Edmondson here?" Everyone looks around and a low buzz starts. I raise my hand. "This is for you. Looks like someone has a job for you."
I stand up and wind my way over to him, through all of the carelessly placed backpacks. I take the slip of paper and read the message, then follow the instructions. I take all of my things and make my way to the front courtyard. But who could want to talk to me?