Every type of private school guy you’ll meet at uni

Private school is rife with some questionable personalities. I don’t know if it was something in the god-awful meals, or else in the lowest possible percentage prosecco they doled out at formal events, but for some reason every private school had different variations on the same stock male characters. They were weird in their original context – downing orange squash for no apparent reason at match tea post-cricket match – but in the real world, they’re even weirder.

The captain of the rugby team

His Instagram was always full of snaps of him in action, likely playing for the county or even national team alongside the school’s 1^st XV. He religiously posted an emotional team photo after the last match of term with captions like ‘big love for these fellas, amazing game to end a quality season lads’. He was devastatingly attractive with a body resembling that of a Greek god, a solid 11 even when covered in mud, blood, and sweat. You were a solid 5 on a good day. Find him now on the floor of Mischief on a Wednesday struggling to pull a cheerleader. Where did it all go wrong?

Which one is he again

Your childhood sweetheart

It started so well, it ended so badly, and then you both got drunk at your Leaver’s Ball and made up at last. He was your first everything. He was cute, and you still think he is, even if your friends don’t. You have regular catch-ups now, you’re still friends with his mum on Facebook, and his sister routinely likes all your photos. A part of you still thinks you’ll marry him. You’ll pretend to be really happy for him when he inevitably gets a girlfriend at uni but deep down you’ll always kind of hate the bitch.

The king of the fuckboys

There was always one at school who trumped the rest. It was only a matter of time before your friends all got with him too. Hey – he was pretty attractive, knew all the best places to hook up, and you actually managed to have a bit of a laugh whenever you met up with him. Slouching round the school with the cool confidence of a guy who’s got with nigh on 50% of the school, it was kind of hard not to fall for him and his dastardly ways. And no, you were not the one to tame him, though you wanted to be. He probably fell in love in the first semester of uni and has been cuffed down ever since: you stalk his new girlfriend and wonder what it was about her that made him ditch the old lifestyle.

So suave

The head boy

A bit dweeby, a bit too involved in extra-curricular activities, a bit too close to the teachers, but still everybody’s best friend. Everyone knew right from the beginning he’d be head boy. Was it something in the way he spoke – always immaculate RP, perfect for public speaking? Or perhaps the way he strode up the school corridors, perfect blend of self-righteous arrogance and casual poise? Either way, he got on with everyone, you made sure to get a picture with him at the Leavers’ Ball. Now his ‘fun fact’ to introduce himself in seminars is the fact he was head boy and frankly, no one gives a shit.

If you were lucky he’d give you a shout out in his Leavers’ speech

The stoner

Perpetually on the run from teachers and forever walking into chapel bleary-eyed and half-asleep, it’s a wonder they never got expelled. Or maybe they did. You don’t remember much about them because they hardly turned up to anything and if they did they certainly didn’t contribute anything meaningful. They were handy to supply you with their dealer’s number, and they were always up for going for a fag behind the art block, but there was seldom any connection deeper than that. They’re likely in James Bailie now, almost never making the slouch down Woodhouse Lane to uni, instead only venturing out to hit up Canal Mills.

The really, really decent guy

He was so decent he probably had a few consecutive girlfriends for five years, meaning that was never a possibility for you two, but god he was just the best. He’d give you a big bear hug whenever you were down. He’d threaten to beat up any guy that hurt you. He’d notice whenever you did something different with your hair. Lessons with him were always the best, and you really, really miss him. In the context of uni, he’s the type of guy to come and find you at 4am when you get lost in town even though he has a 9am. He’ll pay for your Cripsy’s. He’s just a gem.

Everyone needs one really, really decent guy in their life

The one that got every prize at Prizegiving

Biology Prize, Physics Prize, English Prize, Chemistry Prize, History Prize, Prize for getting all the bloody prizes. You couldn’t even hate him because he was one of those quiet types who just beavered away doing their work at the back of the class and consistently came out with 100% in every test. He’s probably at Oxford now. He’ll probably win a Nobel Prize.

The family friend

Basically your brother. He’d seen you grow from an innocent, chubby little thing into the slightly-above-average woman you are today. You’d glare at any bitch that broke his heart, and he’d have strong words with any guy that tried to mess with you. You had each other’s backs in a way that no one else could understand. There’s a bond that’s made over joint family Sunday roast dinners that can never be broken. During Freshers’ Week he was your rock, there to console you after all the come-downs and the post-one night stand regret. You’d literally die without him.

Thank god for puberty

The one that looked like Sid from Ice Age

You know the one. He still looks like Sid.

The choir boy

He was constantly humming something under his breath, coming and going from the music school like it was his second home. He got all the good solos in the concerts: no surprise when he was part of the chapel choir and the chamber choir and National Youth Choir. He sang the first verse of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ at the carol service and you fancied him for about a week after that because damn, he could sing. Catch him now changing his profile picture every other month, promoting his latest role in the opera/musical theatre production/Union gig.

He was amazing tbf

The arty one

Forever toting a huge black sketchbook, the arty alpha male always carried a lingering smell of white spirit underneath his expensive aftershave. He dressed well, had good hair, and was amazing at art. You’d stand over his shoulder, gaping, open-mouthed, at his charcoal drawings. It’d take every ounce of your strength not to strip off and demand he paint you like one of his French girls. You’d die a little inside if he ever complimented any of your artwork. You remained brutally friendzoned for the duration of your time at school, but you didn’t really mind, because he was such a decent friend anyway. He used to bring you coffee in lessons. Now he does all sorts of drugs and lives at Beaver Works and doesn’t really draw much anymore.

Where did it all go wrong

The one that pissed themselves once and never lived it down

There was always one. They’ll have finally shaken off the stigma at uni until you go and visit them and tell all his flatmates the story. He’ll hate you.

The one that was kind of weird

Weird comes in different varieties: maybe they shared strange content on Facebook captioned ‘LOL!!!!’, maybe they used the ‘XD’ face non-ironically past the age of 13, maybe they made painfully unfunny jokes in lessons. This is the guy that was weirdly passionate about rock climbing. Even the teachers hated this kid. He likely went to a really obscure university and you’ll never hear of his bizarre antics again.