Hi, thanks for reading! Just thought I'd let you know that everything from here on out will be told by through Stephen's perspective. Enjoy (:

"Whoa, I'm sorry about last night."

"Take it easy man, it's alright." Rob Faye believes he has done some great undoing to me by being drunk and stupid. I suppose only one of those things is his fault, so I remain forgiving. He's lucky I'm a morning person.

"Seriously, I'm not a fag or anything. I mean, I think you're ugly." his voice was far more reassuring than what he actually said. I gaped at him openly.

"Thanks, man. Nothing says 'heterosexual' quite like a blatant insult." I realized that there was an increased amount of vigor in the simple act of putting my socks on. Hey, look at the bright side; it's only four years of my dwindling youth.

"What the hell!? It was just a tap on the lips!" I glance up at him in complete confusion, his face had morphed into that of a glowing pink strawberry. "I'm not proud of it or anything, so stop being a fucking fruitcake!" As he examined the confusion on my face, the color on his face went violent.

"You never kissed me. You're out of your mind if you think I'd let you kiss me." I stated plainly. He glared at me, beads of sweat forming on his veiny temples.

"Shit." he muttered to himself, his eyes darting from the minute window to his left. He skid out the door, leaving me smiling with a scowl. As I pulled on my light blue "This is a HOODIE", hoodie; I couldn't help but hope that next time Rob gets too drunk to involve himself with a random man, that he puts a cowboy hat on the doorknob.

Despite my tour of the campus, I soon realize that I have no idea where the cafeteria is. Having some unusual masculine complex against asking for directions, I attempted sleath peeks around colorlorn buildings and bare trees. After ten minutes, I stood before the drab gate with a throbbing head and an auditory stomach. Leaning against the worn brick, I shot bullets of air into the sky. After I shot enough rounds to get me panting, I peered through the rustied bars of the gate and noticed a Wendy's across the street. O, the rapture!

One misdemeanor later (jaywalking), I am standing in line, poring through the value menu like a post-apoclyptic priest to his bible. Four and a half minutes later, my face is covered with all of the internal contents of a Chicken sandwich, soon to be accompanied by Pepsi and chili. It was a little pathetic to consider that this was the most satisfied I felt about anything since I arrived to the Ohio University campus. But technically, this fast-food servicing abode wasn't on-campus...What was the point of trying to be optimistic? I can lie to everyone else, but I shouldn't lie to myself. College is going to suck balls.

With retained emotion and a warmth in my belly, I noticed a storm of color billowing beside me. A deep, exuberant orange, trickling down gracelessly into a pungent yellow. It was the most welcoming sight I've beheld in at least two weeks, let alone since I had entered Ohio University. It danced further and further away from me, despite the fact that I was mentally beckoning it back to me. Figures, if people can shut me out, I guess colors can, too. But as it moved away and my eyes focused on the bigger picture, I saw that this color was, in some way related to people. Or rather, person. The color was an example of a long, cotton skirt. Unsurprisingly, this person was a woman. Even though she had her back turned to me and was moving further away from my general range of vision, I could see that this girl did not belong in white bread America. She had bright orange flowers weaved into dark, thick hair. Her tan arms swayed uncaringly as she sat down and began to leaf through a book. This had to be the first time I actually saw someone reading a book since arriving here.

She completely stuck out, and for that she was officially the coolest person I've met here. And I hadn't even met her yet.

Had I of been a bolder man, I would of asked to sit with her. I would tell her that she's the most interesting person I've met and pass it off as a joke, despite it's truth. I would of been intelligent and almost gentlemanly as I asked what she was reading and somehow have it lead to me collecting her phone number. I wouldn't ask her out or anything, I wouldn't even think about sleeping with her. I would just pass the time with someone with at least half a functioning brain, an amenity I've been denied for some years now.

But in the same token, my time as an extrovert was also some years ago. My social style has changed, to not include generating relationships out of stale air with complete strangers in fast food restaurants. So, without a moment's hesitation or a single backwards glance, I pick up my trash and toss it in the trash, abandoning the serving tray at the table. The faceless beige beauty and I will have to meet again in another life. Or in Hell. Whichever comes first.


"Yo, Stephen! You feel like going to a party tonight?"

It took me a few moments to realize that Rob was sober. Was he actually attempting niceities with me? I had to admit to myself, I assumed that Rob would quietly submit to his stereotype and social class; ignore the indie rocker roommate while he uses Daddy's funds to buy hideous plaid shorts from American Eagle Outfitters and funnels for competitive drinking. Poo on me for being so prejudicial.

"Thanks, but we've got classes tomorrow. I don't want to show up hungover on the first day." He laughed hard, exposing a set of round, recently bleached teeth. He lightly slapped my shoulder.

"That's half of the fun!" he thundered back. Disreguarding the wildly indignant look on my face, he tried to tempt me, "I met this girl at the party I went to yesterday, total freak. She did like, three guys in a pool all at once!"

"Mmm, yummy."

"And," his eyelids hovered closely over his eyes in a would-be smug fashion, "She told me that she has a thing for guys with piercings." He has referring to my minimally gauged earlobes that were aligned with two smaller piercings on the side of each ear and my infamous eyebrow ring. "She says she likes the rings on the nipples the best, do you got those?"

"No, unfortunately." I was considering to shoot back with a "Of course, I've got fifteen onall three!" but I knew all too well that he wouldn't pick up any of the sarcasm. I suddenly realized that sarcasm would be very useless in this school. This knowledge seemed to cast yet another shadow on Ohio University for me.

"Just come, please? It looks good if I bring a lot of freshman, there'll be kegs, sweet tunes and I so promise you'll get laid tonight." I rolled my eyes to the sunless window behind him.

"Alright, but just for a little while," He broke out in a broad smile that, hadn't it of been so moronic, might of actually been endearing.

"AWESOME! I knew you were cool when I met you!" He gave me the weird "Man Hug". You know the type; Man 1 grabs the hand of Man 2, they bump shoulders together, andwhile using their free hands to thump one another on the back. I'm not outlandishly tall by any means, but given his 5'5''-ish stature and my lack of cooperation, the "Man Hug" turned into a girly body tap. I immidiately hoped never to have to ensue in thatfalsified personal interaction with Rob again. All the more reason not to go to anymore parties with him.

Within 3 hours, we arrived inside the dim, crowded room that pulsated with pheromones and bad music. Rob motioned me to stay in place so he could find that skank for me, but what with the inconsistency on the dance floor and my desire to be defiant against Rob, I found myself looming over a plastic table beside a heavily stained courdoroy couch. This table contained two medium-sized coolers of assorted beers. As I made my selections, I came to terms with the fact that I didn't like myself as a drunk. In all frankness though, I liked myself even less when sober, because as I drunk I would of thrown five punches before allowing Rob to drag me to his hellhole.

Halfway into my third Budweiser, Rob had caught up to me, toting a brunette that wore a sinister smile and a ripped, revealing tanktop. She eyed me up in down as though famished, and with absolutely no sense of subltety. "So this is my friend Steve." Steve? I glanced around in my light buzz. Nobody ever called me Steve, and I liked to keep it that way; seeing as that name never fails to remind me of the former host of Blues Clues that died of drug overdose.

"Nononono..." I slurred, realizing I was more gone than I thought. "I'm..." I tried to think about someone that a woman would not want to have sex with. After about nine seconds, I offered the only name I could come up with, "Colin Mochrie."

At this point, Rob had disappeared and this girl was standing some six inches too close. "Ooh, that's a hot name..." I laughed crazily.

"I," I leaned closer and her already seductive smile erupted in a vicious sexual chagrin. "I'm going to walk the hell away from you." Without waiting to watch her overly confident mug melt into an ugly reflection of who this girl really was, I fumbled with three more beers and pranced straight out the door.