Uriel Angelo was just a normal college student. He went to class everyday like a normal college student, studied hard like a normal college student, and ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner like a normal college student. He even dressed like a normal college student, with his black Converse shoes, his dark-blue jeans, his olive-green flannel shirt with a maroon-red T-shirt underneath, and his yellow backpack on his shoulder. 

The only thing that was perhaps not quite normal about him was the color of his hair: a head of stark white hair—as white as the purest of winter's snow—styled into short messy dreads. The whiteness of his hair was so prominent, it was a complete contrast to his dark ebony-toned skin. What’s up with the white hair, you might ask? Well, don’t ask. He doesn’t like to talk about it.

Okay, but in case you really, really, really want to know, he didn’t dye his hair that way. He was born with it. Yeah, I know. It’s weird. And not just him. His father, his mother, his two older brothers—they’re all born with white hair. It’s a genetic thing. Or at least he thinks it is. Anyway, as he grew up, he learned to deal with it. Some people thought it was cool. Other people thought it was weird. But he learned to deal with it all the same. Like I said, he doesn’t like to talk about it.

After a long day of classes, Uriel headed back to his dorm room. The moment he entered, he saw two naked people having sex. And not only that, they were having sex on his bed. His bed! It was a small room with one bunk bed and he happened to have the bottom bunk. And two people just so happened to be having sex in it. 

Just great, Uriel thought sarcastically. This day can’t possibly get any better than this.

The couple that was having sex was a man and a woman. The moment Uriel entered the room, both of them were alerted to his presence. The woman Uriel didn’t recognize—probably one of the college girls from around the campus—but the man Uriel recognized almost instantly. He was Uriel’s roommate, Brett. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, by the way. For Brett, it was pretty much a new woman every week. And it was always on his bed. To say that Uriel was annoyed about this situation would be a severe understatement. 

In an embarrassed panic, the woman quickly covered her naked breasts with her hands before awkwardly trying to put her clothes back on, clothes that were strewn all over on the floor. Meanwhile, Brett merely laid there on the bed, unconcerned of Uriel's presence—his junk proudly exposed for the world to see while wearing a shameless smirk on his face. 

“Hey, Uri. You’re back early,” Brett said, maintaining his smirk even as the woman hurried out of the room. 

Uriel merely sighed with a deadpan stare. “Not this again.”

“Hey, what can I say? The ladies around here love me.”

“You know, I don’t mind you having fun and all, but why does it have to be on my bed?”

Brett shrugged, grabbing a half-finished bottle of beer on the drawer next to him and drank from it. “You have the bottom bunk. Bottom bunks are more optimized for sex. It’s just common sense, dude. You try having sex on the top bunk? It’s nigh impossible. There’s hardly enough room up there. And also there’s the off-chance that one of us might fall off the bed if things get a little too…intense, if you catch my drift. Can’t have that kind of hazard when you’re doing the deed, know what I mean?”

With a heavy sense of exasperation, Uriel dropped his backpack onto the floor, placing it next to his desk. “Yeah, well, you can say goodbye to your days of casual sex because I’m prohibiting it.”

“Prohibiting it? Dude, you cannot prohibit love-making. That’s like…one of the amendments of the Constitution or something, if I remember correctly.” Brett switched to talking in a mocking serious tone for his next sentence. “Amendment number 69. Thou shalt not infringe on the people’s rights to get it on.” 

“I don’t mind you having sex, Brett,” Uriel said as he reached for a box of latex gloves from the drawer and took out a pair to wear on his hands. “I just don’t want you doing it on my fucking bed.”

While holding the beer, Brett then grabbed a half-lit joint from an ashtray nearby and smoked it, releasing a puff of smoke that filled the entire room with a heavy odor of marijuana. “Well, it'll be a lot easier if you’d just give me the bottom bunk.”

“Hey! I won the bottom bunk from that coin flip fair and square!”

“Then I demand a rematch. Or a retrial. Or whatever you call it. I believe I can make better use of the bottom bunk and is therefore more deserving of it.”

“Brett, get your fucking ass off the bed so I can clean the sheets.”

In a leisurely but reluctant manner, Brett got off the bed, allowing Uriel to remove the bedsheets with his gloved hands. As Uriel did so, he maintained a persistent and dissatisfied scowl at Brett. The same Brett who was still shamelessly naked, drinking a beer and smoking a joint after having sex just mere minutes ago. He is just living the life, isn't he?

“Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” Brett said. “Don’t be angry with me just because I’m chasing more tail than you.”

“That is not the issue here!” Uriel snapped.

“Sure it is. You’re just jealous of me cuz I’m having a more active sex life than you do.” Brett curled an arm around Uriel’s shoulder as though they’re the best of friends, even though they’re not. “Hey, you know, I can set you up with someone if you want. I know of a couple of gals who’ll be more than willing to go to town with a nerdy OCD neat freak like you.”

“I’m not interested in a quick hook-up, Brett. Geez!” Uriel shrugged Brett’s arm off his shoulder. After gathering the bedsheets in a bundle, Uriel proceeded to put it all in a laundry basket.

Brett chuckled. “Oh, I see. You’re one of those dudes who wants to save it up till marriage, am I right? Being from a super-religious family does do that to you, I suppose.”

“No, that’s got nothing to do with it.” Uriel hated Brett for bringing up his super-religious family. In fact, he hated that his super-religious family was even being brought up in the first place. Aside from his white hair, that’s the least favorite thing he liked to talk about. “And I’m not opposed to sex before marriage. It’s just…you know…I need to find the right girl first.”

“The right girl? What do you mean?” 

“You know, the right girl. Someone who you get to know more about. Someone who you have a deep personal connection with. Someone who you can respect as well as love. I’m not like you, Brett. I don’t go on a sampling spree when it comes to sex.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a sampling spree when it comes to sex. Plenty of people find joy in them.”

“Not saying that there is. I’m just saying that that’s not how I would’ve preferred it.”

Brett shook his head. “Oh, Uri, Uri, Uri. Sweet, pure, innocent Uriel. You know, you may want to wait for as long as you want for the ‘right girl’, but maybe there is no ‘right girl’ out there and you’re probably gonna die alone. Just letting you know.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Uriel picked up the laundry basket before proceeding to head out of the room. “Now if you excuse me, I need to get these sheets cleaned. For the second time in a week.”

Brett may be a charmer, but he’s also somewhat apologetic about the whole ordeal. “You know, I could help you with that if you want.”

“No, thank you. In fact, don’t you even think of coming anywhere near them,” Uriel warned with a death glare. “And put some goddamn clothes on!”

Brett merely shrugged. “Hey, if you can grow it, don’t be afraid to show it.”

Uriel was deep in thought as he watched his bedsheets tumble within the washing machine, the simple spiraling motion of the whole process almost mesmerizing to look at. While sitting quietly in the room and waiting for the laundry to be done, he contemplated on how he’d never gone out on a single date his entire life. He’s nearly 19 years old now and was almost done with his first year in college. And yet, he still hadn't gone out on a date with a girl before, while his roommate was sleeping with chicks left and right. He may have criticized Brett for his deviant devil-may-care attitude but, in all honesty, he was kind of jealous.

A large part of it might have been that he’s kind of an introvert, especially when it comes to talking to girls. Even the thought of asking a girl out on a date made his skin crawl and made his heart almost jump out of his chest. Sure, he may have gotten a bit better at tolerating social interaction as he grew older, but it wasn’t nearly enough to provide him with the courage for a good and proper love confession. Even though he believed what he said when he wanted to find the “right girl” and have a deep and meaningful relationship with her, part of him wondered if maybe it was just him trying to subconsciously hide his own insecurities. 

As he was in the middle of his deep contemplation, Brett walked into the laundry room, his beer bottle and lit joint still in his hands. He’s now wearing a pair of boxers to cover his nudity along with a pair of slippers, but that’s pretty much it.

“Hey, umm…by the way, just letting you know that there’s going to be a party at the lounge of Benedict dorm this Friday night,” Brett said. “You should come. It’s gonna be fun. Maybe you’ll even get to meet some girls there.”

Uriel merely scoffed. “Not interested. I’ve got finals coming up.”

“Dude, seriously?! All you do is study, study, study. At this point, you can probably pass the finals with your eyes closed.”

“Correction. I can probably pass the finals with my eyes closed, with one hand tied behind my back, and while riding a unicycle. But that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“It’s just…I’m not good with crowds, alright?” Uriel didn’t like admitting his weakness, but he figured an honest answer would at least keep this conversation short instead of having him beat around the bush. “I’m just not good with the whole socializing thing.”

“Well then, there’s no better way to practice than to go to that party, now is there?” Brett gave Uriel a light-hearted tap on the shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be fun. College is all about fun, you know. Not just studying. Learn to live a little. And who knows, maybe you’ll even meet the ‘right girl’ there. And when that happens, you’ll be sure to thank me later.”

Uriel rolled his eyes. “The ‘right girl’? At that party? Yeah, right.”

“You never know. But hey, no one’s forcing you to do anything, you know. If you really, really don’t want to go, that’s totally fine by me. All I'm saying is that the invitation is always open.”

And with that, Brett walked out of the laundry room, after which Uriel quietly resumed to blankly staring at the washing machine; the one that was cleaning his bedsheets with a spiraling motion. Gradually, he pondered on the decision to go to that party. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to check it out, even for just a little while. What’s the worst that can possibly happen?