I opened the door and went into our room. It was a typical boys' room: dirty boxers here and there, unwashed plates by a corner, wallpapers of footballers and rappers on the wall and a nauseating stench of spoilt rice, Stanley's rice. I disposed the rice first before sitting on my bed.Then I remembered my wallet, especially my money.I had to buy some materials I needed the following day.I knew I couldn't borrow from my roommates because they were as penniless as me.But I loved them, all of them.There was Stanley, a 19-year old Igbo boy but contrary to the believe of most people that Igbos were tough to deal with, Stanley was really cool.He wasn't very intelligent but he tries his best and never cheats.He was in the department of biological science studying microbiology.To him, all that was important was to get at least a second class lower.His father was a business man and Stanley will take over from him someday not that it was a big business though.But what Stanley lacked in brain power he made up for in good looks.I am very handsome but I always catch myself starring at Stanley and just saying"wow". He was tall, muscular and light skinned.Big brown eyes and pink, almost blood red lips much pinker than mine.He received cards and love letters daily from women and men as well.But he was shy so he turned all of them down but that didn't stop the flow of cards and gifts.The other was Jamal or you can call him Calculator. The ease with which he solved maths questions was captivating.It was said that he wrote WAEC without a calculator!! although he claims it's not true.He was a Muslim but we still got along well although he was still a bit cryptic.No one in the whole department of Mathematical sciences could rival Jamal and I always gave thanks because he hated medicine, he would have easily been the best