Roy. Where do I begin to describe him? From the second I met him I knew that he was going to be weird, weird as in, he marched to the beat of a different drummer, a drummer whose beats at most times, I found myself following. The whole trip, Roy and I were designated best friends. Before the New Jersey trip, we hadn’t spoken in depth or talked about anything really important. At orientation, I grabbed the closest person next to me and it turned out to be Roy. I turned to him and said, “Roy, you’re going to be my best friend on this trip, ok?” he didn’t seem to be disturbed by this sudden order, and if he was, he hid his disturbance very well. One day, as we were talking in the van, I just came out and did a gesture, a gesture that would forever be the “handshake” that Roy and I would share. I pretended to lick my hand and pass it over his face. Nothing too great, I know, but this simultaneous motion would be what bonded us up till this day…two days after the trip came to its’ end. I consider Roy to be one of my very good friends. We both have our differences and our preferences, but in the end, we are two very similar people. I appreciate Roy’s position next to me at orientation, because if anyone else had been standing there, I’m sure my camping experience would have been very different.