Heather laughed and pushed him playfully. "You are such a cornball! Let's get another drink. Want to do Long Islands?"

He knew he would regret it the next day, but he nodded. "Let's get druuuunk."

Veronica and Monica had faded into the throng of dancers, so when Collin caught the attention of the bartender, he ordered and paid for Long Island ice teas for just him and Heather. Four shots of different alcohols mixed into one deceptively smooth drink.

Heather sipped her beverage through the tiny red cocktail straw; Collin drank directly from the lip of the tall skinny glass. There was nowhere to sit, nowhere to stand. They were at the mercy of the tide of people, which pushed and pulled them together. But they both imbibed quickly, and as the alcohol seeped into Collin's bloodstream, it was easier to go with the flow.

They placed their empty glasses on a tall round table that was pushed against one wall. Several other people had abandoned their glasses there, too. The discarded containers of bravado: melting ice, chewed on straws, and forgotten garnishes.

With their hands empty again, their bodies moved more freely. As Shakira's Whenever, Whenever started playing, Heather lifted her head and looked up at the ceiling. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back like a lava flow. With his eyes, Collin traced the line from the tip of her chin, down her throat, and to the supple shadow between her breasts. His mouth watered, and he desperately wanted to nuzzle her neck. To taste her sweat and feel the length of her against his body.

Collin hadn't been this drunk in a long time, and he could feel his mind surrendering to the urges of his body. He closed some of the distance between them, his lips mere inches from her shoulder, his hand grazing against her forearm.

As she swayed her shoulders with the music, her head lowered, and their eyes met. "You're a good dancer," she told him, and he could smell notes of rum and tequila on her breath.

"Thanks, so are you." His lips brushed against her ear, the glint of her piercings kissed the corner of his mouth.

He was lost in the movement of her body, and the haze of alcohol numbed all thoughts. If only he could live in the infinity of this moment.

Too soon, however, Veronica and Monica reappeared. Heather stepped back, opening a space for her friends, and they began dancing as individuals in a group, rather than two people moving in sync.

"Better watch out. I saw Brandon here," Veronica shouted towards Heather.

Monica nodded. "He was over there."

Heather rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, but kept dancing. She seemed distracted and kept looking over her shoulder. "Shit! I think he's coming this way." She grabbed Collin's wrist. "Dance closer to me."

He obeyed, but in his drunken stupor, he was having a hard time following along with what was happening. "Why? What's wrong?"

"It's this guy I went out with a few times, and now he won't leave me alone." Heather put her hands on Collin's shoulders and danced against him, sending heat waves down his abdomen. "Maybe he'll think we're on a date and will finally fuck off."

With her words ringing in his ears, Collin placed his hands on her hips. Hadn't this been a date? Had he imagined the tension building between them?

She had never acknowledged his comment about being trans. Was that going to keep him in the friend zone?

The songs changed. More drinks ordered. They kept dancing. Veronica and Monica bumped into two guys they knew from their on-campus days and disappeared again. Collin tried to shake the feeling that he had misread every interaction between them, but when he looked at Heather, he couldn't help wondering how she saw him.

Was he man enough?

It was stupid to make that bet with Tom. Lesbians didn't want to date him, but neither did straight girls.

More time must have passed than Collin realized, because suddenly the DJ was talking over the music to announce last call.

"I didn't realize how late it was," he said.

"Oh my God, me either. Have you seen Veronica or Monica?"

"No." He shook his head.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her Nokia. "They texted a while ago. I guess they left."

"It would be my pleasure to walk you home." Collin mimicked doffing his cap and then gestured for her to walk down the stairs ahead of him.

The quickest way to get to the Holiday Inn involved cutting through the CVS parking lot, taking the pedestrian bridge across the river, and then walking past the duck pond in San Lorenzo Park. Collin had seen several sketchy things late at night when he lived there, and there was no way he was going to let Heather make the walk alone.

"That's silly, you don't have to," she protested, and then slipped on the final stair.

Collin grabbed her elbow to steady her.

"Thanks." She smiled sheepishly.

"Anytime," he said.

They stepped out into the cool night air, and Collin regretted not bringing a jacket. The alcohol made him impervious to the cold, but it would have been a smooth move to have a jacket to drape over her bare shoulders.

The night sky was clear and several constellations were visible–far more stars than the city sky he had grown up under–and, not for the first time, he wished he knew how to read the night sky. He knew Greek mythology and could tell you the epic love story of Perseus and Andromeda, but find the stars that the gods placed in the sky to remember them by? Clueless.

"What are you thinking about?" Heather asked as they walked across the empty parking lot.

"Just how beautiful the night sky is."

"Do you see Jupiter?" She pointed.

Collin looked towards the bright star she pointed to. "Over there?"

"Yes. And..." she paused and looked around. "There's the Big Dipper, of course."

"Where?"

She stepped closer to him, their faces almost touching, and pointed toward the sky. "See how those stars form a handle, and there's the cup?"

"How do you know so much about the stars?"

"I like science." She laughed. "And I grew up in the valley, in some shit little town. Had hardly any light pollution. Not like here."

They continued walking, and Collin realized how little he actually knew about her, and how there was so much more he wanted to know.

He was so lost in thought as they crossed the street that he almost forgot they were about to walk through a park in the middle of the night. But then he saw a back-lit figure leaning against the lamp at the end of the pedestrian bridge, and Collin froze.

Heather grabbed his arm. He straightened his back and puffed out his chest.

The figure stood and approached them. "Heather, I just want to talk."

Collin looked at the guy–who was about his height, with a slim build, and his ginger hair buzzed short–and then looked back at Heather.

"Jesus Christ, Brandon! You scared me half to death!" she screamed, still holding his arm.

"This is the guy your friends saw at the bar?" Collin asked, his eyes not wavering from the approaching stranger.

"Yes."

"Come on, Heather," the guy slurred.

Collin stepped forward, blocking Heather. "Hey buddy, she just wants to get home."

"Heather!" He ignored Collin and tried to step around him, but Collin moved protectively, keeping himself between Heather and this creep.

"I think you need to take a walk. Go grab a bite to eat at the Santa Cruz Diner and sober up," Collin said in his deepest voice.

Finally, Brandon looked at him. "And who are you?"

"Doesn't matter who I am," Collin responded, adrenaline and alcohol fueling a rush of bravery.

"Come on, Heather. Really?" Brandon pushed Collin's shoulder, but Collin flowed with the movement, not giving any resistance, and Brandon stumbled forward, off balance.

Collin's fist balled, and he was moments away from throwing his first-ever punch when Heather tugged on his arm.

"Let's get out of here," she insisted.

They hurriedly walked across the rest of the park, Collin glancing over his shoulder to make sure Brandon wasn't following them, until they reached the gate surrounding the Holiday Inn parking lot.

He walked Heather to her room, which was on the second floor, on the opposite side of the building from where he had Sam had lived the previous year. For a moment they stood awkwardly outside of her door, Collin debating whether to lean in for a kiss. No longer sure if he wanted to kiss her because of the bet or because he genuinely wanted to kiss her.

But Heather broke the moment before he had decided what to do. "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course."

"I–I'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but I've never met a trans person before. But you're pretty cool."

Collin felt a blush paint across his face and up his ears. If he'd had less to drink, or it was earlier in the night, maybe he would've had a retort. Something clever. Something to erase the awkwardness he suddenly felt. But he just stood there, silent.

"And, thanks for walking me home and helping with Brandon. I'm glad we're becoming friends."

Friends. The word echoed in his mind.

"Me too," he said, trying to paste on a convincing smile.

After she closed the door, Collin walked home. He took the long way, sticking to the main roads and avoiding the park. The word "friend" bouncing around inside his mind like a pinball.

A half hour later, Collin walked down his block and opened his front door.

Even though it was after two in the morning, the lights were still on in the living room. And, as he walked up the stairs, he heard a familiar voice.

Too familiar.

He reached the top landing and turned to the living room. His ears had not deceived him. All the blood left his head and his fingers tingled. What was she doing here?

Avery was sitting on the orange couch, which faced away from the stairs, and Sam was sitting on the floor opposite her. "I just don't know," Avery was saying.

Sam looked up at Collin, and their eyes met. She rolled them and shook her head. Avery, who hadn't heard him, was cradling her head in her hands, but Collin couldn't tell if she was crying.

And he didn't care.

She should not be here. And he didn't know who he blamed more: Avery or Sam.

Seething, he tiptoed down the hall and closed the door to his room as quietly as he could. Someone would have to explain themselves in the morning.