Collin's gut told him to go to the Holiday Inn. He didn't know where Brandon lived, so really it was his only option, and he knew he had to hurry.

Without bothering to wait for any of his or Heather's friends, Collin ran down the block, past closed restaurants and storefronts: the burrito place, the surf shop. Dark windows bouncing back yellow reflections from the street lamps.

The Santa Cruz Cinema was still lit up as Collin rounded the corner to cut over towards the park and he vaguely wondered if he and Heather would ever go see that movie together. Knuckles brushing as they grabbed for popcorn, knees finding each other in the dark. But if he ever wanted that experience with her, he had to get to her and explain about the bet.

As he crossed Front street, he slowed down. Now that he was a block off the main strip of Pacific Avenue, there were fewer street lamps and hardly any people around. The only cars he could hear were in the distance. His footsteps echoed in his own ears and suddenly he felt tiny and very alone.

Instead of walking down the pedestrian alley behind the sushi restaurant and nail salon, Collin walked the extra few yards to go the other way around, through the parking lot, knowing that being in a more open space with better lighting was the smart choice.

Too many questions were running through his head. What if Brandon had taken Heather down that alley, and now he missed them? What if Brandon wasn't heading back to the Holiday Inn at all? Or what if Heather actually preferred Brandon to him?

Collin's phone vibrated. Without slowing down, he reached his hand into his pocket and took it out. Tom was calling him.

"Hey," Collin answered, his voice startlingly loud in the silent night air.

"Dude, where are you?" There was clattering and voices in the background.

"I'm trying to find Brandon and Heather. Are you still at the club?"

"We're outside." Then, someone else spoke, and Tom's muffled voice said, "Yeah, sure here."

"Collin?" someone who might have been Veronica said.

"Hey, yeah?"

"Are you with Heather?"

"No, they had disappeared by the time I got down here. I'm headed back to the Inn, but maybe they're not even going there. Where does the guy even live?"

"He also lives at the Inn," the girl who was probably Veronica answered.

"Where's his room?"

"Bottom floor. In the back. Near the gate. We're heading that way too, but it might be a few minutes..."

There was the sound of the phone changing hands again, and then Sam's voice came through the receiver. "Just hang up and go, dude. But remember, when you throw a punch, keep your thumb on the outside of your fingers so you don't break it."

"Got it." Collin rolled his eyes into the darkness. Sam had thrown just as many punches in her lifetime as he had: zero. "Bye." Collin hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket, and then he hurried onto the pedestrian bridge. The same bridge where he had run into Brandon before. The same bridge where Heather had compared his trans-ness to a river that needed to be crossed.

This time, however, he was alone, and he didn't see anyone.

How much of a head start did Brandon and Heather get? It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Definitely no more than ten. Wouldn't Collin have caught up to them by now? Especially with how drunk Heather seemed. Although there were several routes to get from the club back to the Holiday Inn. Maybe Collin was actually going to beat them.

Reaching the park, Collin hurried past the duck pond and the bocce ball courts until he reached the fence that ran around the periphery of the hotel's parking lot.

As he walked along the fence, he saw two figures making their way across the parking lot. From their silhouettes, one was stumbling and one was more sturdy on their feet. In the dim lighting, it was hard to be sure, but it had to be Brandon and Heather. And if Collin was going to make another bet, he'd wager that Brandon wasn't just being a good guy, helping to walk an inebriated girl home.

With a burst of adrenaline surging through his veins, Collin stepped onto the bottom rung of the steel fence, placed his hands on the top railing, and hauled himself up. He swung one knee over and then switched his hand positions so he could swing his other leg over and then jump down. He landed in a crouch on the other side. All that time at the gym was finally paying off.

"Hey!" Collin shouted as he stood up and then hustled towards the figures, who were approaching one of the ground floor doors.

The guy turned. It was Brandon, all right. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked.

"Collin?" Heather slurred.

"What do you think you're doing?" Collin asked, squaring his shoulders and his eyes boring into Brandon.

"I'm walking home. What does it look like, asshole?"

"It looks like you're taking advantage of a woman who's had too much to drink," Collin spit back.

"I'm not drunk," Heather said, although her words were so blended together that they were almost indecipherable.

Brandon shook his head and laughed. "Shit. I know who you are. You're that freak."

"That's not nice," Heather pushed Brandon's shoulder.

"I think she needs to sleep it off, buddy." Collin stepped forward, fists clenched.

"And I think you need to mind your own damn business."

For a short guy, Brandon sure had a lot of bravado. He reminded Collin of a Jack Russell Terrier. A little dog with the confidence of a big one.

Before Collin could respond, Heather stepped between them. "Why are you even here? You don't care about me."

"Heather," Collin pleaded. "Of course I care about you."

Brandon tried to push around Heather, and she toppled. Collin reached out to steady her.

"Hey," she looked at Brandon. "Watch it!"

Brandon shifted his attention from Collin to Heather. "Babe, my room's right here. Let's ditch this asshole."

"I'm not going anywhere," she shot back.

"Come on, you said you wanted me to show you a good time."

Collin planted his feet and raised his fist, ready to swing, when Heather suddenly lurched forward and puked all over Brandon's shoes. As Brandon jumped back, cursing, Collin caught Heather's shoulders. "Hey, you okay?" He tucked her hair back behind her ears.

"I think I need to go upstairs," she mumbled.

Brandon looked ready to blow his lid. "What the fuck you'd do that for, bitch?"

"What did you just call her?" said a new voice from behind Collin.

Collin turned and saw Tom, Sam, and the Onicas walking through the gate from the park into the lot. Perfect timing.

"She needs to get upstairs," Collin said.

Veronica and Monica both ran up to Heather. "Jesus, are you okay?"

Tom and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder with Collin. "What are we going to do about him?" Tom asked.

"Well, he called me a freak and Heather a bitch..." Collin shrugged.

"Want me to hold him and you guys take turns punching him?" Sam offered.

Brandon looked up, and despite the shadows, Collin could see the blood drain from the guy's face. He fumbled for his wallet, presumably to take out his keycard.

Tom took a step towards Brandon. Even without his Justin Timberlake puff of hair, he was a head taller than the creep. "You think that would teach him a lesson?"

"Worth a shot," Collin answered.

Quick as a rat scurrying for cover, Brandon turned and inserted his keycard into the card reader. It beeped green, and he shouldered the door open. Collin was about to lunge after him, but Sam grabbed his shoulder. "Not worth it," she said. "Let's report him to campus housing and get him evicted."

"It's almost summer, anyway," Collin replied. "Everyone will have to move out soon."

She shrugged. "It will still go on his record, and if he applied for housing for next year, he won't get it."

The three of them turned away from the closed door and walked towards the pool of light in the stairwell. "I should at least say goodbye," Collin said.

"We'll wait here," said Tom. "Walk home together."

With a nod, Collin walked up the stairs and down the passageway to Heather and Veronica's room. The door was open a crack, and he saw the Onicas taking care of their friend, giving her a washcloth and getting her water. "Can I help?" he asked, peeking his head in.

Monica looked over at him. "No, but thanks for tonight. We know you care about her."

"I just wish she knew." He felt like shit. "Do you think you can ask her to call me tomorrow? When she's up for it?"

"Sure," Monica answered.

"And actually..." Collin reached into his pocket and took out what he had grabbed from his desk drawer before going out: the roller coaster picture from the previous week. "Can you give this to her? Tell her I look at it every night to remind me that while falling for someone new can be scary, it's also exhilarating."

Then he turned and walked back to meet up with his friends to go home. All he could do was hope that his message would be passed along. He'd definitely remember to charge his phone and keep the ringer on, ready to answer whenever Heather was ready to call.