"My birthday's next weekend."

Melanie looked up from my latest quiz and smiled. "That's exciting," she said, lowering her pen while she studied me. She tapped the tip of the ballpoint against the table. "What day?"

"The twenty-fourth."

"Are you doing anything fun to celebrate?"

"Nothing too special," I admitted, resting my forearms on the table. "Probably grabbing drinks with some of the guys."

"Well, that's always a good time, right?"

I nodded. I couldn't pinpoint what it was but ever since the night that I'd run into her and Parker, Melanie had seemed a little off. Distant, maybe a little cold. Whatever it was, our once fast flowing friendship felt like it had stopped in its tracks and I didn't really understand why. What I did know was that I suddenly found myself counting the number of times that she laughed at my jokes and despairing whenever she responded with a blank stare. One of the things I'd learned since starting my sessions with Fersan was that I was a people pleaser and nothing killed me more than the feeling of being rejected.

The shift in our relationship had been subtle at first. Melanie started staying late in the library after our tutoring sessions ended, swearing up and down that she'd driven to campus and didn't need me to walk her back to her apartment. I couldn't really say anything in response to that so I began making the journey home alone. On the one hand, avoiding the detour to her complex definitely cut down on the time it took me to get back to my place but, on the other, it also meant that I rarely talked to her about anything other than schoolwork anymore. 

If I was being honest with myself, the truth was that my reasons for wanting to talk to her were largely selfish. There were some things that just felt more natural to share with a girl rather than the guys back at the house, even if the latter made up my core group of friends. Even though I'd only known her for a few months, Melanie never ribbed me for being whipped or made fun of the insecurities that I divulged; she was like a younger, prettier version of Dr. Fersan, minus the dancing eyebrows and psychology degree.

Granted, if the only thing that changed between us had been Melanie's decision to drive home rather than walk with me, I probably wouldn't have noticed that anything was wrong. But, after nearly a month of texting each other between tutoring sessions, including late at night and over weekends, I couldn't ignore the fact that my messages now went largely unanswered. I told myself that she was busy with her own assignments but deep down I knew that I must've done something to warrant her newfound behavior. I racked my brain to figure out what it was but came up blank. Not even Parker could give me an explanation when I asked him. Instead, he just shrugged and said, "She probably got tired of listening to you whine."

He was joking, I think, but that actually made the most sense. In hindsight, I had dumped a lot on her pretty quickly. When I thought about some of the things I'd told her, I sometimes found myself feeling incredibly embarrassed. Although she'd never been judgmental when she gave me advice, I still felt like I'd torn up my Man Card in front of her and handed her the shredded pieces. I liked to act as if I didn't care whether or not she thought I was lame but I did. I really did. 

I risked a glance at her. Melanie was still smiling at me, so I took a deep breath and said, "You should come out with us, if you want."

When Melanie opened her mouth to respond, I quickly added, "Don't worry, it won't be like a frat party or anything. We'll probably grab dinner at the Japanese steakhouse downtown and then go barhopping."

"Is Sophie going?" Melanie asked, rolling up the sleeves of her dark green sweater.

"I don't think so," I admitted. "My friends originally wanted it to be a guys' night out so Parker didn't ask her."

"I see." She pursed her lips together, considering my invitation. "You do know I'm not a boy, right?" Melanie eventually teased.

"No--I mean, obviously, I just... I thought it'd be fun if you were there."

"Of course it would." Feigning haughtiness, she frowned as she looked at the light blue polish that coated her nails. "A lifetime of private education taught me how to handle a beer or two."

"Great, so you're coming?"

Melanie shook her head. "Actually, I'm not sure. I have a feeling that it'd be a little awkward for me to be the only girl there." An apologetic look crossed Melanie's face and I suppressed a twinge of disappointment. "I'm sorry, but I'll make it up to you. Next week there'll be a cupcake waiting for you on the table when you walk in. Promise."

I nodded, unable to shake the feeling that she would've said yes a few weeks ago. "Don't worry about it," I said after a moment. I cleared my throat, forcing a chuckle. "You know, I doubt I'd be doing anything at all if Andy and Carlos--uh, two of my friends-- hadn't taken the lead in planning something for me."

"Really?"

"I don't like making a big deal out of my birthday," I admitted, thinking of all the parties my dad had missed during my childhood because he'd been working. Then, I thought about all of the presents Michael had stolen before I'd even managed to get the wrapping paper off. "Being the center of attention makes me feel a little uncomfortable."

"Same," Melanie replied. When I raised an eyebrow, she nodded as if to confirm that she was telling the truth. "I actually got my acceptance letter to L.A.U. on my birthday this past year."

"Yeah?"

"Parker and Michael took me to dinner but I don't think either of them knew."

"You really must not care about your birthday if you spent it with Michael."

Melanie turned a page in her notebook before replying gently, "Your brother's not that bad of a guy."

"You would say that," I grumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not going to treat a girl like shit, is he?"

"He might."

"Yeah, but not you."

Although a charming pink blush spread across Melanie's cheeks in response to my words, I felt like my own face was on fire. I knew that even though I'd meant the words innocently enough, it still sounded like I was hitting on her. Before I could come up with a way to backtrack from what I'd said, Melanie mused, "He called me Melissa for months."

"Did he really?"

"Usually in between yelling at me to fix the photocopier or make coffee for clients."

"And yet, you still like him." I shook my head. "You and Parker, man. I don't get either of you."

Melanie made a thoughtful sound before doodling a spiral in the corner of a piece of scratch paper. "Your brother and I actually have a lot in common. Personality-wise, I mean."

"No, you don't. Like what?"

I watched Melanie's pen fly in a curving motion until she stopped and picked up the sheet. She studied her work for a moment before crumpling the page in her hand. She lobbed it towards the garbage bin next to the door and pretended to cheer when it sailed in.

"Like what?" I asked again after it became clear that Melanie planned on ignoring my question.

"We're both blunt," she said without meeting my eye.

"So are a lot of people."

"We're competitive... And we're both good at adapting. Like chameleons."

I frowned. "What does that even mean?"

Rather than answering, Melanie stuck her tongue out twice in rapid succession as if pretending to catch a fly. After a moment, she reached for my quiz again and resumed going over my answers. I could hear each stroke that her pen made against the page as she wrote out comments and underlined parts of my answers. The stillness in the room made me feel uncomfortable. Shifting in my seat, I mumbled, "You're nothing like Michael."

I couldn't say who I was trying to convince--Melanie or myself--but either way, she simply drew her lips into a lopsided grin and nodded.

-------------------------------------------------------

When I left the library that day, I struggled to wrap my head around the strange conversation that Melanie and I had. Even though she didn't bring Michael up again, I couldn't shake the picture of my brother's head attached to a lizard's body while his skin color changed in a kaleidoscope of hues. To be fair, imagining Michael as a reptile wasn't all that far off from the mental image that I already had of him but the more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed that Melanie had even compared herself to him at all. If anything, she was like a Golden Retriever, or one of those foxes with the gigantic ears. 

Realizing that I'd run out of any shirts that even came close to being clean, I made my way up to my room once I got back to the house and gathered as many piles of clothing from the floor that I could fit into my hamper. As I dragged the overloaded basket down the hallway to the laundry room, I heard chatter fill the downstairs while the other live-in members crowded around the dining tables for dinner. Although pledges were encouraged to come for meals at the house, it was somewhat rare to see very many of them during the week outside of the fraternity's mandatory weekly chapter dinner. Most of the freshmen had dormitory dining plans to eat their way through by the end of the semester, which explained why the pledges who did show up were typically sophomores and juniors who didn't want to do their own grocery shopping. 

I waited until my laundry was halfway through the drying cycle before braving the mayhem one floor below. As usual, the dining room had descended into rowdy chaos as many of my friends started drinking early in anticipation of our regular Thursday night party. Picking up a plate from the start of the buffet table line, I reached for a set of tongs and then prodded one of the previously passed over pieces of chicken that our chef had put out earlier in the evening. Although no one really cared enough to complain, the cooks who worked for us seemed to struggle with setting the ovens to the right temperature. For the second time in two days, the meat they'd served resembled charcoal.

"Dammit, Donahue," came Phil's voice from behind me, "just pick one already."

"Hold on," I muttered, flipping a slightly burnt piece before pushing it away. Phil made an impatient noise, which only made me want to move slower. "How was your day, Phillip? Make any new friends while you were at school?"

"Man, hurry up," he whined, and I half-expected him to start stomping his feet. "I have class at seven-thirty and I haven't done the homework for it yet."

"Just a second." There it is... Perfectly cooked and seemingly well-seasoned, I reached for a chicken breast that had been hidden in a corner of the serving dish. Carefully securing it with the metal tongs, I lifted it towards my plate--only to watch Phil's hand dart out and snatch it away. A sliver of skin had been left behind on the pincers and I stared at it in disbelief.

"Hey!" I protested, but Phil only cackled as he stepped around me to get to the side dishes further down the line.

Wiping his greasy fingers onto the leg of his pants, he said, "Told you to speed it up."

I watched him spoon two massive heaps of mashed potatoes onto his plate before I turned my attention back to the remaining cuts. Resigned to accepting one of the overcooked pieces that Phil had left for me to choose from, I picked the one I'd initially jabbed at before finally moving on. I knew that I wouldn't be able to make it through more than a few bites of the dry chicken on its own so I followed Phil's lead and filled most of my plate with potatoes and salad. I grabbed a fork from the utensil tray and despite his hostile maneuver against my dinner just moments before, Phil nodded for me to sit down in the empty seat beside him.

I glanced around. The temperature in the dining room was stifling thanks to the mass of bodies happily crowded around the various tables. My heart quickened when a group of younger members sitting across from Phil erupted into roars of laughter over a video they were watching on a phone screen. I took a deep breath, hesitating before ultimately deciding that I didn't really feel like making small talk.

Nor did I feel like being there at all.

I shook my head once before dashing through the door to the main foyer, the chicken on my plate nearly taking flight as I turned a corner.

Phil called after me, "Didn't know you could move that fast, Scotty!"

When I stepped inside my room again, I shoveled the food down before adding the mostly clean plate to the collection that already lived on top of my dresser. Every so often, guys in the house would ask me why I rarely ate in the dining room with everyone else and the truth was that being squashed at a table with two people on either side made me feel claustrophobic in the worst possible way. I never told them that, though, and to shut down any further questions, I usually said that I called my parents over dinner. One look at my phone's call history would prove that excuse was a lie, but thankfully no one ever cared enough to verify anything that I said. 

I took a moment to collect myself before completing the quick loop to the dryer and back. The clothes in my hamper were still warm and I held a shirt to my face while I breathed in the scent of the detergent that I'd stolen from the fraternity's cleaning supply closet. The pictures on the front of the detergent bottle promised that my clothing would smell like a spring day, though I wasn't entirely sure if that was actually possible. Either way, it made my clothes smell a hell of a lot better than the cologne I'd been spraying on them to hide the fact that most of them had already been worn. Once my nostrils had their fill, I dumped my laundry out onto my bed and wondered why I hadn't thrown my sheets in the wash with everything else.

"So, what's the plan for your birthday?"

Startled, I looked up to see Parker leaning against my bedroom's door frame. He still had his backpack on and I guessed that he must've just come back from an evening class or the library. I moved a pile of boxers from the foot of the bed before motioning for him to come in. He settled into the space I'd cleared while I began absentmindedly matching my socks.

"Dinner at a hibachi place and drinks," I said for the second time that day. "Unless you guys want to trek out to Hollywood."

Parker waved the suggestion away with his hand. "Downtown's cool with me."

Despite his vote for the nearby bar scene, I could sense that Parker was anxious about something. "What?" I asked, and Parker lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck.

"We're not going to a strip club or anything, are we?" He paused and then added, "I mean, you can, of course, but I wanted to let you know ahead of time that I won't be able to go."

"Sophie's reining you in, huh?"

"No, not at all." Parker chewed on his thumbnail for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows. "Actually, she said she didn't care if I wanted to go, which was a little... Weird."

"Seriously? You think she's testing you?" I asked, and Parker shrugged.

"Have you met Sophie? If she had a problem with it, she'd tell me." Parker tore off a sliver of the nail that he'd been working on and gnawed on it methodically. "I don't know, I guess I'd feel kind of weird about it, that's all. I don't want to bail on you either, but--"

"No, that's fair," I said, cutting him off. A glimmer of relief crossed Parker's face. 

"You sure?"

"Of course. Besides," I said, searching through the laundry pile for the sock that matched the one I held, "what makes you think I want to go to a strip club, anyway?"

"Carlos said--"

I rolled my eyes. "Never mind, I get it."

"What?"

"I don't know, I guess he thinks it's funny that I've never been to one before--"

"You haven't?" Parker sounded shocked, though I couldn't tell if that was because he'd assumed I had or didn't believe that I hadn't.

"No," I admitted, tossing my socks to one side. "Have you?"

He didn't answer, instead getting up to examine the stack of books on my desk. He flipped through the pages of the one on top. "The restaurant is cash only, right?"

I eyed him curiously. Considering the fact that we spent nearly all of our free time together during the first two years of college, I could only guess as to when he'd snuck off to one of the city's many gentlemen's clubs. Honestly, what surprised me more than learning that he'd been to one was that I'd never heard about it--or been invited, for that matter. 

 "Yeah, it sucks," I replied. "But it's the only place that would take a reservation for a Saturday night."

"Who else is coming?" he asked. "Carlos, Andy, me, and...?"

I lifted my hand to tick names off with my fingers. "I invited most of our pledge class but, other than you three, the only definites at the moment are Mattie, Corey, and Lucas. Phil said he might come out for drinks."

I expected Parker to weigh in on his feelings about Phil's possible appearance, but instead he asked, "You invited a pledge?"

"Is that weird?"

Parker picked up a sand dollar that I kept on my window sill and balanced it on his palm. "No, he's a cool guy. Is he twenty-one, though?"

"He has a fake," I said, trying to ignore the misgivings I felt about a starting football player potentially getting busted for underage drinking and identity fraud. Luke claimed that he'd never had a problem getting into clubs with his cousin's I.D. but knowing my luck, my birthday party would be the first time that it didn't work. I could already picture the campus newspaper's headline: The Illicit Lives of Athletes and Frat Boys.

Although I could tell that Parker shared my worries, he simply nodded rather than lapsing into his paranoid presidential mode. "Did you invite Michael?"

"Yup."

"Is he coming?"

"He said he's got some sort of work event to go to," I said, abandoning my folding efforts. I gathered the remaining clothes into my arms and walked over to my dresser. I shoved my shirts and jeans in wherever I found space before struggling to shut the drawers again. Although I would deny it until I turned blue in the face, I was secretly a little bummed that Michael wouldn't be coming along. Our birthdays had always been one of the few times during the year when we called a truce and actually acted, well, like brothers.

"Lame." Parker set my sand dollar back down before bending down to tie his shoes. "Melanie said you asked her to come, too."

"Yeah, but I guess she doesn't want to be the only girl, or whatever."

"Makes sense." Without looking up at me, Parker added, "Did you tell her that Gemma isn't going either?"

"No, why?"

Parker shook his head. "No reason. Just curious."

"Hey," I said, grabbing a hoodie from the floor and pulling it on, "are you sure Melanie isn't pissed at me about something?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything, I guess."

"Nah," Parker replied. He straightened, stretching his arms above his head. "She's not."

"Are you sure? She's been pretty frosty recently. She said something weird today, too."

"What?"

"I don't know, something about lizards."

Although I might have been imagining things, I could've sworn that Parker gave me a dirty look. "I think she's stressed about her workload, to be honest. Her preliminary thesis proposal is coming up next month. Plus," he continued, "she's got some personal stuff going on."

"What kind of personal stuff?"

"The personal kind," Parker said, shutting down any possibility that he'd divulge the true inner workings of her mind. He paused, clearly having some kind of internal debate, before adding, "I guess she's a little bummed because the guy she likes isn't into her but she's mainly worried about a family issue."

I couldn't deny it; I was painfully nosy. The pieces of the puzzle that Parker was offering left me chomping at the bit for more. "And that issue is..."

"Ask her yourself." Parker slapped me on the back of the head as he started for the door. "You're friends, right? Or, does therapy hour only work in one direction?" 

"Can't you just tell me?" I asked, gingerly rubbing the spot he'd hit.

"Not my place." He glanced around my room before letting his gaze rest on me. "But she'd probably tell you if you ask her what's going on. I doubt she'd mind getting everything off her chest."  

-----------------------------

A/N: In honor of Snowmageddon 2016 causing my class to be cancelled today, here's an update! I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter looks like it will be a long one and I'm hopeful that I can get it up by Tuesday. As always, thank you to everyone for reading! Your thoughts and votes are always appreciated. (Please let me know if you catch any typos, too; I've been a little sick so they're bound to happen.) Also, to everyone affected by Storm Jonas, stay safe and warm. :) 

PS: My phone is currently sitting in a bag of rice, which is why I've been even slower than usual in responding to comments. Lo siento. :/ #RIPiPhone