Sometimes I really wondered how Parker did it.

Between his duties as president, his major, and attending black tie galas with Sophie, I couldn't understand how he also found the time to dash off to his internship and work a part-time job on campus. Honestly, I didn't even want to know where he got the energy to drag himself to all of the house's parties on top of everything else. But, if Parker was tired, he certainly hid it well--at the very least, I never heard him complain about his workload other than to lament that there weren't more hours in the day.

Part of me suspected that he was a robot. Either that, or he'd built a time machine and hadn't bothered telling anyone about it. In fact, the more I thought about Parker's schedule, the more confident I became in my belief that he had a flux capacitor hiding somewhere in his room. It was the only explanation that made sense; no ordinary human could do what he did on a daily basis.

There was just no way.

What impressed me the most, though, was that he always found a spare hour or two during the week to grab dinner with me. I knew he felt guilty for the slight distance that had developed between us while he was working last year, but if he'd asked, I would've told him not to worry about it. I personally didn't think our friendship was strained at all but I could tell that Parker felt out of the loop whenever the other guys joked with me about events he'd missed. Although I tried my best to fill him in on the important stuff, we both knew that it would've been impossible to recap every stupid thing that our friends had done while he was pushing papers in my brother's office.

It had actually hit me sometime during the spring that it was really hard to keep in touch with someone you didn't see everyday. Even though I'd known Parker for almost twenty years, I sometimes wondered how close we'd be after graduation--how close I'd be with any of the people that I called my friends now.

It was a sobering thought, but tonight I had no interest in thinking about the future. Parker had picked me up after my last class and driven us to our favorite neighborhood pizza place. A cozy hole in the wall that boasted discounts for students, we'd eaten our way through quite a few of Vito's deep dish pies since discovering the restaurant as freshmen.

Leaning my forearms against the red and white checkered tablecloth, I watched while Parker wolfed down his third slice of pepperoni, the grease from the cheese leaving a tinted sheen around his mouth. He frowned as he chewed, swallowing quickly. "Stop watching me eat."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, you are." Parker reached for another piece. "It's killing my appetite."

I laughed and passed him the shaker filled with parmesan. "I don't buy that for a second."

Parker had always been able to eat like a wolverine without gaining any weight and, frankly, it kind of pissed me off. I'd tried to keep up with him for a while in middle school, partially convinced at the time that his eating habits had prompted the growth spurt that sent him rocketing past six-foot in eighth grade. I ate everything that he ate--maybe even more--in my never ending quest to grow until, one day, Michael pointed out that my stomach was the only thing getting bigger.

Since then, I'd learned to pace myself whenever I went out to eat with Parker, though that usually meant I spent most of my time waiting for him to finish. I'd also come to accept that, at just under five-eleven, I wasn't going to play for the NBA, though I found some comfort in the fact that I'd never lost a game of H-O-R-S-E to my much taller best friend.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Parker glanced up from his plate to meet my eye. "How's kinesiology going?"

I pulled my empty glass towards me and rested my chin against its rim. "How do you think?"

Parker shrugged. "You tell me." When I didn't respond, he continued, "Melanie mentioned that she went over a quiz with you last week."

"Yeah, she did." I lifted my head and took a sip of melted ice water, wishing I hadn't turned down the waiter's offer to refill my drink. "She's nice."

"Did it help?"

"I guess." I tore at a piece of crust on my plate, amazed by how much oil seeped out. I wiped my fingers on my jeans. "I just really hate science, you know? We're doing a unit on metabolism right now, and... I mean, it'd be one thing if all I had to do was learn the equations, but on top of that, I also need to memorize all these screwy terms."

"I feel you," Parker said. He smiled sympathetically. "If it makes you feel any better, the first draft of my screenplay got annihilated during the peer review session of my Directing and Production class."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely destroyed." Parker paused and I could see the internal debate play out on his face while he tried to decide whether or not to take the last piece of pizza.

As if waiting for my approval, he hesitated until I said, "I don't want any more. Go for it."

"You sure?"

In the time it took me to say "yes," Parker had already inhaled most of the slice, obviously unconcerned that I might change my mind. I shook my head, unsure if I was in awe of or disgusted by the amount he'd eaten. "Don't worry," he said, covering his mouth as he spoke. "I'll cover the bill."

"You don't have to--"

"Don't be stupid." Parker fished a twenty from his wallet. "Unless you really want me to work out how much you owe per slice."

"I'll get you next time," I promised. "So, what happened with your screenplay?"

Parker made a face. "Nothing, really. Our first assignment was to write a script for a sixty-second commercial."

"And?"

"And," Parker replied with a long sigh, "my idea was apparently both overly complicated and painfully contrived."

"People actually said that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Sure did."

"Wow, that's crazy." I shook my head, unable to imagine having my work publicly torn apart by my classmates. Although most of my business professors made us give feedback after group presentations, I'd always been lucky enough to come out of those relatively unscathed. "I'd hate that."

Parker smiled. "It's actually okay," he said. "I mean, it sucks, but I'd rather mess up and take the criticism now than when I'm trying to sell a script for real."

I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to keep up with Parker's life plans. "I'm confused, I thought you were looking at engineering jobs again."

"Yeah, I am." Parker hunched his shoulders up to his ears. "But I don't know, I can't decide. I swore to my dad that I'd apply to a couple positions at engineering firms but I also told Sophie that I'd look at production internships so I can stick around L.A. next summer."

"Which one would you rather do?" I asked, remembering a time when all Parker wanted to do was work in the film industry.

"No idea." Using his fork, Parker fished a piece of ice from his glass and popped it into his mouth. I cringed at sound of his molars grinding the frozen cube down to nothing. "Both are a gamble so I'll wait to see what happens before trying to make up my mind."

"Roll of the dice," I murmured.

"You've got it." Parker waved at our waiter as he passed by. "Could we get the check, please?"

The man serving us pulled our bill from his waist apron's pocket and set it on the table between us. "Was everything alright?" he asked, as Parker placed his money on top of the check and handed both back to him.

"Great, thanks," we answered in unison.

"Let me get these plates out of the way for you and then I'll be right back with your change--"

"Don't worry about it," Parker said, pulling his keys from his back pocket. Our waiter's face broke into a toothy grin.

"I really appreciate it," he said, and I offered him a polite smile as he reached over me to clear our table.

"Big spender, huh?" I teased Parker once the man was out of earshot. He held his hands up in surrender while he scooted over to slide out of the booth. I followed suit as he got to his feet.

"Hey, just trying to be nice," he said. "They're having a slow day."

It was true. The normally bustling restaurant had only seen three patrons besides us since we arrived, and one of them had only ordered a starter. I watched Parker twirl his key ring around his finger before looking at me and adding, "Besides, now that my dad's working full-time again, my parents have started sending me my old monthly allowance."

"How much?" I asked, slightly jealous that my family had never been nearly as generous as Parker's. Although my dad's salary meant that my parents could afford to help me out from time to time, I'd never particularly enjoyed calling them to ask for cash. It was awkward, and over the summer I'd started pulling money from my savings account just to avoid having to listen to them lecture me. It would've been nice to have more wiggle room in my budget but nothing short of a grand was worth listening to my dad rant about my study habits, or Gemma... Or anything, for that matter.

The corner of Parker's mouth twitched. "Enough," he said, and then promptly changed the subject. "You coming back to the house? Or, do you want me to drop you off somewhere else?"

"The house is fine," I replied, trying to guess what 'enough' meant. Whatever it was, I knew that the figure supplemented the two paychecks that Parker was earning. Suddenly, I felt a little less guilty that he'd picked up the tab.

"Alright."

Parker held the door for me as we stepped outside and the hostess called after us to say that she hoped to see us again. It was a nice gesture, especially because she'd almost always been the one to seat us over the last four years. We made our way to Parker's SUV without talking and I tugged at the front passenger's side handle as soon as I heard the doors unlock.

"What's Gemma up to tonight?" Parker asked once he'd climbed into his seat. Avoiding his gaze, I fumbled with my seatbelt and then stared out the front window.

"Don't know," I said honestly. "Protesting something, probably."

Laughing, Parker turned the key to start the car's ignition. A series of lights danced on the dashboard's control panel before fading to black. "She's really passionate about saving the world, huh?"

"That's one way to put it."

"I think it's great," Parker went on, hugging the back of my seat with his right arm while he backed out of the parking space. "Sophie's the same way. She's always trying to get me to volunteer with her or go to charity events."

I brushed my hair off my forehead and groaned. "Yeah, but I bet she doesn't make you feel bad for not getting involved."

"No, she doesn't," Parker agreed slowly. "But I usually try to support her whenever I can."

"Well, aren't you the boyfriend of the year?"

Parker grimaced at my response, his ears coloring pink. "I mean, I'm sure you do the same."

"Nah, I don't," I admitted. I propped my elbow against the window. "Honestly, I can't think of anything worse than marching in circles and shouting at people to save the sea cows."

Parker checked for traffic before edging his car out of the restaurant's parking lot and onto the main road. "I'm not trying to be a prick," he said, "but I really don't understand how you two have dated for this long."

"We're not dating," I corrected him without missing a beat.

"Whatever."

I reached over to turn on the radio, scanning the channels until a familiar country song came through the speakers. After listening to the final note of the chorus, I said, "You can say it if you want to."

"What?"

"Whatever it is that you're thinking."

Parker slowed his car as we approached a red light. "I don't think anything," he replied, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. "I guess I'm trying to understand what you see in her, that's all."

"Let me know if you figure that out," I said with a short laugh. "Maybe you can explain it to me."

A thoughtful sound escaped from Parker's mouth, followed by the furrowing of his eyebrows. "Have you guys thought about what you're going to do after Gemma graduates?"

I stared down at my lap and remembered the conversation that I'd had with Gemma just a few weeks before. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then, though her words still weighed heavily on my mind. "Scott, I took a job in D.C. I'm moving back the week after graduation."

"Not really," I lied, unwilling to admit that Gemma and I were cruising steadily towards our permanent demise. "To be honest, it's not something I'm focusing on."

"Seriously?"

"All I care about right now is passing kinesiology."

A strange glint flashed in Parker's eye as the light changed to green. Accelerating past the line of cars beside him, he cleared his throat before signaling to change lanes. "You know," he said, glancing over his shoulder to check his blind spot, "Melanie would probably be able to help you with that class."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that she could tutor you or something. I can talk to her about it, if you want."

I frowned. "I don't know, man."

"Come on," he continued, drowning out my protests. "She works for your professor so she'll have some idea about what he's looking for on his tests--plus, she's so smart that it's stupid."

Despite my hesitation, Pete Kovich's recommendation that I find graduate student to work with rang in my ears. "Yeah, maybe."

"Maybe, what?"

"Maybe you can ask her about it for me," I said, relenting. "Just don't... Just don't make it awkward or anything."

"Why would it be awkward?"

Parker turned to drive down The Row, sailing past the massive multi-million dollar homes that housed the other fraternities and sororities within the Greek system. A group of people dressed in neon spandex stood mulling outside the frat across the street from ours and a few of them waved when they recognized us.

Two charter buses were parked near the other frat's driveway and I guessed that they were hosting their first date dash of the semester. A lot of my friends hated date dashes, in large part because the dance was kept a secret from non-exec members until the day of the event. Depending on how sadistic Mattie was feeling, sometimes he'd only give us a few hours to find someone to go with, and although you technically didn't need a date to attend, no one ever wanted to be the guy stuck in a group of bros all night. It had happened to all of us at least once and it always put a damper on the evening. I usually asked Gemma to avoid the risk of going solo but, deep down, I personally felt like half the fun came from the last minute rush of asking someone new.

Tearing my gaze from the growing crowd, I struggled to find the words to explain my lingering hesitation. My thoughts kept drifting to Melanie's wide smile, and as Parker swung his SUV into our house's parking lot, I blurted, "You're not trying to set me up with her or anything, are you?"

"Who?" Parker asked, and I couldn't tell if the surprise on his face was genuine or part of some calculated act. He pulled into a space marked with a sign that read Reserved - President before killing the engine. Grabbing his backpack from the back seat, Parker hopped out of his car and I hurried after him. "Melanie?"

"Yeah, Melanie."

Parker jogged up the steps to the house's backdoor. "No, of course not," he replied, swiping his keycard and leaning against the door's handle in one swift motion. An easy grin spread across his face. "But, uh, I can, if you're interested. I don't mind."

"What? No." I took the stairs after him two at a time. Once we were both inside, the door slammed shut behind us with a loud bang. "She went out with my brother, she--"

Parker cut me off with a shake of his head. "They got dinner together once. I don't think they're heading to the altar any time soon."

"So, you are up to something," I said accusingly, but Parker laughed, quickening his pace as we strode down the corridor that led to the kitchen.

"Honestly, Scott," Parker said, without looking back at me, "until you brought it up, it had never even crossed my mind."

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A/N: Happy Thankgiving/Friendsgiving/last full week of November! Hope you enjoyed the update - votes and comments are always appreciated. Again, sorry for any typos. Please point them out if you see them because I'll be making edits to my recent posts beginning on December 18th!