Have you ever been so terrified that you don't even feel it? You don't get shaky legs, or a sickness in your stomach, you just feel nothing. Like your brain decides “nope, that's too scary, I’m shutting this down”. That's how it felt to come face-to-face with my father while I was dressed head-to-toe in women's clothing. Usually when I got anxious I felt dizzy, or like my heart was pounding in my ears. At that moment, I just felt numb.

  I stared at my father and said nothing. Even if I could think of something to say, I didn't think I could make my mouth form words.

  “Is this how college students are dressing these days, then?” Father said. He wasn't talking to me this time, and I realized dimly that Patrick, the RA, was standing beside him.

  “Ha ha!” Patrick said sweatily, “I, uh, I guess, uh, that's, that's, you know! I'm not really supposed to comment on how people dress, I think!”

  Father rolled his eyes and waved Patrick away.

  “You're dismissed,” he said, “I'm incredibly disappointed in you for not answering Nicole’s calls, Dominic. I had to ask that idiot for directions, and I'm sure you can imagine how irritating that was.”

  Patrick hadn't actually left yet. He winced and opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and just looked glum.

  “Thank you, Patrick,” I said, finding my voice at st, “I'm sorry for… the inconvenience.”

  My father harrumphed, acknowledging the apology he assumed was meant for him. I made a sympathetic face to Patrick and he gave me a grateful smile and scampered off. My heart sank as I saw him passing Nick, who was stomping up the hallway in his ratty gray hoodie and gym shorts. I tried to scream ‘go away’ at him with the power of my mind.

  “Well, Dominic,” Father said, and his lip curled in disgust as he gnced at me again, “I don't know what the hell you’re pying at, but it needs to stop now. Is there a reason you're dressed like this?”

  “Yes, Father,” I said quickly, “I was just… I was just…”

  “Just working out,” said Nick, “That's the kind of stuff all us athletes wear. For mobility. Right… Dom?”

  I felt a weird mix of relief and absolute horror at Nick inserting himself into the conversation. I wasn't sure if my father would buy his expnation. ‘Working out’ seemed like a pretty far-fetched excuse for wearing women's clothing, and my father was a very shrewd man.

  Father turned to Nick with a sneer, which he dropped when he saw Nick’s towering, athletic body.

  “Well, right, of course,” he blustered, “I was well aware of that. And who would you be?”

  “This is Nick,” I said quickly, “He’s my… my friend.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows and I gred at him over my father’s shoulder. I switched my telepathic message to ‘don’t fuck me over’.

  “Yeah, we’re good friends,” said Nick, “A pleasure to meet you, Mr Lane.”

  Nick held out his left hand for a handshake. My father gave him an odd look, then caught sight of Nick’s prosthetic right hand and turned to me with wide eyes. I blushed furiously. God, it had been five seconds.

  “They say tuition costs an arm and a leg!” Father excimed, “I see your friend must be on a half schorship!”

  I wished the ground would swallow me up.

  Nick chuckled dryly, “Something like that.”

  “He's on a full schorship, actually,” I said. I felt a strange urge to defend him, even if just so my choice of friends didn't reflect poorly on me. “For athletics. Hurdles, specifically. He's really good. And he works very hard.”

  “He does seem the type,” Father said, turning back to Nick. He shook his hand, “Well, I'm gd to see Dominic is choosing his friends wisely. I trust you’re putting him through his paces at the track.”

  Nick smirked, “Yeah, I've worked little Dominic pretty hard.”

  I gave up on telepathic messages and now tried to explode Nick’s head with my mind.

  “Good, that's good,” Father nodded obliviously, “Between the two of us, Dominic’s always been a bit soft. Good on you for trying to harden him up.”

  “Oh, if anything he’s been hardening me up,” said Nick.

  “Alright!” I snapped, “Nick, you probably have things to do! Lovely talking to you, as always! Father, I imagine you’d like a tour of the campus? Or to see my dorm room?”

  I stepped to the side, gesturing behind me. Father flicked his hand dismissively.

  “No, I have hardly the time nor interest for that. I have more pressing things to do than inspect your bedroom,” he said. Nick gave me an icy look. Father continued, “Nicole’s arranged a dinner reservation, and after all this fuss I think I’m well due for a meal. Come, Dominic. The car’s waiting.”

  My heart raised momentarily at that. If the car was here, that meant…

  “I'll just go change,” I said, “What's the dress code? I have a suit–”

  “No, no time for that,” said Father, “You've kept me waiting long enough with your monkeying about.”

  “He does that a lot,” said Nick, “I remember you were half an hour te to that thing st week, Dominic. What were you doing, again?”

  Nick’s head seriously should've exploded by now.

  “I don't recall,” I said stiffly.

  Nick shrugged, “Me, I'm always punctual. You've gotta take every opportunity, Mr Lane. You don't get anywhere by zing around.”

  “Exactly right,” said my father, “Dominic, you’ve got a lot to learn from this young man. In fact, Nichos, what say you join us for dinner?”

  Nick smiled. Head exploding was too good for him, I decided. I would devise a worse punishment, something excruciatingly painful that would st ten years at minimum.

  “I would love to,” said Nick.

  ***

  The three of us walked back to Father’s car, with Father prattling on about the business deal he had come to town for. Some merger or acquisition or something like that. I let it wash over me as I always did, but Nick seemed genuinely interested, and kept chiming in with questions that my father was only too happy to answer. The two of them were, unfortunately, hitting it off. I knew my father had always wanted his son to be tougher. More masculine. Maybe god gave him the wrong Dominic Lane.

  I couldn't think about that too much, though, because I was too busy looking for the car. I spotted it from a distance, the gleaming luxury vehicle looking wildly out of pce among all the crappy student cars on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. Standing by the driver’s door, resplendent in his chauffeur’s uniform, was Harry.

  I had to stop myself from yelling out to him from across the wn. Although Harry had encouraged me to call him, I hadn't been able to bring myself to actually do it. He was busy with his own family, and even though I knew he would happily make the time for me, it felt selfish to bother him outside of work hours. But now he was here in person, and I felt myself smiling uncontrolbly.

  “...so do you write the contract yourself?” Nick asked my father.

  “Oh, I look over it. But I have a team of wyers…” my father replied.

  By this point in the conversation they had forgotten me entirely, so there was nothing stopping me from running ahead and tackling Harry in a tight hug.

  Harry ughed and wrapped his arms around me, “Hey, kiddo. Long time, no see.”

  I squeezed Harry tight one st time and then stepped back, straightening up professionally in case my father happened to gnce over. I smiled up at him. I hadn't realized just how much I missed him.

  “Hi, Harry,” I said, “It's good to see you again.”

  “Look at you!” Harry said enthusiastically. He gestured at my outfit and I blushed, but he didn't sound judgmental at all. “You look fantastic. Good for you, trying something new. It suits you. You look happy. How's school going? Have you made any friends?”

  “Yeah!” I gushed, “Actually, I'm kind of borrowing their clothes right now. Um. Father wasn't happy about it.”

  “Don't worry about your dad, alright Dom? You're at college, this is the time to find yourself,” said Harry. He frowned, “And, hey, we need to talk about that present.”

  I grinned, “Did you like it?”

  “Kiddo, five thousand dolrs cash is not a present,” Harry sighed.

  “Yes it is!” I said, “Didn't you read the card? I had a whole list of stuff you could spend it on. And it took me ages to sneak together that much cash. Please don't tell me you gave it back to my father.”

  Harry’s face softened, “I did like the card. And yeah, we ended up fixing up the roof. Thank you, Dom. You’re a real good kid.”

  I beamed, “My pleasure, Harry. It's the least I could do.”

  Harry straightened up as my father approached. He broke away from his conversation with Nick to say, “Back door, driver.” Harry opened the door for us and gave me one st reassuring look before he drove us to the restaurant.

  I didn't get a chance to talk to him again after that. I knew from experience that Father didn't approve of me fraternizing with his staff, and I didn't want to get Harry in any trouble. So instead I just had to sit there as Father and Nick talked about business, which was devastatingly boring, and then football, which was even worse.

  The restaurant was a fancy steakhouse, or at least as fancy as was avaible in an hour’s distance of Great Oaks College. The marble columns and fine mahogany trimmings clearly impressed Nick, but I doubted this pce was Michelin starred. Still, it was the kind of restaurant that I knew had a strict dress code. As we entered the dining room, I could see that every other guest was wearing formal evening attire. The ma?tre d’ hustled over with a look of displeasure on his face as he eyed me and Nick up and down. We were still in our extremely casual outfits, me in Shawnee’s leggings and Nick in his old battered hoodie. We couldn't have looked more out of pce.

  Nick gnced at me, clearly uncomfortable, but I shrugged and mouthed “It's fine,” even though on the inside I was still freaking out a bit about wearing women's clothes in front of my father. I knew the dress code wouldn't be an issue, though, and sure enough, the ma?tre d’ changed his attitude quickly when Father zily announced, “Lane account.”

  “Of course, sir, your table is right this way,” the ma?tre d’ groveled. I wondered idly if he was reted to Patrick. He checked his notepad and hesitated, “Er, Lane, party of two, was it?”

  “Ah, shi– shoot, sorry,” Nick started.

  “It'll be three tonight,” Father said airily.

  “Of course, sir,” said the ma?tre d’, and snapped quickly for a waiter to bring out another pce setting. It was ready by the time we reached our table, and Nick sat down in a daze. Clearly he wasn't used to problems being resolved so immediately. I sighed. This was not going to improve his attitude about me being spoiled.

  Father ordered wine, and the waiter brought it without asking Nick or me for our IDs. Nick sipped his with a disbelieving grin.

  “So, Nichos,” my father said, “You clearly have a keen interest in the business world. Is that the path you intend to follow after graduation?”

  “Absolutely,” said Nick, “I’d like to start my own company at some point, once I've had a few years in the workforce. I don't mind working for someone, but I'd prefer to be in control.”

  “A man after my own heart,” Father nodded, “This is what I’ve always told you, Dominic. You need to be your own man. You can't sit around expecting things to just fall into your p.”

  “I don't…” I muttered.

  “Exactly!” said Nick, “I’m always telling Ni– telling Dominic that. You know, when he moved in, he thought we would have a maid?”

  “Right,” said my father.

  Nick faltered, “Which, uh, which we don't.”

  My father ughed, “Of course, of course! Well, Dominic, you must’ve felt like a fool. Didn't you? A maid! You really embarrassed yourself there.”

  I kept my eyes down and sipped my wine, “Yes.”

  “Anyway, yeah, I don't really like…” Nick shrugged, “I don't know, being dependent on other people.”

  “Absolutely right,” Father said. He reached out and cpped my shoulder. His fingers dug in a bit too tight but I tried not to show that it hurt so I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of Nick. “Again, Dominic, this is what I've always said. You need to take responsibility for yourself. You can't rely on handouts. When I started my career, I worked my way up from the very bottom. I was working in the mailroom. And look at me now! A leading figure in the business world.”

  He gestured to Nick, still gripping my shoulder tightly, “Look at young Nichos. Now there’s a role model for you. He has all the excuses in the world to be a failure. His family, the color of his skin, his crippled arm. But he hasn't let that hold him back. He's not zing about on welfare. He's worked hard and earned his pce. Isn't that right, Nichos?”

  “Uh,” Nick said, “...sure, yeah.”

  I gulped my drink, feeling sure that my face must be just as red as the wine. I just couldn't bring myself to speak up to my father, though. Especially now, when I was just barely getting away with how I was dressed. My strategy had always just been to stay quiet and hope Father ignored me. Usually there weren't other people around for him to embarrass me in front of, though. Not that I cared what Nick thought, really. But I knew it wasn't right for Father to talk about him like that. Especially about his family. Had Nick even mentioned his family?

  Fortunately the waiter arrived to take our order before my father could say something even more offensive. Nick checked the menu and winced.

  “There's, uh, there's no prices on here,” he said.

  “You must try the A5 Kobe beef,” my father announced, “It's the finest cut, with the richest fvor. We’ll all have that, waiter. Extremely well done, I don't want a trace of red on there.”

  “Very good, sir,” said the waiter, “Although, may I suggest–”

  “You may not,” my father snapped.

  I was used to Father ordering for me, but Nick looked a bit put out. Hmm. Well done steaks could be pretty tough. I knew Nick could handle cutting up food with one hand, but sometimes he got a bit awkward about it if other people were around.

  “Could I have mine cut up, please?” I asked.

  “Oh, uh, mine too,” said Nick.

  The waiter nodded to us in turn, “Of course, madam, sir.”

  He promptly headed to the kitchen and I slunk down in my seat, already dreading what my father would say. He sighed deeply and I could hear the tone of disgust in his voice.

  “So, uh, hey! That, uh, hey, that car was pretty cool!” said Nick, “What was that, a Rolls Royce?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the two of them unched into talking about cars, another subject I had very little interest in. The waiter brought out our steaks, and even though they were overcooked, they were still very good. I felt a little guilty about eating meat. Miel had raised some good points about veganism.

  “Are you working, Nichos?” Father asked. He hadn't asked me any questions about what I had been up to yet, but that was fine by me. I was just hoping we would finish up soon so I could go back to the safety of my dorm room.

  “I am, yeah,” said Nick, “I'm just working at this sporting goods store. But, uh, I'm hoping to, uh, maybe intern… somewhere… at some point in my degree…”

  I could feel the tentative hope in his voice, but I could tell Nick would stop short of actually asking my father for a favor. I kept my head down. I knew my father could find a position for Nick easily, and despite everything else about him I knew he was smart and hard-working enough to do a good job. But if I said anything, I knew my father would turn it around on me somehow.

  “Yes, well, we all start somewhere,” said Father, “That must keep you busy.”

  “For sure,” said Nick, “With work plus training and meets and csses and dating and all, yeah, I'm, uh, it's pretty tiring. But I'm handling it fine.”

  “And you're keeping your grades up?” Father asked.

  Nick nodded, “Doing great so far.”

  “Do you hear that, Dominic?” Father turned to me and I raised my eyes to his obediently, “Nichos can handle keeping his grades up even with all his other responsibilities. And yet I notice yours have been slipping.”

  My shoulders sank. I had let my grades drop a little bit recently. Business csses just seemed so pointless sometimes.

  “Sorry, Father,” I mumbled, “I’ve been… distracted.”

  “I can't imagine with what,” my father snorted, “Not working. Clearly not putting in much effort at the gym. Don't tell me you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

  My face burned. No, Father, I don't have a girlfriend, and I'll never have a girlfriend, because I'm gay, probably! Somehow I couldn't bring myself to say that out loud, so I just quietly said, “No.”

  Father scoffed, “Well, you’d better get serious about your schooling, Dominic. It was your decision to go to this school, and I allowed it with the understanding that you would take some responsibility for yourself here.”

  “Yes, Father,” I said, “I'm sorry. I will.”

  “Hey, Dom’s actually been pretty busy,” Nick spoke up, “He's being modest, y’know? He's really involved with this student group, they do a lot of volunteer work. Food drives and cleanups and stuff like that. It's pretty cool.”

  I stared at him. He shrugged, “It's true. You’re keeping busy.”

  “Oh, fantastic,” my father snapped, “So you won't get a real job, but you have time to work for free for a bunch of hippies.”

  “It’s not that often,” I said quietly.

  “It's helping the community and stuff,” Nick pointed out, scrambling to fix things, “Last week you helped out at that soup kitchen. That's pretty cool, right Mr Lane?”

  “Dominic, I’ve told you, we don't give out handouts!” said my father, “People need to take personal responsibility.”

  “Sorry, Father,” I said again.

  He shook his head, “Is this what you're going to dedicate your life to? Hanging around with vagrants and derelicts? When I was your age, I was vice president of sales.”

  “Wait,” Nick looked confused, “I thought you were in the mailroom?”

  “Yes, for a couple of weeks,” my father said brusquely, “Once I had proven myself, my father promoted me to a more fitting position. And Dominic, you are not doing a good job of proving yourself. Look at you! In those ridiculous clothes, with that ridiculous mop of hair. The waiter called you a woman, he probably thinks you're a transsexual! Are you not ashamed of yourself?”

  “I am ashamed,” I said, eyes downcast. That was true, at least. Father was right, I was an embarrassment. I had been at college for months now, and what had I achieved? I was wearing women's clothing that didn't make me look like a woman, hanging out with friends I was going to betray, hooking up with a guy I didn't even like. I was pathetic.

  “Whoa, hey,” Nick raised his voice, “First of all, there's nothing wrong with– and hey, what are you talking about handouts when your dad just gave you a job?”

  “And now you need your friend to stand up for you,” my father scoffed. I slumped lower in my seat and he groaned, “Dominic, don't sulk. You're making a scene.”

  “You're the one who’s being an asshole!” said Nick. I snapped my head up, staring at him in shock. “Dom is fucking– he's doing a good job, okay? He's not fucking failing out or anything! And he's, fucking, he's learned a lot, alright? Shit that you coulda helped him out with, like undry and shit. And he's a good guy, most of the time, and have you seen that painting he did? It's fucking good! I went to his fucking art studio, it was the best thing there!”

  He had gotten very loud by the end of his rant, and people around us were staring. I stared too, feeling a mix of horror and… gratitude? He was standing up for me, after all, even if it was in an insanely inappropriate way. Nobody talked to my father that way. In fact, it looked like it was such a foreign experience that my father’s brain couldn't even comprehend it, because instead of snapping back at Nick he just turned to me with a suspicious look.

  “Art studio?” he said, “Tell me you're not hanging around with artists. You know, they're a bunch of deviant perverts.”

  “They… they’re not that bad,” I stuttered.

  Father sighed, “Dominic, why can't you be more like your friend here? He may be a loudmouth, but at least he's acting like a man!”

  Nick shoved his chair back from the table and stood up, smming his hand down on the table.

  “I'm bisexual, bitch!” he shouted, “I fuck dudes! How's that for a role model?”

  The restaurant went silent. My father stared at Nick’s hand, which had come down hard and sent the cutlery cttering.

  “Nick, I think you should go,” I said quickly.

  Nick looked around, finally noticing all the rich people watching at him. He wilted a bit.

  “Fuck,” he said, “Sorry, Nick.”

  “Can… can you get back to the dorm okay?” I said.

  “Yeah, yeah, I'll get Karl to pick me up,” said Nick. He stepped away from the table and cast a look back at my father, who was still staring at where his hand had smmed down. The tablecloth was bunched up around the impact zone. Nick muttered, “Food was shit, anyway,” and walked away.

  I sat nervously, waiting for my father to speak. I had never seen anyone talk to him that way. Ever. I had no idea what was about to happen. Was he going to scream at me? Would he literally explode?

  After a moment, my father raised his head stiffly.

  “How childish,” he said.

  “Yes, Father,” I agreed quickly.

  “You’ll stop spending time with that boy,” he said.

  “Definitely,” I nodded, “I don't like him, anyway.”

  “Good,” said Father, and he called the waiter for more wine.

  We didn't speak about any of it after that. Not Nick’s outburst, not my grades, not even the way I was dressed. It seemed like Father preferred to act as if the whole conversation had never happened, which was fine by me. When we finished our meals, Father went to the cigar room and sent me out to the car alone.

  “Hey kiddo,” Harry said as I approached, “How was dinner?”

  “Incredible,” I said, “Nick just called my father a bitch. To his face!”

  Harry’s jaw dropped, “No.”

  “Yep,” I grinned.

  Harry chuckled disbelievingly, “Well, it's about time somebody did.”

  ***

  I got back to the dorms with a real spring in my step. Unbelievably, my father’s visit had actually turned out great. I got to catch up with Harry on the drive back (his daughter Tiff was getting engaged!) and tell him about everything I had been up to. Well, not quite everything. I didn't mention coming out as gay. It felt like it was a bit too soon to share it with my family. Or my family's staff.

  I told him about the good stuff, though. My friends, and ACORN, and my art. Harry insisted I show him my painting, and pulled the car over until I brought it up on my phone for him. He decred it “a masterpiece”, which I knew he was obligated to say, but still made me happy to hear. He gave me another hug when we reached the campus, and I promised I would call him if anything happened between now and Christmas break.

  Even seeing my father hadn't been so bad. Sure, he tore me apart a little bit, but that happened every time I saw him. This time I got to see him get some of his own medicine!

  I still felt a little bit funny about Nick standing up for me like that. That really wasn't our retionship, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate it. I liked seeing him yell at somebody else for a change. And having him defend my honor was… kinda nice. Like he was a loyal knight, going out into battle to protect his queen.

  I smirked to myself as I walked down the hall. Maybe I would explore that knight-and-queen idea some more in the shower tonight. Or maybe Nick would be back in my room now that my father was gone, and I could give him a proper thank you.

  Things really weren’t so bad, were they? Nick wasn’t such a total jerk after all. I could handle sharing a room with him for a while. I could let Kermit do his secret project in peace, and keep making art, and spending time with my friends, and being openly gay, and maybe – maybe! – even make some more moves towards the whole gender thing. My father was right about one thing. I could use a haircut. But maybe not one that he approved of!

  When I reached my door, I was thrilled to see Nick was home after all. The light was on, I could see through the cracks of the doorframe. That made sense, actually! He still needed to pick up his work uniform, he must've decided to just stay over after Karl dropped him off.

  Having learned nothing, I flung open the door with another excited, “Heyyyy!”

  “Oh, fuck,” Nick muttered.

  I stopped dead. Nick was home, alright. But he wasn't alone.

  “Oh shit, haha,” said Karl, “Hi, Little Dom.”

  The two of them were lying in bed together – in my bed together – with their bodies entwined around each other. Nick was on top of Karl, who was still zily petting his back as he gazed down at me. They were still fully clothed, although Nick had taken off both his hoodie and his prostheses, and was down to just a worn bck tank top. There was no doubt that Karl could feel every striation of his muscles through the thin material.

  It was btantly, disgustingly clear that they had just been making out.

  “What the fuck?” I said.

  “Sorry, little guy,” Karl grinned. He sure didn't seem sorry. He was lounging back comfortably in my bed, on my expensive sheets, still unashamedly caressing my roommate. “We thought you would be out a while longer. Weren't you getting dinner with your daddy?”

  “I'm back now,” I said dumbly.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Nick said, avoiding eye contact, “I, uh. Karl gave me a lift back, and, uh. Yeah. We thought you would take longer.”

  “Or knock,” Karl smirked, “You weren’t trying to catch us, were you?”

  “Ew!” I said, “No! That’s the st fucking thing I want to see!”

  Karl shrugged, unbothered. Fuck. There was a red mark on his neck, which, by the way, was way too long and way too pale and made him look like a weird albino mutant. Was that a hickey?

  “How long has this been going on?” I asked.

  “Just the st couple of nights,” said Nick.

  “I think Dom wanted to make a move the first night he slept over, but he got shy,” Karl smiled sickeningly up at Nick, “He’s a real cutie.”

  Karl stretched up with his stupid long neck and pecked Nick on the lips. I wanted to throw up.

  “I, uh, I told Karl our deal with the bed,” Nick said. He did look at me this time. “Y’know, how we take turns each week?”

  I stared up at him. His dark eyes were wide, silently pleading. I bit my lip. Fuck. I did kind of owe him.

  “Yeah,” I said, “That’s right. I guess… I guess it’s my turn on the couch.”

  “I hope you don’t mind if I sleep over,” Karl said, “I think it’s only fair after I hosted Dom at my pce the st few nights. My roommate could use a break!”

  He smiled down at me, seemingly innocent. But I could see a hint of steel in his eyes.

  “That’s fine,” I said stiffly.

  “Thanks, Nick,” Nick mumbled.

  “It’s so funny how you guys call each other that,” Karl ughed, “Thanks, Little Dom!”

  “I need to make a call,” I said, and stepped back outside, smming the door behind me.

  Fuck. Fuck! I didn’t know why this was grossing me out so much. It was Karl, that was it. Fucking Karl. The only guy more annoying than Nick himself. And Nick was annoying, I decided. I didn’t know what I had been thinking on the way home. I was being way too generous. Just because he had one stupid loud outburst at the restaurant, which was completely unnecessary, because I could handle things myself, anyway! Hadn’t I always? And now he was in my bed, making out with his, what, his boyfriend?

  That thought really made my stomach turn. I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t homophobic, was I? No, I knew that wasn’t it. I mean, hell, I was gay! Probably! Almost definitely!

  I stomped down the hall. I was so mad I could almost have punched the wall. Stupid Nick! Stupid Karl! Fucking… ugh!

  His dick was supposed to be mine!

  That was the crux of it, right? I mean, god! Not to be selfish or spoiled or anything, but hello! I had earned it! How many times had I made Nick cum over the past few months? Like, thirty! And now Karl was just going to take it away from me? Just snatch it out of my hands without even asking first? It wasn’t fair! Just when I was finally coming to terms with losing my private room, I was losing the only good part of having a roommate. Instead of getting to celebrate and rex with some fun oral sex, I was going to have to sleep on that stupid fucking couch, wearing men’s pajamas again, and listen to Nick and Karl make out all night. And, what, the night after that, too? How long would this keep happening?

  I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it.

  I remembered Jess offering to let me stay at her pce, and I almost called her right then and there. But, no. Then Karl would know he had got in my head. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. And besides, I couldn’t just stay with Jess and Shawnee for the rest of the semester. I needed a more permanent solution.

  Instead, I called Miel.

  “Hey Dom!” she said brightly, “What’s going on?”

  “Miel,” I said, “Tell Kermit I want in on his secret project.”