"Is that what you're wearing?"

Jacky stared at the wall and sighed loud enough for Billy to hear the strains of annoyance in it. "Yes, Billy."

Billy made a humming sound. "All ri-iight."

Trying to ignore him, Jacky pulled the Syracuse lanyard with his dorm room key over his head. He glanced at himself in the mirror and wondered if it was dorky to wear the lanyard like this. He had a feeling only freshman did it. Everyone else had been wearing their lanyards at the icebreaker, but would they wear them to a party?

Sighing again, he turned to Billy, who knew exactly what Jacky was going to ask.

"Put the lanyard in your pocket," Billy said. His own lanyard dangled out of his own front pocket.

"That's what you're wearing?" Jacky asked, taking in Billy's crisp red flannel shirt, worn over a white t-shirt with a deep v-neck, and the tightest jeans possible.

Billy put a hand on his hip. "Flannel is how you signal that you're gay."

"With that outfit, you're more likely to signal a lumberjack."

Raising his eyebrows, Billy grinned.

"I mean, wouldn't you rather wear your Gucci or whatever?" Jacky tilted his head toward Billy's overflowing closet and supplementary clothing rack.

"You can't flash it all on the first day," Billy said, leaning against his bed, which on the risers was the perfect height for leaning. "You have to leave some in reserve to wow them with later. Besides, this is a dorm room party, not a club. Not a 21+ club with a VIP section, which is where I'll wear my designer clothes." Billy smirked. "Impressed that you've heard of Gucci by the way. Since it seems like you get all your clothes at Target."

"How would you know unless you shopped there?" Jacky snapped back.

"Oooh." Billy stood and shimmied his shoulders. "I forgot how sassy you can be."

"Fuck off."

"Gladly." Pushing back his red poof of hair, Billy smiled. "But seriously, flannel is in. Don't you have a flannel shirt? Don't you want to let all the boys know what you're about?"

Jacky paused. "Okay, I'm pretty sure the flannel thing is only for lesbians. And a stereotype, which I'd rather not be."

"Ugh, fine. Then do your all-black emo thing and let's go." With a wave of his hand, Billy sashayed toward the door.

Jacky went to follow then paused again, glancing at himself in the mirror. "I mean, do you think I look too straight?"

At this, Billy spun around. "Yes, you fucking fool. You reek of straightness. Don't you have a tighter t-shirt? Tighter pants? Is anything you own form-fitting or flattering in any way?"

Jacky's thoughts went to Ryan's tight t-shirts. It had become a joke between them. Did your shirt shrink in the wash? Jacky would say. Then they'd start making out. "No."

"You're self-aware, I'll give you that." Billy pursed his lips as he sized Jacky up. Then he went to his own drawers and pulled out a faded gray concert T-shirt and tossed it in Jacky's direction.

Jacky fumbled to catch it in one hand, then spread it on his bed to get a proper look. "David Bowie?" He raised his eyebrows at Billy.

Counting off on his fingers, Billy said, "Bowie is a queer icon, and it's not black. And it's kinda your style, if I was forced to say you have a style. Now put on the damn shirt and let's go. We want to get there before all the bootleg liquor is guzzled by those wanna-be frat bros."

"I'm not sure why you're so eager for this party," Jacky mumbled as he hauled the offensive black shirt over his head. "You really think any of those guys are gay?"

"Worth a shot," Billy said, and Jacky heard a sound like a metal cap screwing off. He turned just in time to see what he expected to see.

"Did you seriously sneak a flask onto campus?"

"Don't look so shocked," Billy said. "I have three bottles of whiskey in my trunk. What, did you think I was going to come here unprepared?"

Jacky shut his gaping mouth. His own mother was strict about alcohol, but Billy's mother probably allowed unfettered access. "But... you just said you didn't want to miss the liquor at this party."

"This—" Billy jiggled the flask, "is my personal stash. For when I have cool new friends to share it with. Not to waste on a potentially forgettable first party."

Giving himself a once-over in the mirror, Jacky did have to admit that the t-shirt looked better. Drew less attention to his arm somehow, because people could look at the picture on the shirt instead of the empty space where his arm used to be. Why hadn't he ever thought of that before?

"Okay, I'm ready," Jacky said.

Billy capped his flask with an approving nod. "Next time, I'm going to make you wear makeup."

"Oh, are you already considering hanging out with me again?" Jacky drawled in his best impression of Billy.

"Not if I can help it," Billy sang back.

Crossing the hallway was less of a journey than Jacky had imagined. In high school, to go to a party meant finding a ride, making sure someone was a designated driver, checking with parents about curfews, and having to consider if it was hot or cold or raining outside. The sudden total freedom hit him. He didn't have to go to bed at a specific time. He didn't have to wear shoes if he didn't want to. His entire college social life might take place in this hallway, without having to go anywhere else. If he had forgotten something, he could just walk two steps back to his own room.

Billy rapped on the door marked "206," which had a thumping EDM bassline emitting from behind it. "God, please let there be at least one gay at this party," Billy muttered.

Gesturing to himself, Jacky said, "Your prayers are answered."

If Billy rolled his eyes any harder he'd give himself a concussion.

The door opened, and they were greeted by a muscular guy in a black t-shirt that strained at his biceps. Jacky's gaze moved up from the wall of his chest to a face with cheekbones to die for and caramel brown hair tousled into a movie star-level bedhead.

"Hey," the guy said. "I'm Brody O."

Jacky remembered a Brody at the icebreakers, and this guy wasn't him. Brody O. hadn't been at the icebreakers, Jacky knew that much. He would have remembered a guy who looked like this.

Billy held out his hand, palm down, like a lady offering her hand to be kissed. "Liam."

Jacky bit down on his lip to keep from laughing out loud. To his surprise, Brody grabbed Billy's fingers and gave them a gentle shake. "I'm Jack..." he started, fizzling out then finishing, "Jacky. Jennings." He gave an awkward wave.

"Come on in," Brody said, stepping back. "Braedyn's my brother. I'm a sophomore, so if you have any questions about campus life just let me know!"

"Brothers?" Billy whispered the moment Brody turned his back. "Guess we know who got the looks in the family."

Jacky gave him an elbow to the ribs. "Braedyn's not bad."

"But compared to Brody Ohhhhh..." Billy moaned that last part, and Jacky bolted into the room to escape Billy's out-of-control libido.

Somehow Braedyn's room was even smaller than theirs. Then again, there were about ten people crammed inside, and there was a futon next to the bunk beds. Jacky wondered if he and Billy should have gone the bunk bed route simply for the extra space.

Jacky recognized Alexis from icebreakers, but he didn't want to be anywhere near her. She was draped all over Brandon already. As he was scanning for someplace, any place to sit, someone bumped him from behind.

"Hey," said Braedyn with a smile. "Wanna beer?"

"Sure." Anything to help the current awkwardness of not knowing anybody.

Braedyn turned around, and a cold breeze hit the backs of Jacky's legs. He realized he was standing in front of their mini-fridge. Braedyn handed Jacky a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

"Thanks." Jacky popped the tab and took a swig, then realized Braedyn was watching him. "What?"

"Sorry, I was going to offer to open it for you." Braedyn winced. "Sorry. I sound like an asshole."

Jacky shrugged.

"You should go talk to Deja. She's into soccer. And she's pretty, right?"

Across the room, Deja looked uncomfortable, but sure, she was pretty, with big dark eyes, full lips, and her dark skin gleaming in the room's colored lights. She was clutching a water bottle and sitting next to her roommate, who was completely ignoring her. As soon as Jacky shuffled closer, the roommate left.

Jacky took a deep breath and said, "You're into soccer, right?"

"Are you talking to me?" Deja asked.

"Yeah," said Jacky.

"Oh, you're..." Deja trailed off. Jacky nodded, figuring what she was going to say. You're that kid with one arm. She pursed her lips, then gave him a direct look. "I should let you know, they already had soccer tryouts."

In that moment, Jacky's thoughts spiraled back to the icebreakers. Of course they'd already had tryouts. Syracuse was a big football school, but their other teams must be good, too. People probably came here on soccer scholarships. They had probably played varsity in high school. Last year Jacky had joined a community league with his friend Darren after practicing with him all summer. That had seemed like a big deal to him. Here it was nothing.

That was probably why people were giving him those pity looks during icebreakers. He's an amputee, and he's clueless.

Jacky took a swig of his beer and struggled to swallow it. He ended up coughing, and Deja slapped him on the back. "I think there's a soccer club," she added.

"Cool," he choked.

He wanted to leave and find someone else to talk to. There was zero available space in the room for that. He stared at his beer. Ryan always called Pabst Blue Ribbon "the worst beer." Lance, Ryan's best friend, would always reply, "The cheapest beer!" before draining his can in three gulps and smashing it into his forehead. He shook his head like he could shake away all the memories.

"So what's your favorite kind of pizza?" he said lamely.

His statement was lost in music booming out of a speaker somewhere. He didn't know what this music was, but it was definitely not his taste. "Wutang!" someone yelled across the room.

"What?" Deja yelled in his ear.

Jacky didn't bother to try to repeat his stupid icebreaker question. Across the room, Billy made eye contact with him, then Billy glanced over at Deja and gave Jacky a quizzical look.

Jacky returned that look with a wince and a little shrug.

Billy laughed and turned back to a skinny Asian kid with a swoop of hair in his eyes. Then, as he was talking, he looked back at Jacky and raised one eyebrow with a slight nod of his head toward his companion.

Jacky assessed the situation: the guy was dressed in skinny jeans and a Syracuse hoodie, which didn't say much about whether he was gay or straight. And Jacky couldn't see his shoes.

"Sorry if I was too blunt!" Deja yelled in his ear. "My roommate already told me I'm rude."

"It's fine," Jacky yelled back. He gave Billy a one shoulder shrug to say, Questionable. "I should have known. I'm not ready for big league soccer anyway. A club's better for me."

"Cool," said Deja. "So what's your major?"

Ah yes. The question Jacky had been dreading. "Undecided," he said.

"Mine's biology."

"Sounds hard." Jacky had no interest any of the hard sciences – Ryan's dream of being a doctor was way beyond anything Jacky wanted to do. "I was thinking maybe communications. I'm kinda interested in writing."

"Like writing a book?" Deja asked.

Like writing a eulogy that landed me in therapy, Jacky thought. "More like journalism."

"Cool," Deja said again.

Jacky was trying to think of something, anything, to say to Deja when the brown-haired girl who had been sitting beside Deja earlier stumbled into him. He stood up from leaning against the end of the bunkbeds.

"Sorry!" the girl said, putting a hand on his arm. "Wow, you've got strong arms."

There were so many things wrong with this scenario that Jacky couldn't process them all at once.

"I'm Kelsey, what's your name?" she asked, much too close to his face.

"Jacky," he said.

"Cute," she slurred. "Oh my god, I'm so drunk right now." She pushed herself closer and whispered, "I had two vodka shots."

Now it was Jacky's turn to make emergency eyes at Billy across the room. Billy glanced at the drunk girl and laughed.

Thanks, Billy.

"What else did you drink, Kelsey?" Deja said, moving past Jacky. "Two shots and what else?"

"Oh my gaaaawwwwd," Kelsey moaned into Jacky's shoulder.

"It's not even nine o'clock and you're wasted!"

Kelsey swayed upright and glared at Deja. "I'm just really good at getting drunk, Mom."

Deja gave Jacky a deadpan look. "She's my roommate."

"Whatever," Kelsey said. "I'm just here to have a good time! Wooo!" Kelsey waved her arms in the air and half the room wooed back at her. This gave one of the Brandon/Braedyn lookalikes a chance to grab Kelsey's waist and pull her down to sit on his lap. She giggled.

"Yikes," Jacky said.

"I'm not here to be her baby-sitter," Deja said. "And as fun as it is to talk to you... I think I'd rather be in my dorm room where it's quiet."

Jacky nodded. "See you on the soccer field, maybe."

The room didn't feel any less crowded with Deja gone. The loud music and all the unfamiliar faces conspired to make Jacky feel totally alone. He tilted the beer to his lips, only to discover there was no more.

He managed to locate the trash can, right beside the mini fridge. He paused there. He had two options: leave the party and sit alone in his room feeling like a loser, or grab another beer.

His hand was in the fridge before he had made a conscious decision about it.

Over the past year he'd almost forgotten how invisible he was. Dating Ryan had pulled him into the circle of popular kids who were on the football team and student council and threw parties. Just like that he was thrown right back to sophomore year, rejoining school with one big obvious difference, the kind of difference that made people not want to look at him. No one wanted to be the one who stared, so they pretended not to see him at all.

And no one was going to tell the one-armed kid he couldn't have a second beer. Or a third. Then someone pulled out a deck of cards and Braedyn hooked Jacky into playing some game with rules he didn't quite understand, a game that involved several more beers guzzled. He was talking to people and laughing and he didn't even know what was going on when Brody stood up and hauled his shirt over his head, only that half the girls in the room squealed while Billy fell against Jacky's side clutching his chest. "Brody Ohhhh," Billy moaned, and some girls nearby cackled and Jacky touched his own lips which were numb but smiling.

Somehow he ended up sitting on the lower bunk bed next to Braedyn, sharing a bag of Cheetos with his beer held between his thighs.

"The thing about girls," Braedyn was saying, "is that they're just people."

"Yeah," Jacky said. Braedyn had nice brown eyes, with long lashes. They were warm and inviting.

"I mean, you can't expect them to be perfect, because nobody's perfect. You know?"

"Yeah." Braedyn's lips were both full, whereas Ryan had a full bottom lip and a thinner top lip. Jacky wondered how different it would feel.

"And they're not going to expect you to be perfect. You're a cool guy, Jack."

It took him a minute to realize Braedyn was talking to him. He had told people his name was Jack.

"I am?" he said, feeling slow. Was Braedyn saying what he thought he was saying? Did Braedyn want to hook up with him? He stared at Braedyn's lips, imagining it. They weren't Ryan's lips, but they were nice lips. Maybe they would help him forget.

"Deja is a good one for you," Braedyn said. "You have similar interests, you know? I'm sure tonight was a fluke. You'll have lots of chances to try again. I mean, we all live on the same floor. It'll be impossible not to bump into her."

Jacky touched his mouth to see if he was still smiling. He wasn't. He looked down at the beer between his legs. Hell, Braedyn might not even remember tomorrow.

Instead he lifted the beer and took a sip from the warm dregs of it and winced.

"I'm gay," he said, maybe a bit too loudly, because a few heads turned to look at him. He did not look at Braedyn. He looked straight ahead, where Billy was lying on the floor very clearly ogling Brody O., who had unfortunately put his shirt back on.

"That's cool, man," said Braedyn. "Is that why they roomed you with Liam?"

Jacky blinked and turned to Braedyn. "Who's Liam?"

"Uh, your roommate?"

"Oh. Yeah." If he had to call Billy by that pretentious name, he would need to switch to another room. "I mean, no. I don't think they just shove all the gays into one room."

"Yeah," Braedyn said quickly. "Of course not. God, get me drunk and I'm almost as bad as Brandon." He offered a crooked smile.

"You're fine." Taking a deep breath, he realized he needed to pee. Like, immediately. He wiggled off the bed and tossed the empty can toward the trash.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you—"

"I juss gotta pee." Jacky paused at his own slurring and focused on the door before staggering in that direction.

"Ok, cool. Are we cool?"

"Sure," Jacky said, waving his hand.

He stumbled to the bathroom and took the longest piss of his life, then staggered to his dorm room and fumbled through taking his pants off. His phone hit the ground and he picked it up and threw it on the bed. Finally, down to his boxers, he climbed up into bed before remembering he hadn't brushed his teeth. He closed his eyes, deciding that was too much work.

The room kept spinning.

He opened his phone and managed to unlock it after several attempts, and opened Instagram before remembering why he hadn't been on that app all day: all his friends – all Ryan's friends – were posting pics of their dorm rooms and selfies of their new roommates and friends and the parties they were at.

That was the last thing he remembered before waking up the next morning.