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Jeff opened the door, looked at the bed in the corner, and shook his head. How could it be that she was always here? And did they do anything else? The tails poking out from under the blanket writhed and wrapped around each other, the shapeless sheet falling and rising. God, the horny youth of America could be so exasperating.

"Yo, Oli."

Jeff hurled his pillow at the bed, eliciting squeals from its occupants. Two matted faces rose from under the blanket; Oliver's ears were flushed and Renee's hair fell ragged across her face.

"Jeff, what -- what's going on? Get out of here!"

"I live in here dude. You want privacy, warn me next time."

"Jeff --"

"Ahh, fuck it," Renee muttered, reaching for her shirt. She yanked the baggy top over her head and climbed out of the bed. The shirt hung nearly to her knees. Decent again, she sat on the edge of the bed. Oliver sat up with the blankets pooled privy about his waist.

"Well?" he asked, looking at his roommate. "Did you come in just to stare at us?"

"Jesus man, calm down," Jeff said. He fished around his desk, overturning books and knocking off useless belongings. "Have you seen my keys?"

"I'm sure they're right there," Oliver closed his eyes and fell back on the mattress. "I can't believe this is happening right now."

Renee leaned over him and rubbed his leg through the sheet. "Stop worrying. I haven't left yet."

"Neither has he," Oliver groaned.

"Here they are," he said, the keys jangling from his finger. "Hey, uh, d'you happen to have your copy of the Mix in here?"

"What do you need that for?"

"Mine broke," he said.

"Grave news indeed," Oliver said, sitting up. He had a genuine look of distress on his face.

"Wait, what's this? 'The Mix?'" Renee looked back and forth between the two.

"You haven't shown her the Mix?" Jeff gasped.

"Hey man, I haven't -- I haven't had time for that."

"How many times have you banged her? Dude, it is the perfect sexin' playlist!"

"It's the perfect everything playlist; that's what it's designed to be."

"I'm confused," Renee said, "And slightly offended."

Oliver waved her comment aside as he tried to explain.

"It's," he began, snapping his fingers, "It's... Imagine the best playlist you can."

"Right."

"Now imagine an even better playlist."

"Sure..."

"It's better than that," Jeff broke in, his excitement palpable. "I mean -- it cannot get any better. It literally can't. It's unlit."

"Unlit?"

"Sure. Unlit. Off the chain. Radical."

"Yeah, but... Unlit?"

"Don't listen to him," Oliver said, "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Unlit is a legit term and you know it."

"If anything's unlit, it would be the playlist."

"You see?" said Jeff. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Sounds pretty... Exceptional," Renee sounded unconvinced.

"Promise me that you're going to sit her down and make her listen to the whole thing, okay?" Jeff looked at Oliver. The fox, forgetting his earlier annoyance, nodded in complete agreement.

"I can't believe I haven't done this earlier," Oliver said, still nodding and nodding over and again.

"Neither can I," Renee muttered. She thought, I'm sleeping with an idiot.

"And next time you --" Jeff pounded his fists together. Renee rolled her eyes. "--Make sure that you've got it on. Full volume."

"I don't need to hear it from you," Oliver nodded again.

"Aaaaand... I still need to borrow your copy. You got it in here?"

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah. Broken, dude. Sorry. I need yours."

"It's in my car," Oliver held one hand to his forehead.

"Oh, yeah. I get it. I'll just take your car then."

"Hey, hold on --"

"Thanks dude. Here, take these," Jeff brought an arm swinging up, lobbing the keys at Oliver; they hit the fox square in the face.

"Ow, shit!"

"Thanks a million, bro," before Oliver could stop him, the wolf snatched his keys from his desk. The fox leaped up to stop him, clutching the blanket around his waist.

"Hey, don't --!" he tripped, landing hard on the carpet. Jeff froze in the doorway.

"You okay dude?"

Oliver mumbled a response, speaking into the ground.

"I'm surrounded by fools," Renee said, pulling up her pants. She strode past Oliver and then Jeff, and out the door.

"Look what you did," Oliver said, lifting his head up. His eyes were narrow and the fur on his face was flattened and tangled.

"Look what I did? She's your girlfriend; if she ain't bangin' it's your fault."

"Whatever."

"Listen, I'm sorry. Can I take your car? Is that okay?"

"I guess. I'm not using it."

"Hey, tell you what. Tag along with me. We can go pick up some In-N-Out burgers."

"You deny me my sex and try to patch it up with In-N-Out?"

"Y-Yeah. That seems about the gist of it."

"Well. I guess there's worse trades."

"You're coming?"

"Just let me get my pants."

The Mix? It's only the greatest fuckin' accomplishment I've ever had. Oli too. No matter how many cool things the two of us did -- or will do -- this one tops 'em all.

Don't believe me?

Evidence A: Tracklist

1. The Downfall of Us All - A Day to Remember
2. Fell In Love With a Girl - The White Stripes
3. Date Rape - Sublime
4. People Are Strange - The Doors
5. Jumper - Third Eye Blind
6. Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers
7. The Rock Show - Blink-182
8. The Warmth - Incubus
9. Longview - Green Day
10. Buddy Holly - Weezer
11. Amber - 311
12. One Love - Bob Marley
13. Badfish - Sublime
14. Adam's Song - Blink-182
15. Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys
16. Waiting For My Ruca - Sublime

Evidence B: Did you see evidence fuckin' A? I mean, need I say more? And before you say, "That playlist seems a little Sublime heavy," well, those were all Oli's contributions. And he will fight you if you question them. You'll win that fight, of course, but hey -- conviction, right?

Anyways, I stick by his choices. They're pretty damn fine picks by me, and I know there aren't really any deep cuts, but... I don't think we could have come up with a better playlist. Not without a bigger CD, that is.

Jeff liked to think that he was a pretty cool person. Oliver didn't want to be the one to tell him that smoking rolled cigarettes didn't make him any cooler -- that smokingdidn't make him any cooler -- so he didn't. Jeff rolled up a cigarette and lit it with a match and Oliver thought, There is a certain glamor to smoking... Or, there can be. But nothing about a seedy, grungy, twenty-something wolf who hasn't properly bathed in weeks makes smoking look appealing.

He took a drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke out and into the living room. He caught Oliver staring at the smoldering stick and held it up.

"It's just tobacco, okay? Nothing else."

"What?" Oliver snapped to attention. He had not been paying attention, had not even been looking at the cigarette for that matter, but had gone wandering in his thoughts. While he spaced out his gaze had focused on the cigarette, tip glowing orange whenever the wolf inhaled.

"You paying attention? Jesus. I said it's just tobacco. Or is all smoking forbidden?"

"It's -- It's still smoking. Rian doesn't... Fuck it, whatever."

At that moment, the front door opened, and Rian came striding back in.

"Rian!" Oliver leapt to his feet. "Listen, Rian, I --"

"Shh," Rian held a finger to his lips. He approached the fox and hugged him, and all the wolf saw was Rian's head nestling beside Oliver's. Lifting his muzzle up to Oliver's ear, he whispered, "We'll talk about this later. But I don't want to make a big deal of it. Forget it for now."

"You sure about that?" Oliver whispered in reply, "We can talk now. I can send Jeff out --"

"Not now. Please."

"Okay."

Jeff, still processing the skunk's sudden arrival, waved his cigarette about.

"Guess I'm expected to put this out now, huh?" he said.

"Go ahead and smoke it," Rian said.

"That was an awfully chipper response," Oliver said. "I didn't know you could be so nice to him."

"Shut up," Rian grinned, kissing his mate on the cheek. Jeff grimaced.

"Aww, fuck it," the wolf ground the barely smoked cigarette into the bottom of a bowl he'd used as an improvised ashtray. Rian's face was one of a subtle victory.

"I can tell we're going to get along just fine," he said.

"And fuck you," Jeff growled.

"Remember, you're a guest," Oliver said, picking up the ashy bowl and emptying it into the trash. He stuck it into the sink.

"Oh, you won't let me forget it."

"You don't sound grateful," Rian mused.

"I don't have to be grateful to you."

Oliver said, "Disrespect him and you disrespect me." He put an arm around the skunk's thin shoulders.

"How's that supposed to work?"

"Just make it work."

"You're a damn fool, Oli. You know that?"

"I know it. Now make yourself useful around here."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means," the fox said, pushing his friend towards the door, "If you're going to be staying here, you're gonna have to show for it. Go pick us up some lunch. I need a moment to myself with Rian."

"I swear to God, if you're sending me out so that the two of you can fuck, at --" he checked his watch, "--11:45 on a Saturday morning, you are going to regret it."

"You're in no position to make threats. And what we do in our private time is for our eyes and ears only. You can't do anything but speculate."

"Like hell I want to speculate about that."

"We just want to talk is all."

"Well what do you want me to pick up?"

"I don't know, you decide."

"Oli--"

"Goodbye, Jeff," he pushed the wolf out the door, tossed out his backpack, then shut the door and locked it.

"Rian --" the fox started.

"Save it," the skunk sighed. "I said I didn't want to have this conversation right now. Can't it wait till later?"

"We need to have this conversation right now."

"Do we?"

"I'm not going to keep seeing her."

"I'm having a hard time believing that one."

"How do I prove it to you?"

"For starters, you could go ahead and tell her."

"I will."

"But?"

"But not yet."

"Do you know what this would do to her if she found out?"

"You seemed to take it well."

"I seemed to take it well?"

"Considering."

"Right. Considering."

"She'll be okay."

"No, Oliver, she won't be okay."

"Well she's going to react the same way when I tell her, no matter when I do! Do you understand why I haven't been able to do it yet?"

"I understand," Rian sat down on the couch, wringing his hands. "I understand. I -- I just -- just wish you hadn't done this to me!"

"To you?"

"Don't act naive! This is as much a slight to me as it is to her."

"I don't understand, am I hurting you or her?"

"Both!"

"So who am I fixing this for?"

"For everyone. Don't you get it? If you tell her... Well, at least you'll have told her. But if she finds out on her own... That's something else entirely."

"I know that already; but how do you tell your fiancée that you're leaving her? And not just leaving her, but for another guy?"

"Carefully," Rian said, "And maybe you don't have to mention that last part."

"I have to give some sort of reason for it. I can't just up and say goodbye."

"Think of something. I know you can. You'll have to."

"It's not easy."

"Nothing good is easy. But it'll be worth it... Won't it?"

Rian's almost pitiful look was endearing. But Oliver thought twice for a moment. Would it be worth it? He could not deny that he was in love with the skunk -- of that he was sure. His every thought was of Rian's happiness, even if he'd had trouble expressing it. But what good was love? His parents didn't know that he had been seeing Rian -- they knew of Ashleigh and his engagement, although they barely knew the girl. Rian was a name they'd never even heard before. What he did know was that they'd have a hard time accepting a homosexual relationship -- and if accepting it was hard enough, he knew they'd never support it. His parents weren't the only ones. Jeff already expressed an almost overwhelming amount of negativity towards the idea (yet had, in practicality, seemed mostly okay with it, something which still baffled the fox). He didn't want to cut off his potential for healthy friendships with other people. He wasn't sure he could handle that.

"Y-Yeah... It'll be worth it," when Oliver spoke it was a wisp. The words so quiet even he barely heard them.

"That was an awfully long hesitation. And you don't sound too certain..."

"I'm just scared; can't you understand that?"

"I understand this perfectly. It's hard. But it's something that we're all going to have to deal with now..."

Oliver knew it was true and it was what scared him most. He could not undo things. He could not go back and stop his relationship with Ashleigh from forming, or that of his relationship with Rian. What time had wrought was set in place. Fixed and immutable. There was no escaping his fate. All that he had left was to face it, that great wave of an uncertain future bearing down on him faster and faster, threatening to smother him and all he knew.

I remembered seeing Colin on that day at the beach, seeing him with Rian, and assuming the worst -- that the two were already a couple. True, they would wind up getting together (and not long after), but for that night he was still single. I realized that later that night; Renee, who I wasn't sleeping with yet, was the one who informed me. She was but another tenuous connection the two of us had shared for years. What she told me that night was the first step leading towards Rian and I eventually getting together. It's strange to think that, in a way, she had started it all.

"Hey Oli," Renee said, the wolf sauntering up to him. She wore a faded crop-top the color of a summer peach, her purple shorts stopping mid-thigh. A string of beads around her neck bounced when she walked. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just trying to survive," his friendly grin betrayed a serious discomfort. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You make any new friends?"

"Trying to, at least."

"Who've you met?"

He answered sarcastically, "Ahh, let's see -- there's just so many, it can be hard to remember -- hmm, there was Richard, some guy named Duke... Who else? Ah, yes, there was a skunk named Rian..."

"Rian, eh? You finally met him?"

"What do you mean 'finally met him?'"

"He's the guy I always tell you stories about. The guy in my Bio-Chem class who has absolutely no idea what he's doing."

"He's that guy? He seemed much more competent in person."

I'd nearly forgotten about that. For much of the first semester Renee had been telling me stories of the boy in her Bio-Chemistry class who she'd been working with during labs. Every story she told me focused on his seeming aptitude for messing things up -- a sort of inability to properly chart work, plot graphs, or even do basic math. The boy of her stories had seemed woefully inexperienced in all aspects of life, but maybe that was just the way she overplayed his ineptitude.

"I hope you didn't take my stories too much to heart. They're only, like, seventy-five percent true," she smirked. "And he's actually a really sweet guy. We hang out sometimes."

"Yeah? What's he like?"

"Oh, you know. He's a little reserved, but tries really hard not to be. Which makes him even worse. But I've seen him talking to more than a few people here. He must feel a mess inside. He's not particularly suited to big, social situations."

"Do you like him?"

"You mean, 'do I want to sleep with him?'" she laughed.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"I'm sorry for laughing. You wouldn't understand. I couldn't get with him even if I wanted to. He's gay."

"Gay?"

"Yeah. That one's about as straight as the rainbow. Why the interest? You don't like him, do you?"

"You mean do I want to sleep with him?" he repeated, mocking tone sharp. "I'm sorry, Renee. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"He's single too. And looking, I hear. At least, he always sounds like he's looking, the way he talks." (I felt a thrill when she said this.)

"That ain't my style. I'm gonna have to pass on this one."

"No? I always took you for the more open-minded type."

"Big difference between open-minded and open-bodied."

"You've got me there," she said. "I'm gonna go grab a beer. You want one?"

"No thanks," he said, "You go on ahead."

The way I saw things then was that Rian was mine. I didn't know how I would do it, or how I would hide it, for that matter (and there was no question about that -- I would have to hide it), but I knew that I would have it figured out before he left. I was still musing over my predicament when it practically solved itself. I looked up from the sand and saw Rian strolling towards me. He lifted a hand and waved uncertainly.

"Hey," he said, "Oliver, wasn't it?" His hand froze mid-wave, faltering, lowered. "I'm sorry, I haven't mistaken you, have I?"

"Nope. That's me," the fox said. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just a little bored, and, well, trying to make friends."

He looked uncomfortable. God, if he only knew how much my heart was racing! I didn't know what to say. Here he was -- reaching out to me! -- trying to be my friend! And all I could do was stare in dumbfounded silence. This was my chance and I wasn't sure how to take it. I extended the invitation awkwardly; it was the only way I knew how.

"Uh, yeah. You wanna go hang out for a while?"

If I could have seen the look on my face -- well, suffice it to say, I wouldn't have gone with if it had been someone else asking me with a look like that. Apparently he saw through my pained grimace to the friendliness underneath, because he said:

"Y-Yeah. Sure."

I thought I was in the clear, and then he added, "Am I making this awkward?" Which must have been the right thing to say, because I suddenly stopped worrying and started laughing.

"Not at all," Oliver said. "Not at all." Just like that, the tension was diffused. Only a little, but that was enough to prompt his response. He must not have been as shy as Renee said. That, or he was really good at overriding his impulses.

"So, um, which dorm are you in? Or do you commute?" Rian asked.

"I'm in Hope Hall. You? Or do you commute?"

"I'm in Hope too. What floor are you on?"

"Second."

"Ahh, I'm the fourth."

"Can't say I've seen you in the building before..."

"Might just be because I'm so high up," Rian looked aside as he spoke.

"Might just be."

Oliver kicked a stone into the waves as they walked and he watched it sink beneath the surface. Each bouncing ray of light caught him in the eyes one after another and dazzled him with the power of the mid-evening sun. Rian's eyes were trained on the horizon. The two halted where they were with the pier a short distance to one side and the festivities a while to the other. They stood and gazed upon la mar, her beauty in her simplicity and her breadth. The lapping waters would stroke the sands long after both were gone.

"You said you wanted to write books?" Oliver asked, after a time.

"Y-Yeah. That's the plan."

"Bet you read a lot."

"I do."

"So then, what's your favorite book?"

"You must not read a lot, to ask that question."

"I read enough."

"I don't have a favorite book."

"How can you not have a favorite book?"

"You really must not read. Not a lot. Not a lot a lot."

"Okay, but if you had to answer the question."

"If I had to answer the question? Probably... A Farewell to Arms."

"That's..."

"Hemingway."

"Never read it. Or anything of his, for that matter."

"Well I absolutely recommend it if you ever need anything to read." "What's it about?"

"A WWI soldier who falls in love with his nurse."

"That's it?"

"There's more but it would spoil the book if I said anything."

"And that's your favorite book?"

"It means a lot to me. I read fantasy too, but that's just for fun."

"What kind of fantasy?"

"Steven Erikson, Ursula K Le Guin, some others. Do you even recognize these names?"

"No," Oliver admitted. "But I will next time I hear them. So you're kind of like, a huge nerd, huh?"

"I suppose you could say that."

By now we were already on the pier. The sun was almost three quarters of the way through the sky and the sea threatened to end her journey, snuffing the magnificent light and plunging the world into the cool seduction of night. Underfoot the pier stretched far out over the blazing waters, the pale orange skies clashing with the darker line of that fiery sea. Couples stood on the wood and waited through the final legs of the day; night was their time and they waited eager to claim it. A smell of salt filtered through the wood and mingled in their noses and filled the air with a sweet, dry tang. At the base of the pier was a restaurant and a bar and Rian motioned Oliver over to the bar where the two sat down.

"What'll you have?" he asked the fox.

"Um. Whatever you're having."

"Two mojitos," Rian said, "With Campari."

"Could I see an ID?"

Rian pulled a wallet from his back pocket and showed the bartender his ID, and I eyed the skunk curiously as he put the wallet away. I hadn't known he was twenty-one. And if so then what was he doing in Hope Hall? That dorm was for freshmen students.

I guess Rian's ID was enough because he didn't ask me for mine and anyways I was barely nineteen. I wasn't sure what I'd do if he asked.

I was a little surprised at Rian's drink of choice -- what college aged kid asked for fucking Campari? -- but it made him seem a lot more sophisticated. I knew I shouldn't be impressed by that sort of thing, but I was. When everything had been properly mixed, the bartender garnished each with a lime wedge and served them to us on napkins. I was hardly an experience drinker and had no idea what to expect; it was dry, and cold, and bitter as hell. I sipped at it slowly. Rian drank it with gusto, in two long gulps, then ordered another. Loosened up, he didn't drink the next quite as quickly, but still took a sip. Then he looked over.

"Do you like me?" he finally said.

"What?"

"I figured you probably wouldn't want to spend so much time with me unless you had your eye on me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it."

He drank his mojito and paid for it and stood up as if to walk away.

"Wait a minute," Oliver said.

"What?"

"I don't want you to go."

"I'm beginning to feel confused, Oliver."

"Okay, you're right."

"I'm right?"

"I like you. How's that?"

"I'm not sure."

"Come on now. What's all this about?" Oliver said.

"You're right. I won't leave just yet. I'm sorry."

They walked to the end of the pier and the sky was turning dark and blue and inky. Around them the song of the night swelled, building into a gradual background climax. The swish of waves and clatter of knives and forks against plates and laughter at the bar at the beach at the campfire and all around the lilt of wind and far off the dismal sound of cars passing on the road and somewhere a skateboard clacked up and off the ground and was yanked back to Earth and the sounds of the bonfires crackling, their greedy tongues licking out and reaching towards the clouds while the night edged on and on and on.

"What am I supposed to do?" Rian asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't know either."

"I think I like you."

"I know. I do too."

"But we barely know each other," he said.

"No we don't," Oliver agreed.

The skunk put his arms on the railing and leaned out, his face a promontory in the bracing air. White hair swayed around his ears and eyes and his eyes closed in a grimace. He turned towards me.

"I'm going to do it," he said.

"I'm not ready," I told him. And I wasn't.

"Neither am I."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You haven't done it yet," I said.

"I'm scared."

"I'm scared too."

"Okay."

I could feel his hand against my back and he seemed unsure of himself. God knows I was, even if I had my hands around his waist. We waited there and the tension was so great that when it happened I almost didn't feel it at all. Because there was no change. He kissed me all warm and wonderful and nothing had changed. The clouds overhead and the laughter all around and the fires crackling on the logs on the beach and the tightness in my chest. I felt his kiss and reveled in it and returned it but I still felt scared and confused and there was no relief which I had been seeking.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Exactly the same," Rian said.

"I know what you mean," I said. And I did.