"DJ, what do you have to say to Alex?"

"I'm sorry," she says, "for what I said, and for getting egg all over your super cute Star Wars shirt."

I narrow my eyes at her, and she doesn't back down. We're both showered and changed into fresh clothing now, our hair devoid of eggs and our consciences obviously devoid of guilt. Her apology is as fake as her press-on nails, and we both know it.

"And Alex? What do you have to say to Deej?" Jesse turns his attention to me, his body positioned between me and DJ, as if ready to step in if things get violent.

"I'm sorry," I counter, still not breaking eye contact, "for calling you a whining brown-noser."

Her eyes narrow as well. "You never called me that."

"Oh," I feign slight shock, hostility hidden well beneath my tone, "I didn't?"

Jesse turns my shoulders away before we can both snap at one another once more.

"Okay!" he says. "That settles that! Now, guests will be arriving in about five minutes, and Danny should be here with Steph in twenty. DJ, I want you to bring all the presents from upstairs and put them by the fireplace, and Alex—"

The doorbell ringing cuts him off mid sentence, and he looks behind him before back to me "—get the door."

He heads into the kitchen as DJ rushes upstairs, and I swing open the front door, ready to be faced with some child and their mother.

Instead, I'm taken aback to see Percy standing on the front steps, next to a boy that basically looks like a bite-sized version of him, with the same messy brown hair and bright chocolate eyes. I raise an eyebrow.

"I think you have the wrong house — Dorks Anonymous is two doors down," I say dryly, but he cracks a toothy smile regardless.

"Hey, Alex," he says, his tone carefree and unaffected by my words, "actually, we're here for Steph's party. I hit the DA two nights ago."

I just can't get to this kid, it seems. I open the door wider. He's holding a large gift bag in one hand.

"Not sure why you're wasting your time in middle school if you've already mastered the science of cloning," I comment, nodding at the short child, who remains silently staring at me. He's got a rounder face than Percy's, but other than that they're basically identical. He also has a bruised lip, so if I really have trouble telling them apart I guess I can look for that.

"This is my brother, Elliot," he introduces the kid, who's still staring at me unblinkingly. Percy nudges him lightly, "say hi, El."

"Hi," Elliot mumbles shyly, grabbing onto Percy's sleeve.

"Hey," I say, "that's a killer shirt. You like Alien?"

He nods.

"You like the first or second better?" I ask, and he lets go of Percy's clothing.

"Second," he says, and I nod in approval.

"Much gorier," I say, then gesturing to Percy, "are you sure you're related to this kid? He's got terrible taste in movies."

Percy scoffs in mock hurt. "That is so not true."

I raise an eyebrow at him, then lowering my voice and looking back at Elliot. "He quotes the Princess Bride on the daily. You might want to change your last name so people don't know you're affiliated."

Elliot giggles, revealing a smile that's also identical to Percy's, save for a few missing teeth. I look back to Percy, who's staring at me with a small smile and an unreadable expression. I notice that he has a few freckles along the bridge of his nose; it's been a little sunny recently, so maybe they're new. His eyes drift sideways to my hair, and he cocks his head to the side.

"You've got a little . . ." he reaches forwards with one hand, and my whole body stiffens and freezes. Slowly, he pulls something through my still damp hair until he's holding it up in front of his eyes with a frown, ". . . egg shell?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I answer, and he tosses the shell over his shoulder.

"Elliot! Percy!" Jesse's voice calls from across the room, and he looks to me as I remain standing at the door. "You gonna let them in, Alex?"

"I'm considering it," I say, and Jesse ushers them over the threshold. I step down the stairs and back into the living room as DJ comes downstairs with an armload of presents.

"Hey, Percy!" she says happily, dropping the gifts by the fireplace and coming over. She gives him a hug, and I narrow my eyes at them from my view behind her back.

"Hey, Deej," he says, "how's the Science project going?"

"A lot better," she answers, "thanks for your help."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes, instead walking away and plopping down on one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. Jesse has brought out bowls of snacks, and I reach forwards for the popcorn, but he's at my side swatting my hand before I can get a handful.

"Those are for the guests," he says, pointing a finger at me on his way back into the kitchen. I put my hands up in defence, but grab a couple chips the minute he's out of the room.

"You can put your present with the others," DJ says, and they walk into the room fully, Elliot trailing behind and once again holding onto Percy's sleeve. He seems like a nervous kid, but maybe it's because none of his sticky little friends are here yet. After Percy puts his gift down, DJ beckons him over to the couch. She's now wearing a pink skirt paired with a white t-shirt that rides up her stomach when she moves. I hope I wasn't supposed to wear anything nice for this shindig; I'm drowning in my mom's old flannel and a ripped Rambo tank top, my jeans cuffed so they don't drag across the floor. I'm pretty sure they used to be Chris's, but it's hard to say. Clothes would appear and disappear in my household all the time, and I always claimed the stuff I liked. The only thing I wear that's actually mine is my underwear; even my socks used to be my mother's.

"You've got an eggshell in your eyelash, DJ," Percy says, and she brushes away at it.

"Oh, thanks," she says, sounding slightly embarrassed, "not sure how that happened."

Percy looks over at me, and I offer him a mischievous half-smile and a one-armed shrug. He shakes his head, pursing his lips to stop from grinning.

The front door opens before DJ can catch our shared look, and a gangly girl with ringlets hops in. I think she's in my Gym and Home Economics classes, but now that I look at her a little closer I recognize her as the strange girl with the rollerblades that offered me directions to the bus stop when I was trying to make my escape.

"Hey, peeps," she says to the three on the couch, then looking to me and stopping in her tracks. She glances at DJ, then offers me her hand. "You must be Alex. I've heard a lot about you."

I raise an eyebrow, ignoring the shake and instead looking at DJ with an amused smirk. "You talk about me, blondie? I'm touched."

"This is Kimmy," DJ says, ignoring my teasing. "My best friend."

I nod wisely, then turning to the girl. "How much is Danny paying you?"

She shakes her head solemnly. "Not enough."

"Can you not?" DJ snaps at Kimmy, who puts her hands up in defence before grabbing the chip bowl and squeezing next to DJ on the end of the couch.

"Hey!" Jesse says, walking into the room once more and grabbing the bowl from Kimmy. "Those are for guests, Gibbler."

"I am a guest!" she argues.

"Right, and I'm the president," Jesse says, putting the bowl down and heading to the door as it rings once more. I sink further into my chair; I didn't realize this was going to be such a large affair. I expected some nose-picking eight-year-olds running around the place, but this is too much for me already. I can barely stand half the people that live in this house, let alone those who don't.

Jesse is incredibly antsy, checking his watch every four seconds and worried that Steph will arrive before all the guests are here. Ten more minutes pass by with him standing by the door like a footman, but soon he's ushering inside the last child, waving her parent goodbye and watching through the peephole as their car skids off the street. In total, there's around twelve kids milling about, the only boys being Elliot and two others. They don't seem to mind; they aren't yet old enough to really differentiate the company of each gender. A few of the girls bunch together, talking and giggling and clad in so much pink that they camouflage into the backdrop, but most of them sit on the couch or in the arm chairs. I stand off to the side by the fireplace, Percy and Elliot loitering next to me even though I didn't ask them to. DJ and Kimmy are setting up some last minute games in the backyard, and I bask in their absence like a reptile in the sun.

Percy is muttering inaudibly to his brother, and I try to catch snippets of their conversation before deeming it pointless and waiting until Elliot nods and runs off to sit next to one of the other boys. Percy straightens, leaning against the wall beside me and sighing. For a moment, I watch the way his brow furrows, staring after his brother like he's worried about him. I've never seen him look so stressed.

"So, why are you here, anyway?" I ask suspiciously, curious for answers but also wanting to ease his mind off of Elliot. "You really couldn't get enough of me at school, huh? Had to follow me to my house?"

He looks to me and smiles, but it's feeble and doesn't crinkle his eyes like it usually does.

"You got me," he says. "Your relentless insults and bad attitude have me starving for more."

I snort, and he looks back over at his brother.

"He's a nervous kid," I state, following his gaze.

"Yeah," Percy says, frowning, "he is. He's good friends with Steph, 'cause Steph is nice to everybody, but I don't think he feels comfortable around anyone else here, really."

I nod in understanding. "That makes two of us."

He smiles really then, focusing back my way and nudging my shoulder lightly. "Yeah, you're not very good at hiding it, either."

"Not trying to," I answer, surveying the crowd and the way Jesse continues to peek out the peephole. "But it's important to Jesse, and . . ."

"He's important to you," Percy finishes. I shrug.

"Yeah. I've screwed up too many times already," I say, "I figure I can stay for half an hour and then sneak upstairs to the much preferred company of Brontë."

"Or maybe you'll have fun," Percy counters, and I snort with laughter once more.

"At an eight-year-old's birthday party? Yeah, sounds like a riot."

"You never know."

"Okay everybody!" Jesse calls out in a whisper-shout from his stakeout spot by the window, and everyone quiets down. "Find your hiding spots. Steph and Danny are here."

I watch as the children scramble to duck behind the couches and chairs, and Percy starts to move before realizing I'm not budging and grabbing my hand. I let him drag me behind the swinging kitchen door as Jesse turns the lights out and dashes into the alcove under the stairs.

"This seems a little extreme," I say, and Percy shushes me. I roll my eyes. "Steph isn't gonna care—"

He clamps a hand over my mouth, and I freeze again before sticking my tongue out. His hand shoots away.

"Did you just lick me?" he whisper-shouts at me, and I grin with a shrug. He shakes his head, but grins as well as he wipes his hand on my shoulder, still peeking through the crack in the door. Behind us, the back door opens, DJ and Kimmy coming through and seeing us hiding. DJ shushes her friend, and they circle around to the other kitchen entrance, ducking behind the wall.

The front door opens, and in walks Steph, her voice trailing in behind her along with Danny.

"—and then Marcie and I had snacks, and then we played dolls, and then we went outside, and then we saw a squirrel, and then—"

"Surprise!" Everyone jumps out at once, Percy dragging me out as well and shouting in my ear. The lights come on, and Steph looks around in shock, seeing all the decorations and all of her friends.

"Holy moly!" she shouts, and everyone laughs, her friends rushing over to her with glee. I smile slightly; it is pretty cute, and Steph looks ecstatic. She hugs Uncle Jesse tightly, and he looks relieved that everything worked out all right. I stare at them, once again stricken with the intensity of the love and consideration that circulates in this family and once again struggling to not feel like an outsider staring in through a sheet of bullet-proof glass.

"Am I hallucinating? Is Alex McGill actually smiling?" Percy mutters in my ear, and I adjust my expression, turning to the chip bowl.

"Don't cream yourself, Walker," I say through a mouthful of pretzels, and he scrunches his nose.

"You're so lovely."

I grin, my teeth full of snacks, and he shakes his head. Everyone has dispersed now, the kids chattering wildly, and Jesse calls over their heads.

"There are games outside! Follow DJ to the backyard!"

DJ beckons to them, having just hugged her sister and wished her a happy birthday, and they all follow her like a school of fish through the kitchen. Elliot and Steph are talking now, and Percy looks far more relaxed.

"I can't believe I pulled that off," Jesse says in exhaustion, slumping onto the couch and grabbing the bowl of popcorn.

"Yeah, you're a regular Escobar," I say, sitting next to him. Percy perches to my left, and Jesse swats me in the leg.

"You try getting a crowd of eight-year-olds to stay in one place and shut up for more than five seconds," he counters. Danny approaches us and claps his shoulder.

"You did good, Jess," he says. "I'll go supervise the games. Make sure they aren't messing up my lawn."

He disappears into the kitchen, and Jesse closes his eyes. It seems his heavy duties are over with, as now that Danny is here he can worry about the kids ruining his house. The decorations are up, the surprise is done and over with, and Steph is happy. I wonder if Jesse would go through all of this trouble for my birthday; it's coming up relatively soon, but I don't really feel like bringing it up. I look over at all the presents by the fireplace. I've never had a birthday party, and my mother never really got me gifts. On the off occasion that she wasn't too drugged up to remember my birthday, then she would usually find something that I knew had already been sitting around the house, like some old hook-up's sunglasses or hat, and give it to me as if she bought it herself. The only ever new item I got was from Chris, and it was an Eric Clapton cassette, but my mom smashed it one night when he blew her off because his grandma was in the hospital. Birthdays were never really a thing in my household. I always got my mom something — mind you it was usually stolen — but she more often than not would sell it and use the money to buy more drugs.

This whole spectacle, with all these people here to celebrate one life, is so foreign to me. I couldn't imagine anyone giving me this much love and attention just for being born, and to be honest I'm not sure I'd deserve it if they did. Plus, Jesse might care about the fact that my birthday is next month, but I doubt anyone else here would want to lift a finger for me. I don't feel inclined to tell him and find out.

"So, you two in any classes together?" Jesse says, opening his eyes back up and leaning forwards. I glance at Percy.

"Math," I say shortly, and Jesse raises his eyebrows.

"Well, Perce here is a little genius. I'm sure he's helping you loads," Jesse says. I smile through grit teeth.

"Oh yeah, he's a saint."

"Is she doing any better?" Jesse asks Percy, and I turn to him, widening my eyes in a silent demand that he lies through his teeth.

"Yeah, she's doing great," Percy says. I smile and turn back to Jesse.

"See? Nothing to worry about. I've got the hang of it."

"Just like I said," Jesse says, and his face lighting up with pride makes me suddenly feel nauseous. He pats my knee. "That's my girl. Never give up — that's the Katsopolis way."

I smile, but when he looks away it falters. I feel bad for lying, but I can't disappoint him any more than I already have, and I'm not sure my grade in Math is ever gonna get any better.

"Well," he says, standing up. "Back to it. I've got to order some pizzas."

He pats my knee one more time, and I feel like folding in on myself as I watch him head to the kitchen. I can feel Percy's eyes on the side of my face, boring holes through to my brain like superman.

"You haven't told him about your grades?" Percy asks. I don't answer, instead examining the threads that are poking out of the couch cushion like they could spell out the answers to all my troubles. "He's gonna find out eventually, you know, and then it'll just be worse."

"No, he's not," I say, turning back to him. "Because you're not gonna tell him."

Percy stares right back. "Maybe not, but if you fail, he'll get a call from the school."

I feel my stomach drop. I didn't realize that was a thing. At my old school, the teachers didn't give two shits about our success rate, or our attendance for that matter. Although I've missed years of my education, coming back to classes like English and History have been a breeze, because all I used to do with my free time was read. Even Science I know a fair bit about just from the books I've been through, but there are no novels I've read that explain math formulas, and missing years of that class has put me in what seems like a hole that I can't dig out of. I'm too far behind. I don't even know how to do simple equations, let alone the stuff we're learning now; and once you're behind, there's no catching up. Things are only going to get harder, and unless I go back to square one, I'm going to be stuck here forever.

"My offer still stands, you know," Percy says. "I can tutor you. I'll even give you the first couple hours free, and—"

"I don't need any favours, Walker," I snap, leaning forwards and crossing my arms. "Just because you spend all your free time in Jazz Band and the library doesn't mean the rest of us have to subject ourselves to your sorry life."

He looks slightly taken aback, and I don't give myself any time to regret what I've said. I stand.

"Just do me a favour and stay out of my business," I say. "I didn't ask you to butt in, and contrary to what you may think, we aren't friends. I don't need your charity."

I leave him on the couch, feeling the usual irritation I feel whenever someone tries to help me wedging splinters into my chest. I hate people seeing me as some sad case they need to put their two cents into to clear their consciences. I already feel indebted enough to Jesse for letting me stay here, and it's sitting like an itch on the part of my back that's just out of reach. I don't need Percy helping me and burying me deeper in this hole of owing people things. I also don't need him to see just how helpless of a case I really am; he'd spend one minute trying to teach me the equations we're learning in class and then realize I don't even know most basic math. He would just give up on me, I know it.

I stay hidden behind the wall before the kitchen, closing my eyes and sighing. As for the school contacting Jesse, I'll have to figure something out to ensure that he doesn't find out.

The rest of the party goes by smoothly; I avoid everyone, popping into the kitchen to sing happy birthday and then disappearing to my closet and flying through Jane Eyre. For some reason, I'm itching for a drink, but I don't have anything on me, so I'm forced to sneak a cigarette out of Jesse's bedroom window while the kids eat cake downstairs. Then, I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling as the movement continues below me; the same feeling of emptiness has settled in my chest, and the muffled voices feel so far away. I try not to think of my mother, of my upcoming birthday, of the fact that I still yearn for her company even though I know she never had my best interest. At least she understood me. At least I felt like I belonged with her, in that messed up old apartment with the stink of Ricky's barf and Fran's shit somewhere nearby. No matter how many times Jesse reassures me, I don't think I'll ever feel like I truly belong here. I could spend the rest of my life in this closet. I could start getting along with everybody and sitting at the dinner table and even passing Math, but somehow I don't feel like it would change anything. I will never be understood here like I was with my mom. I will never feel like a true member of this family.

The tears don't come. They never do in the late hours of the night when my mind is awake and the house is still. I stare at the wall in the darkness, still dressed in my clothes from the day and not having moved since I came up here. I didn't say goodbye to anyone, and when Jesse opened my door I pretended to be sleeping. I don't feel like talking to anyone. I don't feel like listening. I don't feel like breathing.