"What are you watching?" Jake demanded of me as he walked into my room. I hadn't heard him come in, which was odd, because I was usually pretty aware of whenever the front door opened. Then again, I was pretty distracted at the moment.

I answered his question with a smirk. "Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders."

He chuckled and sat down next to me. It wasn't the kind of thing Jake would watch on his own, but he was a guy, and it's not like he was going to argue. "You're pathetic," he said as he got comfortable in my chair. "What's..."

"Uniform fitting," I replied robotically. "I like that redhead."

"That one's cute," he mentioned. The girls on the screen changed so quickly it was hard to keep track, but I was fairly certain he was talking about the little blonde. I say "little" not because she was particularly small, but just because she was the youngest of the group, and it showed. She looked like a 12-year-old to me.

"That's Abigail, the high schooler," I told him. "I don't like her; she's a brat."

"You know they're probably all brats," he replied.

I didn't like him talking about my Erica Jenkins that way, but really couldn't argue with the hypothesis. "Shut up," I muttered.

"You watch this regularly?"

"When I notice it's on." He was smirking and shaking his head. "Oh come on, Jake, don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

"I think..." He trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking I needed a girlfriend, but he didn't want to say it in case I took offense.

The truth? I probably would have, but I wouldn't have shown it. But the fact that I knew what he was thinking was just as offensive as it would have been if he said it. I was never the kind of guy who wanted a steady girlfriend, though. I'd been on a few dates here and there – okay, only three, with three different girls. It was kind of pathetic when I thought about it, but it's tough saving the world. In fact, all the dates I'd ever had were before the Yeerks came into our lives. Once they did, my love life – my very small, almost microscopic love life – vanished.

A lot of times I think it wouldn't have if there were another girl on the team for me, but there's not. Jake's got Cassie, Tobias has Rachel, and me? The lone wolf.

I'm just not really much of a romantic guy, and no matter what girls say, that's what they want. Even Xena would appreciate a dozen roses if the right hawk sent them to her. I'm not stupid. I know all women appreciate that stuff. But I'm just not that kind of guy, and I've never wanted to commit. It seems weird to call a girlfriend a commitment, but for someone like me who's never had it before, it is a step up. Which just goes to show how afraid of commitment I really was.

"Yeah, I know," I muttered back to him. "How do you feel about a seventh member?"

He smirked. "Don't even joke about that. You know we can't."

"I know, I know."

"What are they doing now?"

"Etiquette lesson. Abigail's coming up again."

"Who?"

"Your girl."

We continued watching the girls try to eat their French Onion Soup while looking elegant. The little girl grabbed the cheese with her fingers and the eating Nazi blew the whistle on her.

"How did you know?" he asked me.

"I've seen this one."

"Then why are you watching it?"

Etiquette was done, and they were back at rehearsal. Erica was dancing. It was to country music, but still. "Shh. My redhead's on."

"The one next to her looks old."

"Yeah, she's like thirty." I didn't know how old Erika Jo actually was, but she was way older than my dear Erica Jenkins. Besides, she looked thirty. Or more.

That's when my dad walked in. He took a look at the 100-pound blondes dancing in sports bras on the TV and said, "woah, what are you boys watching?"

"Marco's watching the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders," Jake supplied.

"Hey, you're watching it, too," I added. I turned to my dad. "Oh, stop looking so disappointed. There are worse things we could be watching."

He smiled and nodded. I knew my dad would be cool with it in the long run. "That's true, but don't you still think this kind of thing kind of objectifies-"

"Hey, I watch it for the art," I explained. "I've learned quite a bit about dance technique from this show."

"And food etiquette," Jake added helpfully. I smiled.

"Yep, and etiquette."

Dad sighed and shook his head, then took a good look at all the girls lined up dancing in the gym. Still shaking his head, he asked, "So, which one's your favorite?"

"The redhead," I replied right away, smiling now. Yeah, I knew he'd come around. "Her name's Erica Jenkins, she's like twenty, I think. She's great."

"I like the high schooler," Jake added.

"They got high school girls in this show?" dad demanded.

"Only one, but she's a senior," I explained. "Have a seat, dad. Stay awhile."

He shook his head, but he was still smiling. He was amused, and I knew it. "If your mother saw you watching this..."

"She'd laugh, too," I finished. I glanced over at Jake. He was uncomfortable.

Jake didn't like it when my dad and I talked about mom. He never did, not even before the war. He thought it was supposed to be some kind of big taboo thing, a subject so sensitive that it should never be brought up. He didn't understand that it was comforting for my dad and me to mention her once in awhile. It reminded us that the other one still thought about her, still loved her. It was comforting to know she was still special to each of us. He didn't get that, so whenever she got brought up he didn't know how to react.

"Well, I suppose I can allow this," dad said. "But you know, if-"

"I know, dad," I muttered. "We're probably not even going to finish this."

"Are you guys going over to Jake's?"

"Or Cassie's," I answered. Dad raised his eyebrows and wore a mischievous smirk.

"You spend a lot of time at Cassie's," he said.

I think I almost threw up. "Ew, dad, please." I shook my head and looked at Jake. He was trying really hard not to burst out laughing. "Way not my type," I said.

"Well if you're not interested in her, who are you interested in?" he asked.

"Erica Jenkins," I replied firmly. She was the only girl I had time for at the moment, what with killing aliens and all.

"That girl?" She was the closest to the camera at the moment. Her smile was amazing.

"That's her."

"Looks a little plain, don't you think?"

It was her long, straight hair. I'd noticed it, but her face and body far outweighed the hair problem. Of course all the girls had great bodies, so I looked for the differentiating factor: faces. Erica was absolutely gorgeous, and yeah, her hair was freakishly long, but she could always get it cut. I would convince her a couple weeks into the relationship.

"She's not plain," I replied, a little too defensively. "That's a good-looking woman, right there. Her hair's just too long."

It was at this point I realized Jake was looking at me like I was the lamest thing ever. I probably was the lamest thing in the room, anyways.

"When you've analyzed her like that, it's time for you to go outside," Jake told me. He hit my shoulder. "C'mon, let's play basketball."

"You're like a foot taller than me," I replied.

"I'll play on my knees."

"Shut up."

Jake laughed. "Seriously, man."

"Let's play Galactic Warrior," I replied with a smirk. "Then we'll see who's laughing."

"You know you're five times better than me at that," he said. My dad shook his head and walked out the door. He'd done his job; make sure we're not doing drugs, and make a comment about how we shouldn't objectify women.

"I'll play with a hand behind my back," I tried.

"You need to get outside."

"You're never going to beat my high score with that attitude."

Jake paused and leaned forward, looking out my door. When he was sure my dad had rounded the corner, he asked, "What about the mall?"

I frowned. Was this a hint? "You mean like... the Gap?" I tried.

"No, no, Ax just wants to go to the mall."

"Why?"

"Do you have to ask?"

I considered this for a minute, then snapped my fingers. "Cinnamon buns."

"I thought I'd be nice and take him, but I need you around if I'm going to keep my sanity."

I nodded. Erica wasn't on screen anymore, and as long as Jake wasn't going to humiliate me with his jump shot, I could stand tearing myself away from the TV. Besides, malls have arcades, and arcades have Galactic Warrior.

So I stood up and grabbed some quarters off my dresser.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jake asked me. "I never said yes to video games."

"I just want to be prepared." He shook his head, stood up, and turned the TV off.