The rest of the week was uneventful. No weird or awkward conversations, and I had yet to meet any other counterparts from my time before retirement, which I couldn't say I was particularly sad about. I tried not to think about the times on other earth's, and the reason I was gifted this retirement to begin with.

But just because I was enjoying the munatany of a sense of normalcy I had missed all those years, didn't mean I had prepared for all the things college entailed, specifically, the question Sarah asked me as I walked through the door after class on Friday.

"Will you come to a party with me?"

"A what now?" did I hear her right? A party? Me? Of course I knew I heard her right, but that didn't make it any more surprising. What did she want me at a party for? I certainly didn't look the part.

"A party! I know it probably isn't your ideal friday night, but I was invited by some upperclassmen, and I want to go to try and make friends and stuff, but, you know"

"It's dangerous to go to parties alone, especially when you are invited by strangers." My voice took the tone of a parent, and i gave her a stern glare. I already knew why she asked me, but i wanted to reinforce how bad of an idea this was.

"I know, that is why I wanted to know if you'd come with me?" she looked at me hopeful, with eyes I would have probably regarded as puppy-dog in nature, if it weren't for her other fox-like creatures.

If i trusted that she wouldn't go alone, or could find someone else she trusted to go with, I probably would say no. The fact of the matter was, she was here in front of me now, asking me to a party she obviously knew I wouldn't want to go to, so she had either already asked anyone else she trusted, or didn't have anyone else she trusted. Either way, whether she knew it or not, she had me backed into a corner.

"Sure, I'll come, but only if you promise me something."

"Are you going to ask me not to drink? I know I'm only 18, but this is college. Sure statistically speaking less people binge drink than each person thinks statistically binge drink, but almost nobody actually waits until they're 21. I certainly didn't."

I sighed. I wasn't going to be able to keep her sober there whether I wanted to or not, but I could still maintain control in this situation. "No, I'm not gonna ask you not to drink. I wouldn't expect anyone to be able to remain sober there," or want to be, I added to myself. "Just promise me no drugs, not even weed. I know you are an autonomous adult and can make your own decisions, but I would feel better to know that the only person I will know at this party will not be mixing substances."

"I can do that. No drugs, and you promise you'll come?"

"I don't really think I have a choice"

What happened next was eerily familiar. Sarah took out pieces from her bottom drawer, before handing them to me. I put them on without complaint, knowing better than to argue. Soon I was clad in a black bandeau under a white sheer top, and black shorts. It wasn't much, and I knew I wore less on runs, but that wasn't for the express purpose of being seen. And it wasn't the amount of skin showing that made me uncomfortable, it was precisely where it was showing skin. When i was on my runs, it didn't matter who saw my tattoo. If they could read it while I moved, and could identify me through the light of dawn, they probably deserved to know that much about me, but this party was specifically so people could meet others at the beginning of the year, and even if they couldn't read it through my shirt, they would certainly ask about it, just like Sarah did.

"Hey, you have a tattoo? What is it?"

"Oh, it is just something in case of emergency. It's a medical thing."

"Oh, ok." I was so thankful. There was a reason I felt that she knew better than to ask, but for probably similar reasons I knew better than to pry.

We continued our preparation, with little protest on my part as Sarah did my makeup. It always felt funny on my face, and I never could quite get the hang of it. It wasn't like I didn't own any makeup, or never did it myself, but with the loss of my dominant arm it became a difficult challenge, and a hard habit to develop, since i hadn't in high school, spending most of my days with a face under a mask.

It felt kinda silly, dressing up for something I didn't want to go to in the first place, but even with how fucked up my late adolecence and early adulthood had been, there was still alive in me a girl who could get excited in being all dolled up and pretty, and I did look pretty damn good.

Although I was easily overlooked when next to Sarah, but that was irrelevant. Plus if I wanted to keep my roommate totally safe at this party, I needed to remain unassuming.

"So what kind of party is this?" I asked, making some conversation, and trying to get my bearings on the situation. Bank heist, criminal capture, or college party, having a clear description of the circumstances helps tremendously with ensuring the safety of all involved.

"Oh, its supposed to be a house party, so it might be crowded, but there probably won't be a ton of people there. It isn't a frat party, if that's what you were wondering. These guys said it was a tradition they picked up from their older friends back when they were freshmen, and they like to invite as many people in their classes as they can, knowing that a lot of people will refuse, not wanting to start the year off with a party, which is exactly why they do it, so they can have a super big party before workload starts getting too heavy, that way nobody gets super behind by missing a whole two days of study time."

"They told you all this?"

"They kinda gave a pitch to my whole table in intro to theatre."

"I see." we sat in silence a minute, before I checked my phone. I didn't expect any messages, though I did have a few replies on a post I made earlier in the week on PHO, and was more just checking the time. "It's about half past 7, when and where is this?"

She took a moment, looking up directions in her phone. "It's about a 10 minute walk from here. Do you want to get an uber there or-"

"We can walk there. We probably will need a ride home, but there isn't any use getting one there. We both can walk just fine."

"Alright, well they told me 8, but we probably don't have to be exactly on time."

We left soon after. A rumble in Sarah's stomach deciding that we should invest in some food beforehand, as none had been promised at the event. It was closer to 9 than it was to 8 by the time we arrived (although not by much). They had obviously planned for a party, with quite a few chairs on the lawn, and a few coolers. The music was audible from the front yard, but not so much that I thought it would be a physical force in the house. It didn't seem to be a dance pop song, more something just to put everyone in a good mood.

"Alright, first we should probably say hi to the hosts before going to get drinks. I know this is a house party but my mom used to say that etiquette is what separates us from beasts, and plus I should probably introduce you to the people who invited me." She dragged me by my hand. Through the small crowd on the front porch. Once inside, we took a scope of the layout, Sarah, trying to find her classmates, and me, looking at all viable exits. I felt a tug in my head, almost like a feeling someone was looking at me, and I whirled my head in the direction of the couches, the feeling growing ever stronger until I looked directly towards it. As my eyes feel on the spot I thought the source came from, Sarah started pulling me towards the same couches. The location of the feeling in my head was a mop of red hair. The second my eyes landed on him, his head shot up, and he looked me straight in the eye. He looked strangely familiar, but I wasn't given very much time to process that point.

"Hi Steven! I brought my roommate. I hope that's ok!" Sarah greeted one of the people lounging on the couch.

From who responded, I could guess the redhead wasn't Steven. A brunette stood up to shake my hand, "Hi, I'm Steven! Thanks for coming." He had a goofy grin on his face and soft brown eyes. He looked kind and warm, the kind of person that people like to be around, which is why I felt so bad, just staring at his hand.

"Umm, hi, I'm Taylor," I stuck out my left hand, waving with my right arm to show why I couldn't shake with it.

He didn't skip a beat, reaching out with his left, before chuckling nervously. "Wow, whoops. Didn't mean to put you on the spot there Tay."

"Hey, where's Daniel?" Sarah cut in, saving me from the awkwardness of everyone realising at once that I was an amputee, not that I was ashamed with it, but most everyone got awkward around amputees, and I was hoping to go farther into the evening before having that much attention directed at me.

"He went out to get ice for the jungle juice. He forgot to grab some last night, and our ice maker can only work so fast you know. No one wants hot jungle juice." He pointed out a giant bowl of a punch, which I was wary of, but I spent years staying alive trusting my instincts, and my instincts told me that if anyone was going to ambush us at a party, they wouldn't start at 9 with the already super potent alcoholic abomination that all party-goers were probably going to partake in at one point or another "Speaking of which, do you want some?

As I was about to decline, Sarah squeezed my arm and spoke over me, "We'd both like a cup, thanks." and whispered, leaning in "Trust me ok, it'll be fine. We have each other."

"Ah, yeah."

As he walked to the kitchen, getting two cups out of one of ten bags of plastic cups, he spoke back "Dennis introduce yourself."

The redhead faked a scowl at Steven, before he turned to us. "Hi, I'm Dennis, the third roommate and the reason they can even have this party." he increased his volume for the second half of his statement, pointedly aiming the statement towards Steven, rather than us.

Steven gave us both cups, and Sarah began drinking from it almost immediately. I was much more hesitant. My first sip revealed it tasted like liking the orange juice off my fingers after using hand sanitizer, but after a few gulps a soft warmth began to fill me, and my limbs felt slower, not quite like being underwater, but as if they suddenly became twice as heavy. At some point Sarah grabbed my cup and refilled it, as the conversation moved forward. People told stories of crazy professors, funny moments, and near death experiences, of the latter no one seemed to have more than one. I made the decision at the beginning of the first story not to tell any of mine. There were too many to choose one, anyways.

The room filled with more people, and held a steady flow, between the drinks and the backyard. I was about halfway done with my third cup when I felt a pressure. I knew I had hit a breaking point. "Uh, is there anywhere I can go to pee?" I cursed my drunk mouth for such awkwardness.

Dennis jumped up, "follow me, I'll show you."

He led me down some stairs and through a bedroom. When I came back out he was still there, just sitting on the bed, his chin resting on his hand as he stared off into space

I didn't have the best control of the words in my mouth. "Hey do I know you from somewhere. Like are you in one of my classes or something?"

"I doubt it, since I'm a graduate student and you're a freshman." He looked at me thoughtfully.

"Are you sure? Because you look really familiar" I blushed, realising how dumb I sounded. "Sorry, I don't really have any experience with alcohol."

"Really? Well that's not uncommon with freshmen. Eighteen year old's can't exactly purchase it after all"

"I'm 21"

"No kidding." He paused for a moment again. "Then why are you a freshman?"

"It's a- it's a long story"

"I see" he looked off into space again, to which I took as an invitation to leave and join Sarah back upstairs. I was only halfway across the room before he called out, "Can I ask you a question?"

I froze, readying myself for a fight.

"Are you a Cape?"

It felt like the wind knocked out of me, but all the same I was aware of each breath that passed. I had to play dumb.

"What's a Cape?" Ok not that dumb. "I'm just joking, but really why would you ask that?" And why would you expect me to answer?

"I don't know. I just kinda, felt it, like when you walked into the room I knew I…"

"So you're a Parahuman?" I asked. It was obvious. Why else would he care or know to ask?

"I - uh… yeah. But I don't have my licence yet."

Parahuman licences. Something different from Bet. Rather than have organizations, or at least until they set them up, Parahumans could apply for a licence to practice their power In their day to day life, so they can be monitored for abuse of power, like medical or private investigator licence. It seemed to me like a subtle way to keep a list of all known Parahumans and Parahuman abilities, but that seemed to be a good exchange for lessened Parahuman crime.

"Well, I'm not a Parahuman, no." I started up the stairs before turning back around. "But I did know quite a few, so if you ever need to talk."

"Uh yeah, actually can I get your number?"

"Yeah."

The rest of the party was boring compared, maybe because I stopped drinking after that. Sarah wasn't ready to go, but we had stayed for long enough that she seemed satisfied to leave when I told her I was ready to. With that we started our ride home.