"Don't worry," Frank murmured as the two crossed the mall's parking lot toward Mr. Pizza. "They all want to see you."

"It's just been so long…"

"Don't talk to me," he snapped. "Just relax, all right? I'll stay close, at least for awhile. Just let yourself have some fun, okay? Laugh a little. They won't ask you how you did it like Callie did."

As they reached the door, Joe felt himself slowing.

"I don't know, Frank…"

"You can do this. You will do this." Frank stepped through the door and beckoned his brother.

The younger Hardy drew a deep breath and stepped through the door, instantly assaulted by the smells of cheese and tomatoes, spice and steak. So many good memories, warm, intimate memories, were attached to this place—times after school, after a meet, on dates—him and his brother, him and his friends, him and Vanessa—

Van.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and then he scanned the restaurant awkwardly, finally spotting the once-familiar group in their normal corner. Phil, Tony, Biff, Callie, Vanessa and Chet were splitting pizzas and talking, ignorant to the boy approaching them.

Chet raised a slice to his mouth and stopped dead, his eyes locked on the hesitant Hardy.

"Joe!" he cried, leaping up and rushing toward his friend, wrapping him into a bear hug. "I can't believe…I'm so glad you're here!"

"Hey buddy," he murmured, returning the embrace.

"My turn!" Callie cried, leaping to her feet.

"Me next!" Phil announced.

Joe looked to Frank, who settled into an empty seat and cast his brother a knowing smile as each of his friends took turns hugging and complementing him. With one exception.

"Hi Joe," Vanessa Bender murmured, smiling at him warmly. Joe stared at her, the moment of elation suddenly wavering.

"Van," he murmured, recalling her stepping onto the porch, dressed and beautiful with a new boy at her side.

You can do this.

The others were watching the two awkwardly, relieved when Joe finally smiled.

"How are you?"

Relief painted her face. "Okay. Good, actually."

"Enjoying college?"

"Yes."

"That's good."

"Sit down," Chet said, gesturing to the pizzas. "Eat something. There's plenty."

"Tell us about school," Phil urged, settling back into his chair.

"Not much to tell," he murmured. "I think I might transfer, actually."

"To where?" Tony asked, pulling a slice loose and handing it to Joe.

"I don't know," the younger Hardy said slowly. "Maybe U of Michigan…if you feel you can put up with me."

Now everyone's faces collapsed into relief.

"My roommate's leaving next semester," Chet said eagerly. "Maybe you can room with me."

"That'd be great."

"Only one qualification."

"Oh?"

"No electric guitar playing at three am. Or, if you have to play, learn more than one line of a song."

The others laughed. Joe smiled, relaxed, and recalled his brother's advise, quickly losing himself in the unforgotten rhythm of his friend's conversation, joining in when he could. It was not until dessert was being passed around that he thought to look to the chair and found his elder brother gone.