A/N: Are you a man or a mouse?

Fun fact: I've never read Mice & Men but I love the idiom.

As always, enjoy x

Saturday 5th November, 9.45am, Douglass Hall, Emory University

Girls were different. Taylor knew that from a biological perspective but it was a different thing waking up to one – by choice this time. Case in point, Zahra's roommate hadn't come home from whatever party she went to the night before but her bed was perfectly made. Theirs must have been the cleanest room on campus and didn't have that stale sock smell either. As usual, Zahra was in two minds; having asked him to stay because she wanted intimacy but, curling up in a protective shell because she was afraid of her own body. Deep down, she didn't count on Taylor being patient enough to stay with her if she couldn't give him what guys wanted, not much longer anyway.

"D'you think I'm weird?" She asked, because she definitely did.

He knew it was one of those trick questions girls asked that had no right answer. "I think you're hot."

She tried to tell him she was being serious. "Taylor-"

"Hot. Just…hot." There were missed calls from a private number on his phone, which were probably from his grandad who no-one outside of Virginia liked.

"What's up?" She asked, showing once again how oddly perceptive she was.

"It's nothing big, I guess. Just family stuff."

She rolled over to face him, not that there was much room. "I know about family stuff. It's messy."

"Yeah. It's like a big black hole and all the secrets are down there."

"Some secrets you don't wanna know, Tay." She said knowingly and with regret.

He disagreed. "I know your secret. And I see you the same. Just braver." Zahra smiled, but it didn't console her because she didn't believe him. "You want me to go, huh?"

She nodded because it was starting to get awkward and she didn't understand her own feelings; of affection, of love, and of paralysing fear. "Okay." Taylor chose his words carefully. "You know it's okay, right? Like…it is what it is. And I'm only going 'cause you asked me to." That thought had never crossed her mind until then.

10.04am, Paul's House, Elmhurst, Queens

Jeremy didn't have a subtle bone in his body and had swiftly made himself welcome at his son's house, frying up a calorific breakfast while playing Zapp and Roger on the docking station. The Saturday newspaper was already read and he left the dripping spatula on it. Gina knew her man wouldn't take it well to see another man was wearing his slippers and drinking his favourite coffee considering the locked horn situation he was having with John. "How'd you sleep, Jeremy?" Gina asked, because this stay was supposed to be temporary.

For once, the old man didn't have something offensive to say. "Slept like a baby. You did alright for yourself, son. Must've cost a grip."

Since he ate the last of the turkey bacon and eggs, Paul settled for cereal instead. "What'd you want Pop? Money?"

"Why? You offering? Last I heard you're still stingy as hell."

Gina fished around in her coach's jacket for her car keys because her breakfast would be bought on the way on her 11am practice and she was going to fill her day with dance, friends and shopping until Jeremy was gone on her return. "We got in late last night; I would've made you breakfast."

Jeremy loaded the toaster with four slices. "I'm no trouble, show me a fridge and I'll whip something up. Don't tell me my son still can't cook. Like I use to tell him; steam the rice, don't drown it."

Gina bit her lips together to keep from laughing because it was true. "He's alright in the kitchen. I have class so I'll leave you to talk."

Jeremy waved, watching her leave. "Good God. Where'd you find her?"

"When are you leaving?" Paul asked, extra grumpy from his cold breakfast.

Jeremy didn't expect a warm reception but he didn't expect a frosty one either. The Paul he knew was lukewarm; neither hot nor cold, just there, not making his presence felt wither way. It never crossed his mind his son shrunk because he felt small in his presence; like he did today. "When I see my grandson, he has to show up sometime. Like Thanksgiving."

The prospect of 3 and a half more weeks living in close proximity to his father gave Paul dangerous thoughts. "I wouldn't've come if you just picked up the phone like a man and invited me." And we're off. "Besides, I'm getting old. Gotta make sure Taylor turned out alright after she sent him to that white school."

"First of all, stop looking at Gina like that; there's nothing for you over there." Jeremy raised his hands in surrender because he son finally got some bass in his voice. "Second, you can't stay here; this is my house, so come Monday I'm getting you a ticket back to Norfolk or Portsmouth or wherever you're staying. And third, stop badmouthing Joss; no-one wants to hear all that."

Jeremy believed in the power of small victories. He often pushed his son waiting for the day he pushed back; that still hadn't happened but at least this was a step in the right direction. "You know what, you're right about Gina; guess it's been too long, son." Paul nodded, unaware that would be the one-and-only highlight of his father's stay. "But I got a one-way ticket for a reason, like you got a one-way ticket when your bougie bougie Joss kicked you out on your ass and you had no place to go but home, Pauly-Paul." Paul was triggered by the effeminised 'nickname' his dad called him when he was being emotional, or human, as a child. And as a teen. And as a broken soldier sleeping on his couch because he had nothing; no wife, no home, and no money. "So I'm not going nowhere 'til I see Taylor like I said. And last, that girl never respected you, your family, or where you come from so be loyal if you want to. And a fool." Jeremy took a considered pause. "Maybe it's that shrink, Susan, messing with your head." Paul felt his shoulders drop in shame as he shrunk into a 10-year-old boy because he was so exposed. "Yep. I saw the calendar last night. Anyway like I said, I'm no trouble; I'm just me."