"I like brown."

"Andrew doesn't," Nicky said. "Take them out."

"No."

"Please," Nicky said. "No one's going to see you but us, and we already know they're a lie. Don't wear them."

"Or what?" Neil asked.

Nicky's silence was answer enough. Neil was ready to brush that warning off, but he caught himself. He was sure he could hold his ground against Andrew, but he wasn't facing Andrew alone. He was going out with Andrew's entire group half the state away from here. Nicky was honestly trying to help him get the night off on the right foot. Neil didn't think much of that consideration. He knew which side Nicky would take if things got ugly.

"Nine," Nicky said again, when Neil didn't answer, and left.

Neil gave him a few minutes' head start. When he was sure the cousins were long gone, he jogged across campus to the library and killed a few hours scouring the news in the computer lab. He picked up a small dinner on the way back to the dorm at one of the university's three convenience stores.

His dorm room was empty. He dimly remembered Matt saying something about going to the movies with Dan. Neil didn't know where Seth was, but luckily he was still gone when it was time for Neil to get ready. He was alone, but Neil checked the lock on the dorm door before gathering his clothes. The bedroom didn't have a lock, which bothered him, but the bathroom did. He shut himself in there to get ready.

When he was finished changing, he took a long minute to study his reflection. He wasn't sure what to make of the result. No matter how many times he and his mother changed their identities and languages, one thing stayed the same: they aimed for nondescript fashion that would blend in with an everyday crowd. Neil wore faded tees and plain jeans and worn sneakers, generally in pale colors that helped wash him out further.

This outfit was the complete opposite, and every piece of it was black. The cargoes were light and cut to accommodate a pair of heavy boots. The shirt was long-sleeved, tight, and fashioned to look like it'd torn through in places. A charcoal inner layer peeked out through the gashes, hiding Neil's skin, but he ran his hands over the cloth a dozen times to make sure there weren't any open holes. He was sure he could feel his scars through the thin cloth.