Five steps lead up to the four-story, dark brick brownstone, and I swallow hard. I’ll just go in, say hello to whoever, get my plate, and leave.

Or, maybe not. That’s kind of rude.

Taking a deep breath, I walk up the steps. What the hell am I even doing here? Lured by the promise of turkey. God, I’m easy.

Well, not that easy. I’ll share a table with Alex, and anybody else inside that brownstone, but nothing else.

He opens the door for me, and I step into a roomy foyer. To the left is a wide, dark wood staircase. The thick plaster on the cream wall is chipped in places and the worn steps have seen better days. Alex did say they had a lot more work ahead of them.

“Alex? That you?” A voice calls from somewhere in the back of the house. “Who did you bring with you?”

I blink at him. He told them he was bringing me? Well, at least I won’t be a total surprise.

Alex gestures to a large entryway, squared off by dark wood, and I’m ushered into a living room. It’s pretty basic with mismatched furniture that includes an olive green couch, blue easy chair, black recliner and a rocking chair that looks like a dog used the bottom to sharpen his teeth. Old area rugs of orange, yellow and red are on the floor. Even if it is eclectic and thrown together, it feels like a home. Beyond the living room is a huge dining table that seats about twelve, though not all of the places are set, nor do the chairs match the table. I like it. It matches the living room. Beyond that is the kitchen.

At least I’m not the only girl. A blond female is sampling dressing or something but is a bit overdressed in her fur coat. Or, maybe I’m underdressed in my jeans and t-shirt.

The blonde looks up and I gasp. “She’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Who is she?”

Alex snorts. “Zach is gonna love that.”

“Zach?”

The blonde glances at me, and her eyes go wide. “Kelsey Fry?”

Well that deep voice sure as hell didn’t belong to a woman.

Another guy leans over and looks through the doorway. It takes me a minute to remember his name, but I sure recognize the face. “Dylan White?” He’d been in Alex’s class. A year ahead of me. We weren’t friends, but we knew one another.

“Did someone say Kelsey Fry?”

I turn and find Christian Sucato coming down the stairs. Any reservations I felt about coming here just melt away. Christian and I were in the same music classes together and were friends. I missed him when he graduated with Alex and Dylan.

He jumps to the landing and comes forward before picking me up in a bear hug and swinging me around.

After he sets me down he looks into my eyes. His light brown ones are as warm as I remember. “Good to see ya again, Kels.”

“Damn, it’s good to see you,” the cross-dresser says, coming forward before he kisses me on the cheek.

I study his features and slowly I see the guy behind the heavy makeup. “Zach? Zachary Hawk?” I only knew him because he hung with Christian, but Zach was usually doing the theatre thing. He was an awesome actor back at Baxter.

“You got lipstick all over her cheek.” Dylan pushes him aside and uses the dishtowel he’s carrying to wipe my face. Then he turns to Zach. “Go get cleaned up, unless you’re going to eat dressed like that.”

“Hell, no!” Zach hikes his skirt past his knees and heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “My girdle is not designed for a Thanksgiving meal.”

“Take your shoes,” Dylan yells up the stairs. “Before somebody trips over them and breaks his neck.”

A pair of black and red platforms were left in the middle of the floor, and I assume they must be Zach’s.

He runs back down the stairs but someone is following him. “Dammit Zach, can’t you use your own bath for those fucking wigs?”

“Zach designs wigs and hair for drag queens,” Alex whispers in my ear. “When they need to be washed, he fills a tub of water, swishes them around in the water and soap, and leaves them to soak for hours.”

“I had to shower this morning and get ready for the show,” Zach explains as he grabs the shoes from the middle of the floor.

“Couldn’t you have washed your damn wigs after you were done, in your tub?” The person with the voice finally comes into view, and he stops mid-step when he sees me. “Kelsey Fry?”

“Sean Vines?” I laugh. Did everyone who lives here once go to Baxter? So far, they were all in Alex’s graduating class. I knew they were all friends of Alex back then, but they never treated me bad, and certainly not with the hatred Alex did.

“So, you’re Alex’s guest.” Then he frowns. “If anyone would have told me that Alex would be bringing you home, I would have never believed it.”

My face heats. They may have been friendly toward me, but it wasn’t a secret to anyone on campus how Alex and I felt about each other.

“That was a long time ago,” Alex reminded him.

Sean clears his throat. “Of course.” Then he grins at me. “Good to see ya, Kels. Glad you’re joining us for dinner.”

The front door opens and a burst of cold air floods the room.

“I hate crowds, and next time someone wants me to photograph a parade, make sure I say no.”

I can’t believe it. Ryan Stark just walked into the house, and he’s carrying a camera case. Just like he always did at Baxter.

He stops and looks up as shock registers on his face. “Kelsey?”

I just shrug and smile.

“Damn you look good.” He lifts the case and gets his camera out. He’s pointing at me before I have a chance to stop him.

I roll my eyes and hold up a hand to block my face. “Put that away.”

Ryan was probably one of my first friends at Baxter. In the beginning, I was a subject to him. He was obsessed with my pregnancy and my growing belly. He took photos of me every day, at the same time of day, tracking the growth. We used to have to hide from the counselors because he didn’t want my belly obstructed by clothing. When the counselor found out, we were both in trouble, but once he explained it was a study in the human form, and promised not to do it ever again, neither one of us got punished or kicked out of school. However, we were given a very stern talking to about boundaries, respect, and boys and girls not seeing each other’s skin or private body parts. I was eight months pregnant so it should be obvious I knew what happened when private body parts were viewed and touched. Not that I was in a position to get pregnant, but there was a strict no fraternization policy in place at Baxter, and I assume there still is.

Despite the warnings, and chance of getting in trouble, Ryan and I still snuck away so he could take pictures, which he did up to the very day I delivered Brandy.

I never did see those photos, and I’m not sure if I want to.

“Let me get changed, and I’ll get the wigs out of your tub,” Zach tells Sean as he heads up the stairs.

Is he transgender, gay, straight, cross-dresser, drag queen, had a sex change, going to have a sex change? With that deep voice, he’s got to still have his balls, so no sex change yet. Not that it matters. I’m just curious.

“Can I get you a glass of wine, Kelsey?”

I blink at Dylan, still coming to terms with the fact that I’m standing in the house of guys I went to high school with and haven’t seen in almost five years. Alex and I may have hated each other, but seeing Christian, Dylan, Zachary, Ryan and Sean is almost like coming home.