Mike must have wet himself shortly after I found him, because when I took his underwear off of him he was still wet enough that I felt like I should dry him off before helping him put on my pants. There was a white hand towel hanging on the side of the vanity that I used to sop up any lingering traces of pee. However, when the towel made contact with his penis, Mike jumped and squawked like someone had just jabbed him in the ribs. Amazingly, he didn’t take his eyes off that darn ceiling light, not even for a second.

As it turned out, the pants I had retrieved were slightly too small for him. It took some effort, but I managed to get them pulled up his legs and buttoned around his waist however, getting them zipped proved to be a lot more difficult. I made Mike suck in his gut and pull up on the front of his pants while, with one hand, I protected his penis by keeping it away from the zipper, while with my other hand, I tugged the zipper up with all my might.

When I finally had his dry pants on him, I rolled up the wet pair, stuffed them into the vanity behind a stack of towels and instructed Mike, who was using some toilet paper to blow his nose, to retrieve them after the party.

I stood up and faced him. His eyes were red, swollen and still glassy, but he wasn’t crying anymore. His cheeks were tear-stained and he needed to blow his nose again. Otherwise, he was looking much calmer.

I retrieved a rag from under the vanity, soaked it with cold water and washed his face for him. After leaving the rag on his eyes for a minute, they looked much better. With one last blow of his nose, I asked him, “So Birthday boy, are you ready to go back to your party?”

He smiled with just one side of his mouth, nodded and said, “I think so.”

But then, his face became screwed up again, and for a panic filled second, I thought he was going to start crying again, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked me, “Don’t I know you?”

It was my turn to smile and to be cute I said, “The names Bond, James Bond.” But Mike must not have been ready for funny yet because he held that same peculiar expression. “Okay, you got me. I’m not James Bond.” I said, this time taking his hand and shaking it. “I’m Max, Max Riddle.”

But my name didn’t seem to ring a bell for him, so I then said, “I’m friends with Mark from your Judo class.”

That did it. His eyebrows jumped on his forehead. “No you’re not.” He said, “You’re that guy from the hospital.”

“Yeah that was me too.” I said holding my hands up like I was surrendering.

“Yeah, I remember you!” He said pointing at my face, “But you look different without all those red swollen bumps.”

I wish he would have left it at that, but he didn’t.

“You also look so old now.” He said, and then blushed slightly when it dawned on him what he’d just said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like…”

I cut him off, “Ah, don’t worry about it.” I said with a smile.

Absentmindedly, I stroked my own cheek with my free hand while my other hand was still being grasped by Mike.

“You look different too, I mean without your casts and wheelchair.” Of course, I also wanted to say that he looked different without his diaper, but I think that might have been pushing it too far.

Before the moment could become uncomfortable again, I stepped to the side, clicked the lock in the middle of the doorknob and pushed Mike out into the hallway.

Mike kind of tensed up for a second, but I rubbed his shoulders, leaned down next to his ear and said, “Relax, it’s a jamming party! Just go have fun! Oh, and Happy Birthday!”

He looked over his shoulder, smiled and started walking but stopped and turned to face me.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re shirt! It’s a mess!” he said.

I looked down at my own shirt. “Oh, yeah. I totally forgot that someone spilled their punch on me.”

Mike took my hand and lead me back down the hall, past his bedroom door and into what I could only assume was his parents room.

“Are your parents here tonight?” I asked as we stepped into the room.

“They are down in the basement.” He said as he released his grip on my hand and crossed to the wall of mirrored closet doors.

“What are they doing in the basement?” I asked.

“Hanging out.” He said while opening one of the doors and suddenly vanishing inside the closet.

He reemerged a moment later holding a white button up shirt.

“Whoa, is that your dad’s?” I asked, “I can’t wear your dad’s clothes.”

“It’s okay, he can’t wear it anymore. He got too fat for the clothes in this side of the closet.” He said as he handed me the shirt.

I looked at my own stained shirt, then the shirt in my hand before beginning my little strip show in front of Mike.

“Wow, that’s a nice necklace!” Mike commented.

“Oh, thanks. It’s actually my older brother’s but he let me wear it for the party.” I said, letting my shirt fall to the floor.

“Is that his watch too?” Mike asked.

I chuckled at the way Mike was trying to make small talk. “Nah, I got this for Christmas.”

I put on his father’s shirt, which was too big for me. But after I tucked it in and rolled the sleeves up, it didn’t look quite as big.

Now that the two of us were presentable again, we made our way back out into the crowd where he was swallowed up by the throngs of people. Unfortunately, I didn’t see him again for the remainder of the evening. Actually, I had also lost track of Mark and I made a mental note that when I found him, I would thank him for dragging me to this kick butt party. Of course, I never did tell Mark what happened between Mike and me in the bathroom. That’s one secret that will forever remain locked away within the vast recesses of my mind.

The party was still going strong when it was time for Mark and me to leave. I had hoped that Mike would return with our coats, but he didn’t. Instead, that same guy with the green spiky hair brought us our coats.

“Hey man, thanks for coming to my lil’ bro’s party.” He said sounding like one of those stoner guys you’ll find in just about every teen movie.

“Mike’s your brother?” Mark asked, and I was glad he had asked it so that I didn’t have too.

“Yeah, most of the time he’s a real turd, but I guess he deserves to celebrate turning thirteen in a big way. Don’t you?” he asked while scanning the crowd.

“Yeah, this is one heck of a party.” I said.

Then he looked right me. I had completely forgotten that I was wearing their dad’s shirt, so when he said to me, “Oh, hey man, you that dude what helped my lil’ bro tonight?” I think I may have blushed a little, as I shyly smiled and nodded.

He held up his knuckles for me to bump, which I did.

“Righteous! Mike told me about it.” He said, wanting to bump fists again. “Names Ryan, and thanks for being so totally cool about it all, dude. Oh yeah, I’ll make sure you get your shirt back.”

I tugged on his father shirt that I was wearing, “Yeah and I’ll do the same.”

“Nah, man, you keep that. My old man won’t ever miss it.” Ryan said as he handed me my coat.

“Thanks again for coming,” Ryan started to say, “and well, for everything you did for the little turd.”

This time, I held my knuckles up for him to bump and when he did, he once again relied, “Righteous!”

Mark’s mom was already waiting in the car at the end of the driveway. As we drove back to my house, Mark and I didn’t have a chance to talk because his mom was asking us all about the house, what it looked like inside, if we saw any ghosts, and dumb stuff like that. I don’t think she was serious about the ghost stuff but, it was kind of funny to think that even with everything that had happened inside the house, I’d totally forgotten that the place was supposedly haunted. I couldn’t help wondering if I had remembered at the time, if I would have gone back into Mike’s room and his parents’ bedroom. Yeah, I probably would have gone, but I probably would have been a lot more apprehensive, at least more than I had been at the time.