Liselle's birthday slipped into memory as time rolled on.  Indeed, the
whole month of 'January 1967' slipped into nonexistence, a month filled with
big changes for most parties involved in this account.  Memory can be a
tricky thing, however, and certain aspects of that initial few weeks were
best left forgotten in the dust that would cover the later dates in January
in the year 1967.
     That's not to say the new roommates-particularly the Monkees-were not busy;
as usual, something went terribly awry in the boys' pursuit of fortune and
fame.  A boxing promoter had convinced Davy that he could be a
champion-despite the slightly smaller than average height of the young man
in question.  The other three Monkees, being naturally suspicious of such a
promoter, discovered that all of Davy's fights were fixed.  It resulted in
the usual defeat of the antagonist, and the guys returned home triumphant.
     Two days later, January turned into February, the month that lovers wait
for and pessimists despise.  Since the group of seven roommates contained a
few of both, there was a range of feelings as Valentine's Day loomed.
     Micky was intent on getting Mike to ask Lucia out on a date while also
worrying whether Davy and Liselle would ever be serious.  Davy found himself
still spellbound by Valleri Matthews and gradually forgetting Liselle,
though he overcompensated by doting on Liselle.  He did not want to be in
love with Valleri; that was something best left in the past.  Mike was fully
aware of Micky's desperation toward getting him to date Lucia just as much
as he was aware that he wanted to-which angered him more than Micky's broad
hints.  Liselle was discouraged by Davy apparently losing interest, since
she enjoyed playing with peoples' psyches; but she had a crush on Micky that
was growing with every day that she saw him.  Athena was still adjusting to
living with the Monkees, considering that she had not been a maniac
beforehand, so romantic pursuits were still the furthest from her mind.
Alicia was in a personal agony over Peter and his relationship with Valerie
Cartwright-particularly the fact that she had become Peter's confidante;
fortunately, Micky seemed to have both figured out her heartbreak and taken
her under wing.  Peter was still deeply in love with Valerie, but her mother
was still causing enough of a rift that his romantic life was in an unhappy
lurch.
     It was Liselle who brought up that they had a few dates before Valentine's
Day to think about.  "C'mon, you guys, don't the 11th and the 13th ring a
bell?"
     General gasps of understanding rose from the other young people and they
glanced outside, where Liselle had intentionally left Peter and Alicia to
toil.  "We forget their birthdays." Davy said in an awed little voice.
Liselle nodded.
     "And since she threw me a party, I'm gonna throw her a party." Liselle said
eagerly.  "A bigger one."
     "She doesn't like parties." Athena, Davy, and Mike intoned.  Micky shook
his head.
     "She just has to loosen up, that's all." He informed them.  "I'll make sure
she'll have fun."
     "There, thank you." Liselle said, smiling brightly at Micky.  "He's got it
straight."
     "What about Pete, though? Are we gonna have two parties a day apart?" Mike
asked, frowning.  "We don't have enough money for that-"
     Suddenly, there was the sound of the door slamming and Peter and Alicia
burst in, carrying the mail.  "Liselle, Athena, we got our letters!" Alicia
enthused, handing the envelopes to her compatriots.  Peter was carrying the
usual load of bills and advertisements that came for the Monkees, looking
happy despite that.
     "You got a letter, Mike." He said brightly, handing the letter to the
bewildered Texan.  Mike stared at the letter, turning it over again and
again.
     "From who?" he muttered to himself, checking the return address.  His
chocolate brown eyes widened in surprise and a small gasp escaped his mouth.
     "Who's it from?" Davy asked curiously, peering at Mike past Micky's
shoulder.  Mike chuckled, his shock still apparent.
     "Serena.  My Serena." There was such affection and warmth in his tone that
Liselle couldn't help but be surprised.  She had no idea who Serena was, but
whoever she was, she was important.  Micky was grinning from ear to ear and
he cuffed Mike on the shoulder.
     "And you said she'd never write you." He teased, peeking at the envelope.
"Aren't'cha gonna open it?"
     "I guess so." Mike replied, sliding his thumb under the flap and ripping
the envelope open, pulling out a piece of folded paper.  As Mike unfolded
the letter, a small photograph tumbled out and landed on the floor, where
Liselle instantly stooped to pick it up.
     It was a picture of a young woman with long, wavy black hair and blue-gray
eyes.  Her skin was exquisitely pale and she had a heart-shaped face that
was cupped in one slim hand.  Her smile was mischievous and secretive, her
lips a lovely pink.  Liselle turned the photo over to see if there was
anything on the back, and, sure enough, the words 'To Michael with
Love-Serena Louisa Blake' were written in a tentative, terse handwriting.
     Liselle handed the picture to Mike, who smiled when he saw it.  "Who is
she?" Liselle questioned plaintively.  Mike's wistful smile didn't fade.
     "Serena Blake is my ex-girlfriend.  She moved away." He gazed at the
picture, his face, for once, an open book.  Clearly he still loved Serena;
perhaps, Liselle wondered idly, there was something to that old adage about
absence making the heart grow fonder.  "I miss her." Mike murmured, letting
his guard drop long enough to admit to still loving her.
     As he settled onto one of the psychiatrist's couches, mouthing the words of
the letter, his roommates pulled away slightly, leaving him at peace in his
own reverie.  Davy, Micky, and Peter went about their own business, smiling
at each other and nodding in Mike's direction every so often; Liselle
collected her two female friends and retired into her bedroom to discuss
their 'letters.'  After a great amount of discussion, the girls emerged to
find the house as they left it; quiet and lethargic.
     Mike's letter had been put away in his room, and Mike was sitting on the
bandstand with his guitar in his lap.  He was quietly playing parts of
'Sweet Young Thing,' crooning the lyrics softly to no one.  Micky was
sprawled on a psychiatrist's couch, softly singing any random song that came
into his head.  Peter was nowhere to be seen, and Davy was seated beside Mr.
Schneider, the 'Advisor,' telling the huge ventriloquist's dummy his
problems.
     Liselle shrugged and disappeared back into her room, telling Alicia that
she was going to work on a story idea she had.  Once in her room, she
flopped onto her bed, exalting in the privacy having her own room allowed
her.  That was the only place she could freely think and feel, without
worrying about keeping up with what was going on.
     She sighed, thinking of the life that they now led.  They worried about
rent-Athena in particular-and it sometimes almost seemed that it would be
better to go to school.  Liselle's mind snorted with disgust at that
suggestion; anything, short of being dead, was better than school, and even
then, when given the choice, Liselle would rather die than go back to
Creighton Middle School.  The seventh grade was something best left behind,
and though the years in between might be missed, it was far better to be
suddenly twenty-one than stuck at thirteen.
     Strangely enough, Liselle didn't feel much different than she had at
thirteen, except for this tweaky little something that always spoke up with
a certain rationale that hadn't quite been there before.  Or the sudden
lower intensity of some emotions and the higher intensity of others.  The
relapses into immaturity aside, Liselle merely felt like a few extra years
had been added on to her life, a feeling compounded by the fact that the
memories from what was supposed to be 'eight years ago' felt like they were
eight years ago.  Her life before the change had the slightly murky quality
of longtime memories, and other memories, like when she and Alicia initially
became friends in fourth grade, were even further away.
     "I need a nap." Liselle said aloud, rolling over for comfort.  She lay
there for an hour and a half before a troubled sleep finally overtook her.

     Mike sighed, straightening his collar for the tenth time since he had put
the shirt on.  Micky chuckled from his corner of their bedroom.  "Don't
worry, Mike, she'll like you anyway."
     "Shut up." Mike growled.  "I ain't in the mood for your jokes t'night, got
it?"
     Micky held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  "Don't yell at me.  At
least I'm not prancing around you and laughing at your unreasonable
nervousness."
     "Unreasonable-" Mike whirled around, his hands dropping to his sides.  He
stared at Micky, who was grinning cheekily up at him from his bed, in utter
disbelief.  "I am not unreasonably nervous!  Peter was more nervous with
Valerie'n I am with Lucia!"
     "We expected it from him." Micky said bluntly, his eyes betraying exactly
how serious he was.  "Not from you."
     Mike resisted the urge to sigh as he ambled across the room to sit beside
his best friend.  "Everybody gets nervous, y'know.  I'm human too."  He
stared at his hands, twiddling his thumbs together and releasing his sigh at
last.  This was one of the times that Micky seemed frighteningly vulnerable,
that he changed from being the jocular young man Mike knew to a frightened
little boy that was desperate for approval and guidance.  Mike was really
not in the mood to boost Micky when he getting ready for a date.
     "Look, Mike, I'm sorry.  I'm only joking!" Micky bounced back to normal
almost immediately, punching Mike's shoulder affectionately.  "I expect
every juicy detail when you get home, okay?"
     "Well, you won't get details." Mike retorted, cuffing Micky lightly.  "I'm
not gonna kiss'n tell."
     "Ohhh!" Micky waggled his eyebrows suggestively and crossed his eyes.  "Are
you planning on kissing her?"
     Mike rolled his eyes and checked his watch.  "Look, Mick, I gotta go.  Don't
burn down the house."
     Micky widened his eyes in feigned shock.  "Why are you talking to me?
Liselle and Alicia are the ones that burn pictures in the bathroom!"
     Mike opened his mouth to ask exactly what Micky was talking about but
changed his mind.  He really did not want to know.  He stood and started for
the door.  "See you later, Micky."
     "Love you too, Muffin!" Micky called after him, and Mike rolled his eyes.
He yanked the door closed behind him, a not-so-subtle way of telling his
best friend to shut up, and started down the stairs.
     There was a certain tension downstairs that Mike couldn't quite put his
finger on.  Davy was playing tiny bits of a random song on an acoustic
guitar, though there was nothing out of the ordinary about that.  Liselle
was upstairs in her room and Athena was reading in the kitchen; all that was
perfectly natural.  It came down to the pair sitting on one of the couches;
Alicia had an arm around Peter's shoulders and they were conferring quietly,
their gazes locked on one another.  Mike felt that particularly strange;
Alicia had more of a 'hands-off' personality with everyone but Liselle.  He
drew closer to the two of them, leaning forward slightly.
     "You're sure you don't mind if I take the car?" Mike asked Peter
uncertainly.  The other man turned to him, his expression drawn and sad, and
shook his head.
     "No, I don't mind."
 Mike stared at Peter for a moment before shrugging.  "All right.  See you
later, Pete.  Bye, Alicia."
     He turned and left the commiserating friends behind, wondering for a moment
how Peter and Alicia had gotten to be such good friends so fast; Peter was
more the naïve, innocent type and Alicia seemed pretty jaded.  But Mike had
bigger fish to fry that evening; namely, Lucia Perez.