Hannah was sitting in the local watering hole with Melody and Blanche; they were grazing on a pair of dilettante lattes and a couple of pastries and talking about metaphysics.

One of the other customers, an upperclassman with Greek letters on his jacket, came over to them just as Hannah and Blanche were beginning to get into an argument about dialectical materialism.

He sat down across from Melody. “Excuse me,” he said to her, “I think you owe me a drink.”

“Why?” Blanche asked in the most disgusted tone of voice she could manage.

“Because,” the Greek said, eyes still locked on Melody, “when I saw you from across the room I dropped mine. It was a rum and Coke, and I’m Gabe.”

Melody grinned and blushed; Blanche rolled her eyes. “We were in the middle of a conversation, you know.”

Gabe cast a sidelong look at Melody’s tablemates. “Your ‘friends’ here don’t let you say much, do they? You haven’t gotten a word in edgewise all afternoon, I bet. Want to come with me? I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

Still smiling, Melody nodded with the giddy energy of a schoolgirl and got up.

“Don’t worry, ladies. I’ll bring her back on one piece,” said Gabe. He held open the door and they walked out together.

“That guy must be a brain surgeon, cuz he’s got a lot of nerve,” said Blanche, looking after them with a sour expression. She turned to Hannah. “How long do you think it will take before he realizes that Melody’s your imaginary friend?”

“Oh, I think he’ll find out soon enough,” Hanna laughed.