If Neha Patel were in charge of my life, the next morning would have gone something like this:

I walked into work the next morning completely on edge, pretty much just a walking ball of nerves. The kiss with Stuart—or rather, kisses—had been replaying in my head all night. I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, and I was honestly so nervous that I felt like being sick. I'd gushed to Neha about it the moment I got home, but while her total excitement was encouraging, it didn't make me feel any calmer. What was I supposed to say to him? Was he going to say anything to me? What if we just went the whole day without saying anything about it while the memory sat in my stomach like a ticking time bomb? It was a mess.

I didn't have too long to worry about it though. I'd gone in early again because I couldn't pretend to sleep anymore. Lyle was locked up in his office, but no one else seemed to be around. At least, that's what I thought until I collided with someone.

"Oh my God! Sorry, I—oh. Hi, Stuart."

He fixed his glasses, barely looking at me before he turned his stare to the ground. "Hey, uh. Good morning."

"Yeah, I guess…" He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow and I cursed in my head as I felt myself blushing. "Sorry. Not that it's not good to see you. I was just hoping to have a couple more minutes to figure out what I was going to say. Or a few hours."

"Me too, actually," he laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But I guess since we're here… I know that we fight pretty much all the time, but I don't think it's a total shock that I really like you. So maybe we could stop fighting and…I could take you out to dinner sometime?"

I actually felt my heart skip a beat as my face broke into a smile, and…

Disgusting.

Thankfully, my life isn't being written by Nicholas Sparks. So as much as some people probably hope for something like that, it's just a bunch of bullshit.

Obviously, I didn't go home and gush to Neha about hooking up with Stuart. I didn't bother telling anyone. It was an hour or two of making out to pass the time, which wasn't really significant as far as I was concerned. And while I didn't think making out in trees was something Stuart did too often, he didn't seem to think it was all that significant either. We had a silent agreement not to mention it, to the group or to each other. Besides one or two glances from Stuart that I graciously pretended not to see, we hadn't run into any weirdness over the past few days. Everything was normal. Which meant that Stuart and I were still fighting as if that was what we were getting paid to do.

"Come on, Stewie. Just admit that I'm right and I'll drop it."

"You are not right, it was not my fault, and I'm not stupid enough to believe anything that comes out of your fucking mouth. Like you'd drop anything if you thought it'd piss me off."

"Stuart, please give me some credit," I said, letting my head fall back so my hair tumbled down the other side of my chair. I grinned at him, and even upside-down it was impossible to miss his expression of irritation. "You dropped the ball, literally and figuratively. If you weren't so obviously watching me, then you would have seen the volleyball. If you'd seen the volleyball, we wouldn't have lost the match. It's not that I think reminding you pisses you off. It's that I know."

"Do you ever actually listen to yourself?" he spat, and his anger seemed to propel him forward in his seat. "How can you actually survive listening to your own disgusting narcissism? It's revolting."

"Yeowch. Revolting and narcissism? Are you bulking up a college essay there, bud?"

"Oh, sorry, do you need me to use smaller words? I forgot that you don't like to use your brain for anything besides counting drinks and guys."

"Excuse you, I don't need my brain for that. I can count on my fingers. After that, it's not worth keeping track."

Stuart snorted, spinning around in his chair to turn his back on me. "Right. I guess if you actually kept counted of all the pathetic losers you surround yourself with, you actually might have to face what a repulsive wreck your life is."

"Actually, the guys I sleep with aren't that bad. I do have standards, you know. Usually, it's only one or two pathetic losers at a time. For example, the pathetic loser I'm with today is wearing a green beanie and a piss poor attitude."

"Do we really have to do this so early, guys?"

I sat up at Yo-Yo's voice, blooding rushing from my head and warping my vision for a few seconds. I'd known Lyle was in his office, and Neha was watching Netflix on a couch nearby, but I hadn't even heard anyone else approach. I grinned at the rest of the team as they came in. The so-called adults did not seem so amused.

"You guys seriously have to lay off each other," Nick scolded, walking over to the couch will Billy in toe.

"Yeah, I mean, I haven't even finished my bagel yet."

"And is that first or second breakfast, Frodo?" I asked him, earning myself a pointed look. It was a pretty solid reprimand, but I could still tell that he was amused.

"Frodo?" Stuart snorted and glared at me. "He's like the size of five hobbits. Get a better joke."

"That's rich, coming from someone who stole their face from an orc."

"Okay, that's enough!" Nick ordered, waving his hands in the air.

Billy popped the last of his bagel in his mouth and made a beeline for me, pulling me half out of my chair before I could protest. "Come on, sassypants, we're taking a walk."

"Oh come on! It was just a joke! He's got more of a goblin face anyway."

"Emily, walk."

I groaned in protest as he pulled me away from the group, but nobody made any move to defend me. They just watched as I was dragged down the hall, down the stairs, and completely off the floor. Douchebags.

But I refused to let the lack of assistance affect me in any way. I figured running away would probably make whatever scolding Billy was trying to give me even longer and more sentimental, so I just fell into step beside him and let him lead the way. I'd go along with it, let him get all his emotional team-building crap out, and then go back to my life. Play dead, then escape.

Of course, that required Billy actually giving me a lecture. I followed him around the building weaving back and forth between lounges and cafes and offices and courtyards, waiting for him to decide on the best place to give his speech. And waiting. And waiting. I threw him a few subtly suspicious looks, but he just kept walking with a look of determination.

I let it go for a little while longer, until he actually led me out of the building. My eyes narrowed into slits, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket. "Billy, we've been walking around for like twenty minutes. Where the fuck are we going?"

"No idea. You tell me."

"You—You tell me?!" I grabbed his arm and yanked him to a halt. One or two or the people milling around outside stopped to look at us, but there weren't many people to care. None of it stopped me from glaring up at him or raising my voice. "Billy, this is your fucking lecture!"

"Woah, hey, I didn't say anything about a lecture." He held his hands up quickly, and I almost believed the serious face he put on. "I thought we were just gonna walk it off."

"Like hell you were," I snarled. I took a few steps forward, trying my best to get up in his face without thinking about just how drastic the height difference was. To my credit, he did seem at least a little bit taken aback instead of just amused. "This is you we're talking about, Billy. Like you weren't gonna drag me out here to have a heart to heart about team spirit and being a better person and fucking solving world hunger or something. Stop hating on your job! Be a nicer person! Be a team player!"

"Well is it really that bad?" he asked, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Yes!"

"Oh come on, you get on great with Lyle."

"Lyle's an exception," I said, folding my arms over my chest. "I've known him for years and I'm still not that nice to him, so don't hold your breath."

"You're great with Yo-Yo," he countered. "I'd says you're almost friends with Neha, and I know Nicky and I are a bit of a handful, but we've been getting on pretty well too. At least, I think so. A-Am I wrong?"

"Yeah! You are!" I pursed my lips as Billy raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and finally sighed. "Fine, I…no, we've been…fine…"

"And fine is good," he laughed. "Fine is okay! I mean, considering your situation I'm willing to say that fine is kinda amazing, but…"

"Billy, can we please not go there?"

"Wha…? Go where? I wasn't going anywhere."

"Oh hur, hur," I mocked, throwing my arms up in frustration. "Fine is kinda amazing, but…"

"Come on, Emily."

"No! I'm not coming on anywhere. I don't need to hear your stupid little speech about being nice to Stuart, or setting an example, or being a peacemaker or any of that crap."

"I wasn't going to…"

"Right! After you dragged me out of the room with your big, parental 'we're taking a walk'? Bullshit, Billy!"

"Parental?"

I stopped short when I caught the look on his face. Even if he'd been planning on giving me a lecture, he certainly hadn't been planning that. His expression was caught somewhere between blank shock and wild surprise, mouth hanging open and his eyebrows looking as if they were trying to climb up his forehead but didn't quite have the focus.

"Well…yeah," I managed after a few seconds. I folded my arms in front of my again, wrapping my arms around my torso with an inexplicable sense of insecurity. "The whole scolding, disapproving vibe was kinda…yeah…"

"Uh, right. Yeah." Billy cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips as he looked around the yard. "It's just, uh…not something I'm really used to hearing, you know?"

"Because you're usually so goddamn irresponsible in the real world?"

That snapped him out of his moment of shock. He gave me a pointed look, something else I could probably describe as 'parental' if I wanted to. But I just grinned.

"Sorry. But I mean, you and Nick both got it. Here at least. The whole leadership, take charge, work together, life experience thing you've got going. Plus the twenty to thirty extra years, you know."

Billy snorted, and the annoyance melted from his face. "Does this mean we can ground you guys and everything?"

"I'd like to see you try," I said, making him tilt his head in ascent. I watched him for a moment, and the stupid smile on his stupidly nice face. My mouth opened with a mind of its own. "I get that you want us to be some big, happy family, but that's not how life works. I don't even know how I've made it this far without killing anyone, let alone get along. I don't like Stuart, and you can't make me."

Billy bobbed his head in understanding. "I'm not saying that you have to. I'm just hoping maybe we could turn the fighting down a little. I mean, you don't like each other, we get it. So maybe you guys could try and fight like, fifty percent of the time instead of ninety-five. I know it's not easy," he added, laughing a little as my nose scrunched up in distaste, "but could you just try? If you guys keep fighting, the rest of us have to keep breaking you up. Or worse, taking sides. And I think if you guys cool your jets, we could really have a chance at winning this thing."

"You do realize I don't really care about that, right? I'm not an intern. I'm not even a real employee."

Billy grinned, and I could see the disbelief seeping out of him before he even opened his mouth. "Yeah, well, you say that, but I'm not sure you really mean it."

I decided not to dignify that with an answer, but sagged a little where I stood. "Ugh. I don't have to apologize or anything, right?"

"Maybe. Apology for calling him an orc would probably be nice."

"If he doesn't apologize back can I beat the crap out of him?"

"Uh, maybe leave some of his crap in there. I'm pretty sure we need all our teammates alive to get the job. And it'd be a shame if you made it this far into the summer just to get arrested and taken off campus anyway."

"Eh, I could make bail."

Billy laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to his side before I could escape. I was about to yell at him, when an even more unsettling thought occurred to me.

"Did you just make me lecture myself?"

He paused, and I watched in near horror as his face arranged itself into a proud, knowing smirk. "Pretty parental, huh?"

Instead of answering him, I elbowed him in the stomach. He gave a satisfying cough as I broke free, and I grinned at his wince. "Yeah, good job, buddy."

"Ah, you should know better than to try and restrain such a capable woman, William."

My instinctive response to the repulsive accent was to turn around and throw a solid punch to the nose. Luckily, Billy caught me before I had the chance to do anything. He didn't really stop me per say, at least not physically, but he raised a pointed eyebrow and stared down at me. Without words, I was reminded of the conversation we'd had a week or two ago about how I shouldn't let Graham get to me. It'd just be letting him win.

With all the strength I could muster, I kept my arms at my sides. I turned on the spot, offering Graham something I hoped looked like a smile, but felt like an open sore tearing across my face. "I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself, Graham."

If he was taken aback by my use of his first name, he didn't show it. He just kept on beaming his painted on smile, lifting his coffee cup in the air to wave me off. "Of course, Emily. I wouldn't dream of fighting your battles for you. Not when they can be so entertaining. No, I just came over to offer my condolences about the volleyball tournament. That was a rough match you played."

"Well, you can't win em all," Billy said with a shrug.

"Can't you?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, pressing my hands down to my sides so they wouldn't get any ideas about strangling anyone in unyielding frustration. "Maybe if you play like you do. You wanna talk about rough matches, how about that point you won by spiking the volleyball into that girl's face?"

"Oh, that—that was absolutely awful," he insisted. "I felt absolutely terrible. Sometimes I just don't know my own strength."

"Really?" Billy asked. "Cause it kinda looked like you just didn't know the rules of volleyball."

Graham grinned, his eyes flicking over Billy and I from head to toe. It was just another one of his many assessments, but I would've been surprised if the creep didn't have every curve of our bodies mapped out already. Especially Billy, who he seemed to be uncomfortably keen on.

"Well, I best be on my way to the next challenge. We've been doing a fair amount of preparing, but hey, may the best man win, right?"

He held out his hand, and I shared a look with Billy. Reluctantly, I accepted the handshake, stopping just short of breaking any of his fingers off. It probably wouldn't have given us much of an advantage anyway, and we were trying to avoid me getting kicked off campus for excessive violence.

Billy hid most of his suspicions and shook Graham's hand too, and for a moment I thought we might actually get out of the interaction without any douche-induced nausea. But then, of course…

"I'll be seeing you around. Miss Terrell, always a sublime pleasure." He winked at me and took a sip of his coffee, and was walking away before I had the chance to pour it over his head.

I felt Billy pat my shoulder gently, but it didn't do much to stop me from seeing red. "Can I kill him?"

"Uh, no. I—I think we're frowning upon all murder-adjacent activities? So you can't kill him, but…we can beat him at this game he's playing." I glanced back at him and he smiled. "Think you and Stewie can get along long enough for to kick his ass?"

"I guess. Anything to get rid of that fucker. Even if it means working with the douche-wonder."

"Yeah, you should probably start by using his name."

"Fine. Even if it means working with Stuart."

"Atta girl. Come on, buddy."

Billy led the way back to our group lounge on the fourth floor, only for us to realize that there was no one there. We had about five minutes before the next challenge started, and everyone had already headed down to the atrium for instructions. Then I was the one leading, elbowing people out of the way without remorse and clearing a path downstairs. By the time we found the team in the churning sea of interns, Chetty was already stepping up to the microphone.

"Good afternoon, interns. As a member of this community, it is essential that you be familiar with all buildings and departments of the company. Today, your challenge will test your knowledge of our campus. In a few minutes, each of your teams will receive a white envelope. Inside, a list of rooms, people, and notable landmarks on the grounds. Your task is to find them all, and photograph each with a member of your team. You will receive points based on the number of identified locations, the speed of your search, as well as the creativity and skill displayed by your photos. Many of us have worked his for many years. Your job is to make us see our campus in a new way. If you'll each find the staff member who has your envelope, we may begin."

"Yo! Alrighty-do suckas!" Lyle cheered. "Now let's get rollin' and…"

"Actually can we just hold up for a second?" Nick asked, earning confused looks from most of the team as we paused. "You know, we had a bit of a rocky morning, and I think we need to get our heads right."

"Nick," Neha sighed with an indulgent smile. "The whole teamwork narrative is great and all, but do you think we could actually get to the work part?"

"Yeah, of course. Right after Emily and Stuart apologize to each other."

"What?"

"Excuse me?" Stuart asked at the same time. "I—I am not apologizing! I didn't even fucking say anything!"

"Come on, guys," Billy pleaded. "You're constantly at each other's throats, both of you. Now like it or not, you're part of this team. And if we're gonna get anywhere this summer, we're gonna have to work together. All of us."

Stuart and I glared at each other in the silence, which stretched out uncomfortably until Nick cleared his throat. "Right, well, if you don't want an audience that's cool too. We're just gonna…head over to the check point and…we'll see you guys over there when you're ready."

I did my best to stare someone into submission as Nick lead the team away, but no one seemed to care. I even went as far as trying to grab Neha's hand. Billy actually swatted me away, giving me a semi-apologetic, semi-stern look before walking away to join the rest of the group.

"This is fucked up," Stuart grumbled, and I pursed my lips.

"Tell me about it."

"I mean, I didn't even say anything!"

"Um, yeah you did," I said, giving him a sharp look that fell just short of cutting him. "I distinctly remember the words disgusting narcissism and repulsive wreck."

"And I remember you calling me a pathetic loser. You started it."

"Yes, I did. Thank you. But I'm not apologizing."

Stuart let out a snort of disbelief and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't want to apologize either, but Billy and Nick are so high on their own team bullshit that they won't let us play if we don't. So you started it first, you apologize first."

"You know, we really don't have to." I coaxed my face into something that looked like a smile, making him squint at me suspiciously. "Look, if they're stupid enough to leave us over here to apologize on our own, we don't have to do shit. I'm sure they're watching, but it's not like they can hear us. So put on a smile, shake my hand, and let's get back to winning this stupid thing."

He was reluctant to say the least, but after a few seconds of deliberation, his face split into a smile that looked so painful it might actually kill him. He took my hand, and squeezed it until the tendons on the back of his hand stood out. "Emily, you are a raging, fucking bitch. And I hate you."

"Why thank you, Stuart. You are a sad, bitter, little excuse for a man. And I pity you."

"Perfect. Now stop touching me."

In almost perfect unison, we dropped each other's hands and stormed toward the rest of the team. Everyone quickly pretended that they hadn't been watching. Well, everyone except Neha, who offered me an excited thumbs up and a wink when she was sure Stuart wasn't looking. I returned the gesture with as much sarcasm as I could muster, making her roll her eyes.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Lyle called, holding our envelope up in the air. "Circle up and let's get ready to do this shiznit!"

We all crowded around him, jostling each other and arguing right up until Chetty blew the whistle. Then Lyle ripped open the envelope, and it was all business.

"Okay so there's thirty things on the list. I think the best way to do this is probs to make like the Scooby gang and split."

"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your white guy rapper persona goes for a Cartoon Network reference?"

"Okay, how about this?" Nick offered. "Emily and Yo-Yo, you take pictures of the list on your phone, we'll divide up into teams and split the campus in thirds. We can take uh, North West corner, North East corner, and then South Central."

"Good! That's good!" Billy agreed over the jumbled nods, and shoved the paper towards us so we could take our pictures. "Okay, Nick, Yo-Yo and I will take the West side, Lyle and Neha go East, and Stuart and Emmy can stay central and look around here." Stuart and I both glared at the obvious set up, but Billy just grinned. "Play nice, you two. Alrighty! Keep in touch and get creative, kids! Let's go!"

Everyone scattered over the room, leaving Stuart and I in the middle of the masses in a less than amicable mood. My fingers were closed around my phone so tightly I thought the screen might break, and my teeth ground painfully into one another.

"Let's just get this over with," Stuart sighed, pushing his glasses farther up on his nose. "Where first?"

I scanned the list, picking a random one in the middle where no one was likely to be just yet. "Nap pods are top floor. Let's go."

To his credit, he didn't bother arguing with me. I took the shortest path I could think of and Stuart followed complacently, if sulkily, behind me. Taking the nap pods first also seemed to be a good pick, since no one was there when we arrived. That meant more space to take the picture, and less teams stealing our ideas of what was creative.

Stuart made a beeline for the closest nap pod, collapsing onto the seat and closing the lid before I could even open my mouth. "Ready whenever you are."

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to take the picture? I'm pretty sure that's the point of the whole challenge."

"The point is to take creative pictures of things the staff's already seen. There's nothing creative about you using a nap pod they way it was intended."

His sigh echoed slightly inside the pod, and he slid the cover open again to reveal his annoying, exasperated mug. "Then what do you suggest, Terrell?"

I glanced around the room for a moment, then held out my hand. "Give me your hat."

"Will you stop it with the fucking hat jokes? Seriously, what do you have against beanies?"

"It's not a hat joke, loser. Just take the hat off. And your glasses."

He groaned but pushed himself to his feet, pulling the hat off his head and messing up his hair. He handed both items to me with exaggerated reverence, and I snatched them before he could change his mind.

"Can you still see?" I asked, holding the glasses up curiously.

"Yeah, they're for distance."

I peered through the lenses, a smirk forming on my face as I looked around. "These do almost nothing. They're glorified brainy specs. That's hilarious."

"So I like the way I look with glasses," he snapped. "Sue me. Can you get to the point?"

"Well we have to think of a different way to use the nap pod. So unless you're hiding a set of rock hard abs under that T-shirt and you can plank on top of the dome, we're gonna have to go with something simpler."

I went to poke his stomach, and he smacked my hand away. "Fuck yourself."

"Ah no, that's a different kind of photo shoot. Just lie down on your stomach, feet up."

I wasn't sure if I'd flustered him or if he was just anxious to move on. Either way, Stuart clamped his mouth shut and walked back to the nap pod, lying down on his stomach and swinging his feet up to where his head had been. He flinched when I grabbed his ankles, and I did my best to hide my smile.

"Oh relax. I'm not gonna hurt you."

He grumbled as I pulled the beanie on over his shoes, and I did my best to slide his glasses on as well. It took a little fidgeting with the laces, but I managed to prop them up on his heels in a way that didn't look totally stupid.

I stepped back to take the picture, an inverted, flipped human being taking a nap in Google headquarters. It wasn't necessarily the coolest thing we could have done, but we were on a time budget, and I wanted this over with as soon as possible.

"I don't know," I sighed, looking down at my phone. "The bottoms of your shoes are just about as ugly as your face. I'm not sure if anyone will be able to tell the difference."

"Gimme that," he huffed. He rammed his glasses back onto his face and grabbed the phone out of my hands, trying to critique the picture and put on his beanie at the same time. Whatever he was looking for, though, he didn't seem to be able to find anything wrong with it. I watched his lips press together in increasing frustration, until he finally swiped back to the picture of our scavenger hunt list. He walked towards the stairs without looking back. "From now on, I'm taking the pictures."

I shrugged and followed after him without arguing. One win was good enough for the moment. I'd give him a break for a bit and find a more creative way to infuriate him later down the line. We had an hour for that, at the very least.

After that, we worked pretty efficiently to get our pictures taken. I wouldn't go as far as to say that Stuart and I made a good team. We didn't get along, and we were still throwing mild insults at each other as we worked. But still, we were acting like something that at least sort of resembled a team, which I guess was an improvement. I let Stuart take the rest of the pictures, and modeled in all of the shots we needed to take. We fought a little over ideas, but it was pretty tolerable in retrospect. I'd almost thought we'd be able to make it through the day alive.

But then, we were blind sided.

I don't necessarily mean that in the conventional sense of just "taken by surprise." And I don't mean it in the reference sense of "we were taken in and given prosperous football careers." I mean it in the actual football sense. We were blind sided as in tackled. One moment we were speed-walking side by side towards the café, and the next moment Stuart was toppling into me.

I'm sure I let out some sort of squeal as my body went flying sideways, but for the most part, it was drowned out by Stuart's cursing. I prepared myself to fall into the wall of the hallway, but instead I just kept falling. I slammed into the ground with a groan, which doubled when Stuart collapsed on top of me. His elbow dug into the space along my spine, and I almost choked in pain.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I screeched, kicking my legs as if that'd help me achieve my goal.

"I'm trying! Stop fucking moving!"

Stuart tried to roll off of me, and ended up backhanding me across the face. I screamed again, shoving him to the side and into a shelving unit. There was a clatter as a bunch of things fell to the floor, extra cords and mice by the sound of it. I would have liked to investigate further, but just as I was getting my bearings there was a loud bang, and we were thrown into total darkness.

"H-Hey! What the fuck?!" Stuart scrambled to his feet, inadvertently kicking me again. But this time I was too confused to care.

I grappled in the dark, managing to close my hand around one of the shelving units and haul myself to my feet. There was a loud rattle as Stuart yanked the handle of the door that had closed behind us, but because of our startlingly wonderful good luck, it wouldn't budge.

"Hey! Who the fuck is out there?! Let us out!" he yelled, and pounded his fists against the door.

There was a smattering of laughter, and a slapping sound I thought might have been some people high fiving, but we didn't get any more of a response. It was just a group of pathetically desperate interns who weren't smart enough to win without cheating, but weren't dumb enough to tell us who they were.

I shoved Stuart to the side, kicking the door right above the handle with everything I had. All I got for my efforts was a shooting pain up to my knee, and I nearly collapsed on the spot. Stuart managed to grab my arm in the dark, keeping me on my feet but also swinging my face first into another shelf. Apparently, Google had the money to assure no one could break into their supply closets, but not break out when they got locked in.

Stuart jumped as I let out a strangled noise of frustration. "God this is fucking ridiculous! Who doesn't put safety handles in doors?! It's the fucking twenty first century! Sixteenth century graves had better safety measures!"

"Can you stop screaming?!" Stuart yelled, and he blindly shoved me back a couple steps. "God, you are making this so much worse than it needs to be."

"Worse? What the fuck do you want me to do, Stuart? We are locked in a fucking closet!"

"How about you call someone, dumbass? You fucking grew up here. You're telling me you don't have a maintenance person's phone number or some shit?"

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see me. It was a good point, even if I didn't have a maintenance person's number. But I did know someone who could.

I pulled out my phone, flinching a bit at the bright light of the screen. I quickly dialed my father's office number, turning anxiously on the spot as it rang. And rang. And didn't stop ringing. Cue another groan of frustration.

"Well?" Stuart demanded.

"My dad won't fucking pick up. He's probably in a meeting." I ignored his sigh and started dialing again, this time waiting for Lyle's voice to answer me. Thankfully, it was only a few seconds before he accepted the call.

"Em-dawg, status update."

"We're locked in a closet, and someone needs to come get us right now."

"W-Wait, what?"

"You fucking heard me, Lyle. Stuart and I are locked in a closet, and you need to call someone to come get us out right fucking now."

"H-How? What were you even doing?"

"Walking, thank you very much! We were just heading to the café and we got fucking sabotaged. A group of interns shoved us into a closet and now we can't get out."

"Okay, that's—hold on. No, they're locked in a closet… She says they got sabotaged, Neha. I really don't think they were doing anything."

"Lyle, I am not fucking joking! Both of you get your fucking asses over here and let us out or so help me God you will not—!"

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! Look we—we'll come get you as soon as we can. We're almost done. If you send me your pictures, we can turn them in for the group and then come get you after they tally us."

"No, Lyle! I am not waiting for you to tally up the fucking points! Get us out of this closet right now!"

"Emily, we have to think about the team. Just send me the pictures, and we'll be there as soon as we can. Promise!"

I took another deep breath to yell at him, but the line was dead before I could get a single word out of my mouth. The reply turned into a scream of frustration, and I slammed my foot into the door repeatedly, making it shake on its hinges.

"Woah! Hey! Stop! Stop!" Stuart grabbed me by the shoulders, yanking me away from the door and pressing my back to the wall. "Shut up, seriously. There's nothing they can do. Let them finish the game, and we'll get out. Seriously." He rolled his eyes and walked away from me, perching himself on a box of mouse pads by the door.

I glared at his back, my chest heaving as I slowly sunk to the floor. I hated this. I hated this so much. Of all the places in the world, I had to be locked in a closet with fucking Stuart Twombly. We might have called a temporary cease-fire, but this had not been part of the agreement. So much for a truce.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, flicking through the photos we had taken and sending them to Lyle. We'd gotten through more than half, and since we'd started with the furthest ones, Lyle and the rest of the team might actually be able to take care of the ones closer to the assembly hall. We wouldn't come in first place, but we could still get a decent amount of points. I guess that was some comfort, even if I didn't want a job.

Stuart and I did a pretty good job of ignoring each other for a while. His phone was already in his hands seconds after sitting on his box, and after I messaged Lyle, I pulled up a game on mine. I wasn't usually very into apps and games, but I'd take anything that would end the boredom of sitting on the floor in the dark. I was making some serious headway on my Trivia Crack score when my whole screen suddenly went black. In an instant, the rainbow wheel was replaced by a tiny silver apple, and then it was gone.

I bit back a groan and let my head drop back against the wall. None of this could be easy, obviously. Why would I think I'd be able to pass all of the time with Stuart in silence on our phones? No, this was a day from hell, and that meant not getting any breaks.

I let the silence sit for a while, trying to fool myself into believing I could just think the time away. I could restrict my thoughts to partying, television, alcohol, whatever, and before I knew it Lyle would be pounding on the door trying to figure out how to open it. But I couldn't. In the dark and in the silence, I could feel my brain stretching out, ready to start racing down a line of hurtles I did not want to go through. The quiet gnawed on my mind until I could feel myself on the edge of breaking. And then my eyes flicked up to Stuart.

"Can we just make out?"

It took him a second to process the question, and his head lifted so slowly I was almost convinced he hadn't heard me. "Excuse me?"

"Do you want to make out?"

The light from his still-living phone glowed up on his face, and I could see his eyes narrow behind his glasses. "Are you serious right now?"

"Wish I wasn't but the silence is driving me insane. I figured that would be better than going out of my mind."

"So one minute I kiss like a high schooler, and the next your asking me for round two?"

I ignored the satisfied smirk in his voice, and pushed myself to my feet so I could stand in front of him. "I didn't say you were good. I said I was out of options."

"You implied I was," he argued, and got up so he could look down his nose at me. "You did say I was the better option, after all."

"Listen, Twombly," I said quietly, with a dry laugh of laughter that might have fogged up his glasses if we were any closer. "You know that I don't like you. But right now, I need a distraction. And kissing you is just one step above chugging bleach."

I don't remember seeing any expression of consent in his eyes. Maybe I blinked at just the wrong time. Whatever happened, it was only a few seconds before my back was being slammed against the closet door and Stuart was sucking on my lower lip.

His hat was the first thing to go, and I tossed it to the ground despite his grunt of displeasure. I raked my nails through his hair, tugging on it slightly as I brushed my tongue against his. He made a noise in the back of his throat, and I felt my back press harder against the wood of the door. So presumably, he wasn't all that broken up about the hat.

His hands quickly slid down from my waist to my hips, and his fingers paused on my ass on their way down to the back of my thighs. I arched my back against the door, lifting one of my knees to drag it along his leg. His hand was under my knee in an instant, yanking it up over his hip and shoving me against the door once more. He pressed himself against me, and I mentally kicked myself as a gasp of air escaped from my mouth. I felt him chuckle against my lips, and his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of my thigh to pull me tighter against him.

Not to be outdone, I dug my nails into his scalp and attacked the kiss with enough ferocity to send us stumbling back a few steps. I jumped off my standing leg, wrapping it around him on the other side and pushing myself higher. We teetered for a moment, but I didn't bother slowing down. If he fell over, I'd still end up on top of him, so it wasn't much of my concern. So what if he was a little battered and bruised? But Stuart managed to catch me, quickly grabbing my ass to keep me up and backing me against the door. I nipped at his lower lip, gaining just enough leverage so I could slip down a few inches in his grip. I arched my back and then rolled my hips between the door and his pelvis, coaxing out a surprised groan he didn't have enough control to stop. I flicked my tongue over his lip with a cocky smirk before leaning into his ear. "Point, me."

Stuart let out a frustrated growl and immediately hoisted me higher in his grip. I expected to have my head knocked back as he silenced me with his lips, but he took a much easier route I hadn't really counted on. My head fell back of its own accord as Stuart dragged his lips over my neck, exploring almost gently until he located my pulse point. That's when he pulled out all the stops, making my eyes flutter shut as he sucked and pulled the skin into his mouth. I hadn't pegged Stuart as someone with a lot of experience, but at the moment it felt like he knew exactly what he was doing. His teeth bit down on my neck, and it took every ounce of control I had to stop myself from making any noise. I was determined to refuse him that satisfaction.

With all of my conscious thought trying to keep my mouth shut, a lot track of everything else my body was doing. One of my hands stayed resolutely on the back of Stuart's head, attempting to pin it to my neck even though there was no sign he planned on pulling back any time soon. My other hand had dropped down his back, and was currently clawing at his T-shirt in search of leverage. My legs were in a near death grip around Stuart's hips, twisting and kicking ever so slightly as my hips rolled against his stomach. He must have taken notice of that, because he adjusted his hands underneath me, giving me a moment of relief by pushing up against me. But as soon as it had happened he pulled back. I stopped the whine of disappointment threatening to slip out of my throat, only to feel his fingers sliding carefully over the fabric of my shorts. He took his time, stretching each digit before drumming the pads of his fingertips on the seam between my legs. I whispered a quiet curse before I could stop myself, and Stuart rewarded me by dragging his tongue over the light mark he'd made on my neck.

"Point, me."

I tightened my hand in Stuart's hair, yanking his head back so I could kiss him properly again. Stupid fucking asshole.

Stuart didn't seem to care though. He fought back just as hard, his fingers now toying with the edges of my shorts, occasionally brushing underneath as he tried to get me to make some noise of consent again. I bit down just a bit too hard on his lower lip in protest, making him grunt and press me into the door a little harder. I slid both my hands down his back, grabbing his T-shirt and dragging it up to his shoulders. His lips parted in surprise and froze for a moment as my nails dug into his skin, most likely leaving faint trails of red in their wake. I grinned, grabbing the fabric I'd bunched together so I could pull it over his head.

There was a slamming noise behind me, and I let out a shriek of surprise as Stuart stumbled back from the door.

"Emily? Stuart? Are you guys in there?"

"Jesus Christ, Lyle," I growled, glaring at the back wall of the closet as Stuart lowered me back down to the ground.

"Em? Oh thank God. This is like the twentieth closet I've checked! Why didn't you answer your phone?!"

"It's dead," I called back, running a hand through my hair. I pouted playfully as Stuart pulled his shirt back down, making him roll his eyes at me.

"Okay, just hang on a sec! Neha, you got the keys? Come here."

My eyes widened at the sound of the keys in the door, and Stuart and I stared at each other in horror. I had figured Lyle would have come to get us and then gotten the keys, but apparently he was a little more prepared than that. That gave Stuart and I approximately five seconds to make sure we didn't look remotely like we had been doing anything we'd just been doing.

It was a mad dash to straighten clothes and straighten glasses. Stuart dove for his hat on the ground, and I quickly tried to pull my hair into a side ponytail. I flattened the bulk of it over my neck, hoping that it would cover whatever mark Stuart might have left there, and just managed to pull it through when the door swung open.

"Finally! Jesus fucking Christ!" I stormed out of the closet with Stuart hot on my heels. Making a snap decision, I turned around and shoved him away from me. "Go fuck yourself, Twombly!"

"Do you ever shut up, Emily? And keep your fucking hands off me!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

In perfect unison, we stormed towards opposite ends of the hallway, leaving a very confused Lyle and Neha standing in front of the closet door. I heard clunky footsteps following after me, which I could only assume belonged to the girl and her clunky boots. She leveled with me a few seconds later, nearly tripping over herself in her attempt to keep up and casting me a worried side glance. "Geez, are you okay, Emily?"

"Fucking spectacular."

"What—What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. He's just a—a fucking—…!"

"Okay! Okay, hold on!" Neha grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop, forcing me to face her. "Just take a few deep breaths. So he's a jerk, no surprise there. You don't have to talk about it, but you do have to calm down. Why don't we go to the café and get some coffees?"

I sighed, pinching my nose and nodding my head a bit. "Yeah. Okay, yeah. That sounds good."

"Perfect," she said with a grin, and looped her arm through mine. "Two boy-free coffees coming up!"

I let Neha take the lead, lagging a couple steps behind her so she wouldn't see my relieved grin. I reluctantly chalked up a point for both Stuart and myself on my mental board for our spectacular diversion. Crisis averted.

A/N: Whoo! I'm baaack! I am really sorry about the delay on this. If you don't watch this whole account, I just got really into the CW show The 100. I watched the whole thing and then cranked out a few chapters of a story for that. So if you watch it, that's something else you should check out!

I also have this whole story plotted out now, so I feel a lot better not driving blind. Things are definitely going to be interesting for a while, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading and following and favoriting this story. Also a huge thanks to RHatch89, JustCallMeWhatever, IzzyBells, Vixen, Taffyrose, Constellation15, Sonny13, blahicantthinkofaname, katiesgotagun, AlexMelRose, Ayine, Amy, CoffeeShopWriter, ILikeToSneeze, LivMore, KittyKat, JenRiley16, Cheyxo, ShapedLikeStars, angieggjb, Cameron, BeccabooO1O, DylanO'B4Ever, Leticia, allisath, Tina37, May, stoxy99, Et Canis, missfites, WeirdySpeck, watsonswatson, Cameron, Guest, Jordan, TeenWolf-'Stiles'Stuart'101, and LionHeartMisfit for reviewing. I love you all ever so much!

-Brittney