I did not expect to be finished with the second chapter so quickly, but thanks to 2 AM creative juices, here we are! Let me know what you think. :)

"My car's right here," Poppy said, motioning to a silver Honda a car or so down. She let go of her suitcases in the parking lot and took out her keys, unlocked it and opened the trunk. "Here, you can put your stuff in the back. I'll clear out the passenger seat."

"Um, okay, thanks," Branch said, starting to load his luggage into her car. He still felt weird about this, like he was inconveniencing her by relying on her like this, and had to constantly remind himself of the reaction she'd had when he initially rejected her offer. "Want me to load up your stuff, too?"

"Oh, yes, thanks . . . okay, I think it's all clean now. I'm gonna get in the car."

"Got it," he said, closing the trunk of her car before hopping into the passenger seat. "So, how far from here do you live?"

"Like, 20 minutes? I dunno. Here, lemme choose some music to make it go by faster."

"You actually like—" Branch started, the car speakers blaring a bouncy beat, but then remembered she was going to be housing him for the next week, at least, and stopped talking.

"Hey, what's wrong with pop music?" she said teasingly.

"Nothing, it's just . . . really loud." And obnoxious, he thought.

"Oh, sorry!" She turned it down. "Is that better?"

Branch just nodded, hoping he wouldn't offend her any more. Not that she'd seemed offended before, but he figured it was best not to risk it.

Around 20 minutes later, they arrived at Poppy's house, which was three stories—it had a basement and an upstairs—which surprised him. For their age group, it was uncommon to be able to afford this, especially right out of college.

"Ta-da!" Poppy said, jumping out of the car and making jazz hands at her house. "This is my new house!" She was grinning, and was obviously excited to show it off to someone new.

"It's nice," Branch said, offering a small smile at her excitement. "Thanks for letting me stay here."

"Of course! Here, let's get our suitcases." She practically ran to the trunk of the car to get her things out.

When they got inside, Branch saw that it looked as nice on the inside as it did from the outside. He hadn't been expecting this girl to be able to keep such a clean house. "Oh, it's nice in here," he commented.

"Thanks! Y'know, my dad just left like he said on the phone, so he probably did a little cleaning before he left."

Oh.

"Let me show you around!" Poppy said. She led him up the stairs first, and motioned to the huge, double-doored bedroom at the top of the stairs. "That's where I sleep, and—" She pointed at the smaller bedroom next to it—"You can sleep in there! Well, um . . ." She gazed at the two inflatable mattresses stacked on top of each other as she made her way in. "Those things aren't always super comfortable. You wanna sleep in my bed?"

"Oh, no, no, I couldn't do that," he said. "I'll sleep in here. It's not a big deal. It's probably not any worse than the hotel room I would've had otherwise, anyway."

"I guess . . ." Poppy said, still looking dissatisfied. Suddenly, her face lit up. "Oh! I know! There's a nice bed in the guest room that I forgot about! C'mon, it's in the basement!"

Branch followed her down the stairs, wondering what he'd done to deserve this kind of treatment.

"Welp, I finished unpacking!" said Poppy as she walked into the living room, where Branch sat, checking the news once again. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Um, I dunno. Maybe we should have dinner or something?"

"Oh, yeah! There's this restaurant near here that serves breakfast food all day, and it's not like McDonald's or anything, it's like actual good restaurant breakfast food! We should go there!"

"Have breakfast for dinner? Like waffles?"

"Yeah, and whipped cream!"

"You had a donut just over an hour ago, and now you want breakfast for dinner?"

She shot him a look and threw a pillow at him, making him drop his phone into his lap. "Okay, shut up. Breakfast for dinner is the best kind of dinner."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, I said they serve breakfast all day, not that you have to order breakfast food. C'mon, it's a nice restaurant! You'll like it!"

"Okay, well, regardless"—he threw the pillow back to her—"I'm not going out to dinner when we're literally in the middle of a global pandemic. Eating something someone else had their hands all over? No thanks. And I'm not letting you go either."

"But we're both young and healthy! I mean, I assume you're healthy. You don't have diabetes or chronic health issues or anything?"

"No, I'm healthy. But that doesn't mean I'm going to try and get the virus."

She groaned, rolling her eyes. "But quarantining is so boring!"

"On the plane you said, 'We can quarantine together! It'll be fun!'"

"I changed my mind, okay? I'm not even stocked up."

"Well then, go get stocked up so we can stay here and not end up in the hospital."

She glared at him for a long moment, but her could see her considering it. Finally she said, "Fine! We'll go to the grocery store together."

"Together? Why not just one of us?"

"Because we only just met! I don't know what snacks you like. So, come on." She stood up, grabbed his right forearm, and tried to pull him up from the couch herself.

He chuckled a little at her shenanigans, getting up. "Okay, I guess so."

"Yes! We're here! Time to PANIC-BUY! Woo-hoo!" said Poppy when they parked in the grocery store parking lot, throwing her arms up and laughing.

"Um, no. No panic-buying."

"Aww, why not?"

"Because that leaves none for the people who desperately need it. Just get as much as you think you need."

She sighed, looking at him like he was sucking all the fun out of their grocery-shopping adventure. "Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, let's go get some stuff we need!"

When they got inside, the difference between a grocery store usually and a grocery store in these trying times wasn't immediately obvious. Upon a closer look, yes, not everything was stocked as fully as normal, but it wasn't very eye-catching.

"Okay, what should we get first?" Poppy asked enthusiastically, walking alongside Branch as he pushed the cart.

"Well, I dunno. What's on the list?"

"Oh, I didn't make a list," she said nonchalantly.

"Why?" he asked, trying not to sound too judgmental . . . but it sounded like he was failing.

"Well, I just thought we'd get a little of everything, so we won't have to come back anytime soon!" she said defensively, then looked him up and down with about as much judgment as he'd treated her with. "And you're, what, 25? Don't act like you're so much better at adulting than me."

He raised his eyebrows at her, surprised by all the sass she was emitting. "Okay, I'm 26, and I would bet money that I'm better at adulting than you."

She put a hand on her hip and raised one of her eyebrows as well. "Wow, okay. You've only known me a couple hours and you're already willing to make bets. Judge books by their covers much?"

"I don't need to know you for very long to know that—" He stopped talking when an old man and a teenage girl walked between them.

The old man stopped walking and turned around to look at them. "Oh, I remember when my wife and I used to banter like that." A reminiscent, sad smile appeared on his face. "Have fun as a couple while you're young. It doesn't last for long." With that, he turned and walked out the doors.

"Oh, no, we're not—" Branch started.

"We're not, uh, together—" Poppy said at the same time.

"Uh, sorry about that," said the teenage girl he was with. "Grandma just died last month, and he's still processing—Grandpa, remember to wash your hands before you touch your car!" She darted out the door.

Slowly, the two turned to look at each other again.

"So, what were we going to shop for first?" Poppy asked.

"Do we really need bagged kettle corn and microwavable kettle corn?" Branch suggested. "Why don't you just put the bagged kettle corn back?"

Poppy dramatically dropped her jaw. "How dare you even suggest that! Bagged kettle corn is the best kind!"

Her shopping partner sighed. "Well, first of all, I definitely disagree with you, but second of all, why don't we just put the microwave-popping kind back, then?"

"What? No! Then you won't have the kind you like!"

"Believe me, it's definitely not my first snack choice."

She covered her ears and sang, "La, la, la," then declared (while shaking her fist in the air), "We will buy all the types of snacks!"

"We really don't need to do that—"

"Who knows what kind of cravings you'll get in quarantine? Do you even understand how frustrating it is to not be able to have the snack that you want?"

"Given the fact that I'm not a pregnant woman, I think this'll cover it," he retorted sarcastically, motioning to their already-full cart. "We haven't even gotten the necessities yet! All of this? Just carb-filled snacks!"

"Yeah, because they're good!" she said. "I thought you didn't want to leave the house after this shopping trip!"

"Yes, but a quick trip to the store doesn't bother me, if it's something we really need. We don't need any of this stuff."

She just clutched the bag of kettle corn to her chest and made a stubborn face, like a toddler. "I want my kettle corn."

Branch gave an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "Fine, have your kettle corn. But we're going to get the necessities now, like milk and paper towels."

"But I wanted tortilla chips!"

"No. You already have potato chips," he said, pulling her out of the aisle before she could get the chips in their cart.

"God, you got a lot of stuff," Branch muttered at the self-checkout.

Poppy scoffed as she scanned their fourth gallon of milk. "Like I came here by myself."

"Well, you basically did. You wouldn't listen to anything I said."

"That is not true. I didn't even get my tortilla chips or bacon because of you."

"Like they even had bacon. Did you see the meat section of the store? It was almost completely wiped out."

"I could've checked it for bacon if you'd let me!"

"Maybe if you'd been willing to put something back, I would have."

She patted him on the head condescendingly, which was strange, because he was taller than her. "Rest assured that I want everything I'm buying."

"I mean, okay . . . at least we have soap. And toilet paper."

"Do you really think I would go pre-quarantine shopping and not buy soap? Nope!" She smiled to herself. "See, I'm very smart."

"Smart? It doesn't take a genius to figure out you need soap. Just someone with common sense."

"Hey, don't trivia—trivializate—ahh!—trivialize my accomplishments! Yeah. Trivialize."

Branch laughed a little and held up his hands as though he was surrendering. "Okay, I won't!"

"Perfect!" she said, sticking her nose up dramatically.

"I would like to ask you to continue scanning everything you wanna buy, though, because I don't want to be here all night."

"Well, I guess I can do that for you," she teased, and dutifully began to scan the different hand and bar soaps she was buying.

As he looked at what was already bagged, and what was in the cart, Branch realized that they might be inside for much longer than he'd initially thought.

Uh-oh.