Welcome back! Herein lies the latest installment of Influential. I've been DYING to string this all together haha. Sorry that it's so short… it was awkwardly fun for me to write xD I hope you're all staying safe during these scary times! I am officially home for a couple weeks, so I'm hoping to write lots more for you guys in that time. I'm obviously terrible at keeping my timeline promises, so don't hold your breath, but all the encouragement and reminders is appreciated. That being said, review and let me know what you think/if there's anything you'd like me to write! I'd love to hear from all of you, even if you're reviewing as guests :)

NOW UP: It might've taken a few years for Ingrid to exact her revenge for the locker room incident but, thankfully, karma did most of the work for her. Warning: suggestive content ahead.

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Chapter Five – Lobstee in the Locker Room

As X Middle School's most efficient partners-against-crime approached the boys' locker room, discomfort settled in Ingrid's chest. "Are you sure this is where 'Lobstee' would run to, Fillmore?"

"Not really," he admitted, not breaking his stride. "I mean, if he were me, I'd hope he wouldn't be dumb enough, but you know what they say about T's and I's." The duo stopped in front of the door, and her partner eyed her curiously. "What, don't tell me Ingrid Third's afraid of the boys' locker room?" he joked, jerking a thumb in its direction.

She glared at him. "I'm not afraid of the room, Fillmore. I'm afraid of who might be exposed inside of it."

"The human body's a beautiful thing, baby," Fillmore chided, wiggling his eyebrows. "Might not be such a bad image in that memory of yours."

She raised an eyebrow. "You know what you just said could be considered sexual harassment, right?"

"You wanna embarrass yourself by jumping through all the hoops at HR just to stick it to me, you go right ahead," he clapped back with a smirk and reached for the doorknob. "Close your eyes, Mama Theresa."

Ingrid rolled her eyes before covering them with her hand. "It's 'Mother'."

Fillmore shrugged and said, "Nah, I like 'mama'." He pushed the door open and, with a mischievous smirk, said, "It's clear."

Upon uncovering her eyes, Ingrid found that to be a lie. She cried out in shock as her eyes instantly fell on overweight eighth-grader Ryan Castiglione, clad in nothing but a too-small towel around his waist. She quickly re-covered her eyes but to no avail. Just like that, that image would be ingrained into her memory for the rest of her life.

"Oh, snap!" Fillmore grinned at her as Ryan walked away, unfazed. "I'm sorry!" he drawled sarcastically, and she glared at him as menacing as she could with a deep blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Fillmore, I really didn't need that image in my photographic memory," she said, while he grinned wickedly down at her. "Believe me, you will pay."

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Ingrid took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm her pounding heart as she strode down the street towards Fillmore's house. She gave up trying to "keep it cool" a block over; not only was it far too humid too early in the day, but the excitement was swarming inside her, dangerously close to spilling out in the most uncharacteristically fangirl way. Warped Tour started in three hours. Ingrid's firstWarped Tour.

And Fillmore wasn't answering his phone.

While she was teeming with mostly excitement, a small part of her worried, so she gathered all her essentials (a drawstring bag filled with sunscreen, towels, snacks, and everything else the website said she might need) and headed to his house, sending a futile "on my way" text in his direction. Most likely, he'd overslept (as usual during the summer), but far be it from her to make sure he hadn't fallen in the shower and accidentally hung himself in the curtain or gotten mauled by his new five-week-old Pyrenees puppy.

One may never know.

Of course, even if she did find him in a state of duress, Ingrid had zero intentions to forego their plans. She'd wanted to attend the day-long music festival for years and nothing short of getting crushed by a meteorite would stop her this time. She'd drag him by a fishing hook through his earlobe if she had to. After years of having no one to go with, Ingrid found that it was a tradition for Tehama and Anza, who went there together the last two summers, and she knew her time had come. It took some time, but the three of them finally reassured Fillmore that despite the punk rock lineups, he'd have a good time as well.

Fillmore being the only one out of all of them with a brand-new truck had nothing to do with convincing him to tag along… whatsoever.

Ingrid approached his house and, seeing his truck standing alone in the driveway, she recalled that his parents were gone for the weekend, which would explain his unresponsiveness – he overslept, she was sure. She frowned at the idea of his new puppy – ironically named Bruiser – left to his own devices for so long in his kennel. She picked up the pace and ascended the porch stairs with her copy of his house key in her hand to let herself inside. Bruiser whined from his place in the kitchen, his nails against his kennel floor sending the earsplitting sound of scraping vinyl to her ears. She dropped her keys and bag by the front door and rushed towards the source of the sound.

"Hey, Mister!" she cooed, subconsciously peering over her shoulder to ensure she, in fact, was alone – if Fillmore heard her sounding so sickly sweet, she'd never live it down, even if it was for a puppy. The dog whined louder in excitement and the puff of white fur leaped for joy as she rounded the corner. Ingrid couldn't hold back the open-mouthed grin from her face as he stumbled over his own tiny feet. "Have you been in here for days?" Ingrid asked dramatically as she reached for the kennel door. He wiggled and whined in response as her fingers fiddled with the latch and pounced on her the second the latch was freed.

She giggled as the momentum forced her backward onto her butt and he licked her cheeks. Ingrid inwardly cringed at the uncharacteristic behavior that always seemed to spill out when she was around this ball of white fur, but the feeling didn't linger long as Bruiser jumped out of her lap and bolted from the room.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" she asked, quickly getting up to follow him as he bounded up the stairs, most likely towards Fillmore's bedroom. "Guess you and I had the same idea," she mumbled and moved to follow him when she heard the rhythmic thumping of Fillmore's stereo which made her falter in her tracks. Apparently, her conclusion that he overslept was incorrect. So, if he had been awake this whole time, why wasn't he answering his phone?

She continued up the stairs, where Bruiser, his whole bottom half wagging, was impatiently waiting for her at the top. The bass pumped louder as she ascended, Bruiser's excitement worsened, and Ingrid's curiosity heightened. She couldn't help but feel, as Fillmore himself would put it, "butt-hurt" that whatever was currently occupying all his attention was not the music festival, which he knew meant a lot to her. Maybe he fell asleep with the stereo on again. As loud as it sounded, it wasn't impossible – he'd done it many times before. Or, could he be looking back over old cases? He did that when he grew stressed – even if it was during the summer – and Ingrid noticed that Shelby had been getting on his nerves lately.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. She'd recently found herself growing to detest the mere mention of his new girlfriend. Fillmore was utterly smitten – for what reasons other than physical, Ingrid couldn't wrap her mind around – so she did her best to be cordial at the very least, but Shelby was hard to be around. Ingrid made Shelby jealous, she knew, but Shelby would never let herself believe that Ingrid meant zero harm to her relationship with Fillmore. While Ingrid couldn't stress it enough, Karen almost egged the brewing feud on. "I wanna see how long it'll take this one to pop," she'd said, referring to his past girlfriends' issues with Ingrid, then added with a nudge, "or for you to pop her."

Bruiser whined as she reached the top of the stairs, which pulled her out of thought long enough to notice Fillmore's bedroom door was ajar. The pup darted for and pushed his way through it. Ingrid followed, ready to scold Fillmore for whatever-it-was that kept him from answering her anxious calls, but his name died on her lips as she saw what – or, rather, who – was lying behind the door… entangled with him on his bed.

Well, she thought, Shelby isn't getting on his nerves today, at least.

Bruiser leaped onto the bed, startling Fillmore who didn't hear their entry over the boom of his stereo. He looked fearfully over his very bare shoulder and, to his horror, saw Ingrid in the doorway with crossed arms and an amusing expression mixed between shock, humor, and embarrassment. Despite the way her jaw dropped upon seeing her best friend's ass in the air, she couldn't help but laugh at the blinding speed with which Fillmore flipped around and reached for the nearest blanket to cover himself with, which nearly propelled him off the bed and onto the floor.

"Oh," Ingrid drawled with a Cheshire grin, despite the faint blush creeping into her cheeks. She leaned casually against the doorframe as Shelby sat up, not bothering to cover her bare chest, and glared in her direction, "so this is why you weren't answering your phone."

Fillmore, however, was not amused as he snatched the radio remote and turned the music off. "What the hell are you doing here, Ingrid?" he snapped as he tried to keep a too-happy Bruiser off his own too-happy lap.

"In case you've forgotten we kinda have big plans today," Ingrid said lightly.

"That's not what I meant," he said through gritted teeth, which only made her grin wider. "I meant what are you doing right here, right now?"

"You wouldn't answer your phone. I wanted to make sure you didn't accidentally sleep in on me," she replied and, despite the faint blush in her cheeks, she gestured coyly towards Shelby. "It hadn't occurred to me that you might be sleeping in on her."

Shelby's eyes narrowed. "Then if you wouldn't mind—" she threw the blankets off them and over Bruiser, then turned to straddle Fillmore's lap. An incredulous laugh burst from Ingrid's chest and she looked away. Did Shelby actually just—

"Shel, Jesus—" Fillmore groaned in protest as Shelby lowered herself on top of him. Right in front of me? Ingrid thought with a shudder. Was she serious? Did she have no shame?

Shelby looked over her shoulder at Ingrid. "—see yourself out," she finished.

Ingrid, now insanely uncomfortable – Shelby certainly got what she wanted – backed towards the door. "Wow, yes, by all means, you two finish up," she said as Fillmore muttered something in protest to Shelby. Risking a glance back in their direction, she asked, "Do you want the radio back on?"

"No," Shelby barked as Fillmore grasped for the blanket, which Bruiser was still trying to free himself from, to cover up with.

"Ingrid, could you get the damn dog?" he begged almost painfully as Shelby drove her hips into his.

Ingrid crossed her arms, an amused smirk on her face. "What?" she asked. She hated herself for even thinking it, but this was Fillmore. She couldn't resist. She knew he wouldn't if the tables were turned. "No doggy style?"

"Get out," they both snapped, but Ingrid couldn't hold back a laugh. Bruiser finally poked his head out from the edge of the blanket, and she beckoned him over with a pat of her leg. He leapt off the bed and scrambled over to her.

"Remember Lobstee in the locker room, Fillmore?" she asked as she bent down to pick up the dog.

"How in the hell is that relevant?" he snapped. Shelby glared at her over her shoulder.

"It's not, really. Karma's just a bitch," she joked with a self-satisfied smirk. He groaned behind her as she shut the door.

She put Bruiser down and shooed him in the direction of the stairs. Did that actually just happen? she thought, trying to ignore the too-enthusiastic noises coming out from under Fillmore's door. She shuddered and quickly descended the stairs.

Well, she thought as she tried to block out the naked images from her mind, it was safe to say this friendship had been changed forever.

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HA! I hope you guys enjoyed that xD Can't wait to hear from you guys! STAY SAFE and STAY HOME if you can!

Yours quarantined,

ellameno