Here's the next one. Enjoy! I've been asked to clarify some things because "this story doesn't make any sense." So from this point on I'll specify whether what's happening is in the past. Oliver's chapters are always in the present. Any time Felicity is "Megan" it's in the past but I'll mark it with MIT and the year.

Her head ached. Her stomach churned. She couldn't find her bearings. She fought to open her eyes before succumbing to the darkness once more.

* MIT - 2006 *

Megan rolled her eyes as she read a particularly dramatic text from Jess. She was texting her back as she turned a corner and ran into someone. She was knocked backwards and she closed her eyes in anticipation of the landing and humiliation, but it never came. A pair of strong arms were wrapped around her as she hovered near the ground. How embarrassingly cliché. A soft chuckle rang out and she opened first one eye and then the other.

"You!" She breathed out, a blush quickly colouring her cheeks.

It had been three days since the party. She had started to wonder if she'd ever see him again.

"It's Marcus, actually." He teased, his hands placing her back on her feet.

Of course it was. She still had a hickey on her throat with his name on it.

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes. "For catching me."

She watched as he tried to contain a laugh and the tiniest shot of irritation ran over her. She didn't like being laughed at. Verbal gaffes and unintended sexual innuendos were in her nature. She hadn't said anything even close to embarrassing and yet he was laughing at her.

"Right. Well I have class." She told him through her teeth.

His smile vanished and he looked contrite. "I'm sorry. Can I walk with you?"

She thought about rebuffing him. Then he shot her a charming smile and she shrugged.

What was the harm in spending some time with him?

Megan ruffled through her bookbag as her classmates filed out. Where had her phone gone? She had been so sure that she'd put it in her bag. She definitely remembered having it before class. She walked out of class, still digging through her belongings and smacked right into a familiar solid chest.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." He teased, heavy on the charm.

Megan took a step back and attempted a smile. "What are you doing here?"

He winked at her and pulled her phone from his jacket pocket. "You dropped this and I noticed it after I dropped you off."

"Oh." She ran her fingers over the screen, searching for any damage. "And you waited for my class to end?"

He shrugged it off.

"Thanks. This model wasn't cheap. I upgraded most of the hardware myself and then added some of my own software." He blinked at her. "Which you probably don't care about, because if you were a tech student I would have seen you around more often. So, thanks. It would have been hard to replace."

He fell into step beside her as she walked out of the building. "Aren't you going to ask how you can repay me?"

Megan bit her lip as his show of blatant flirtation. It wasn't supposed to be this easy, was it? Also, she couldn't really understand how she'd caught the attention of a guy like Marcus.

"Do you like coffee, Megan?" He continued, when she didn't answer.

She was probably imagining the subtle undertone of irritation in his voice. She doubted he'd ever had to try so hard before.

Why wasn't she falling all over herself anyways?

"Coffee is good." She replied noncommittally.

"Perfect. Well I'll call you then." He promised before turning and heading in the opposite direction. She watched as both men and women alike watched his progress with awe.

The smile remained on her face as she headed back to her dorm. It was only as she was telling Jess about the exchange that she realized he'd waited for her class to end. Her three hour class. And he hadn't asked for her number.

Megan sat amongst the leaves as she finished the final chapters of one of her tech-books. She was startled when her pocket vibrated. She pulled out the phone and stared at the screen in confusion.

Marcus

I'd like to collect on that coffee date.

A tendril of unease ran through her. She hadn't given him her number, something she'd realised about ten minutes after he'd walked away from her. And she certainly hadn't programmed his name and number into her phone.

Obviously he'd inserted his contact information while she'd been in class. That was the obvious answer. It did little to combat the feeling of violation however. Her cellphone was the equivalent of her bedroom, diary, drunken thoughts and personal sanctuary wrapped up in one. Seeing him holding her phone had been jarring enough. To find out that he'd actually poked around on it bothered her more than it probably should.

Books forgotten, she spent the next hour encoding all of her phone's data and building several layers of password protection.

She didn't text him back.

Sorry for the delay. Thanks for reading the latest updates.