James hummed a pleased sound into the crook of Alex's neck where he was busily pressing kisses. Alex was doing her very best to act like she was interested in making out...but it was an act and a flimsy one at that.

All she could think about was how much more turned on she'd been by Emily's lips on her neck, how much more she'd liked it when Emily touched her. She shouldn't be having these thoughts, she knew that. She needed to convince everyone – including James – that she was in love with him. But...

But every time James put a hand on her, all she could think about was how completely uninterested in him she was.

With a steadying inhale, she marshalled her concentration and focused instead on James. She tilted her head to give him better access. He seemed to take that as permission to suck a bruise to her skin...but she seemed to read his mind before he could and was immediately pushing him away. "James, no," she said gently. "No marks."

"Why not?" he asked with his most adorable pout.

She fixed him with an expression one might use on a small insolent child. "Because Daddy's taking me to visit his Academy and I don't want his friends to think I'm easy."

"Oh." A beat. "But can we keep making out?"

She sighed, resigning herself to enduring a little more of his hands on her body. "Fine." She leaned in to kiss him again.

She let her mind wander as they kissed, which was a mistake... At first, it was innocent enough, making a list of things to pack, reviewing her homework for the weekend. But then her mind wandered into dangerous territory. Namely, the feel of Emily's hands on her body, moving inside her... She couldn't help but let out a little moan at the memory.

The sound elicited a smug grin from James and he pulled back to waggle his brows while sliding his hand toward her breast, clearly having mistaken the sound as being his doing.

She was saved having to either slap him or explain a very convoluted situation by her phone ringing. "Oh, hi, Tara!" she answered the call with a look of faux apology.

"I cannot believe you're forcing me to go on some BS roadtrip because you're too afraid to leave me alone for two days," Emily grumbled as she crammed clothes off the floor into her suitcase.

"Really?" Erik said with faux surprise, "Because it seems exactly in line with something I'd do." He grinned wryly. "I wasn't born yesterday, Emily. I know exactly what kind of chaos you're liable to create unsupervised.

She rolled her eyes, but didn't give him the satisfaction of a verbal reply. She glanced at her phone to signify that she was ignoring him.

"Besides, your friend Alex is coming too. That should make you happy," he continued. He couldn't help but notice the way she stiffened, very nearly dropping her phone. He grinned to himself, mentally cursing Charles for always being right.

"Oh...umm..." she stammered, wishing she could have come up with a less awkward reaction. "I mean...who cares? Jason Momoa himself could be going and I still wouldn't want to come."

Erik threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jesus Christ, Emily. Why do you have to make everything so fucking hard?"

"Fuck off, Erik," she snapped. She pulled on her leather jacket, grabbing the lighter from his shirt pocket as she passed him. She didn't bother to wait for him to respond, already stomping down the stairs and out the door.

She skulked across the cul-de-sac to where Alex leaned against her car looking quite sulky as well, clearly as thrilled by the prospect of spending two hours in a confined space with both their fathers as she was. She, however, was more polite than Emily and put on a smile when Charles emerged from the house with his suitcase.

"Ready to go, Daddy?" she chirped, trying to put on a brave face for him.

Alex insisted on taking her car because she didn't trust her father's vehicle not to fall apart on the highway. She also insisted on driving because she'd saved up for a long time to by the car on her own and she didn't completely trust his driving.

And, since it was her car, she got to choose the music.

Emily's patience for country music only lasted so long, though... And said patience ended quite spectacularly when she mimed shooting herself in the head.

Even though Alex's gaze was fixed quite determinedly out the windshield, she didn't miss the movement in the corner of her vision. "If you've got something to say, then say it," she said flatly, clearly unamused.

"I can only listen to rednecks singing about their trucks for so long before blowing my brains out," Emily retorted.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Clearly you haven't actually been listening to the music because it's actually much more well-rounded than people give country credit for and..." she argued. Her cogent argument, though was ruined by the next song to come on the radio (it was really hard to argue the merits of country music when a song called She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy played).

"You're literally the only person under the age of forty who listens to this shit," Emily complained.

"I really don't care what you think," Alex said. "My car, my rules. If you don't like it, you're welcome to walk to North Salem..."

It was Emily's turn to roll her eyes. "You're so annoying," she grumbled. "I don't know how James tolerates you."

Alex glowered. "Go to Hell, Emily."

In the backseat, Charles and Erik shared a significant look. "I'm not sure this was such a good idea..." Erik said quietly. "They really seem to dislike each other."

"They're just trying to mask their true feelings with indifference," Charles insisted under his breath.

"Indifference?" Erik repeated dubiously. "It's cats and dogs up there..."