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you don't want to come out with us?" Reva asked, standing in the kitchen with Lucy, Iya, and Penelope. They all looked gorgeous in their party outfits; short skirts, ripped jeans, and lacy tops. From how ominous the sky looked outside, I didn't think they were dressed for the weather, but they didn't care, so neither did I.

"I'm sure. Have a drink for me though." I smiled.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Lucy said, pouring herself another shot.

Penelope discretely hung onto Reva's arm and I watched their thumbs brush each other's hands. They glanced and smiled. I could tell Penelope wasn't fully comfortable around us yet, but I knew eventually she would open up. We were a rambunctious crowd. I didn't blame her for being reserved. I would be too if I saw Lucy taking body shots off Iya on the counter.

"If you change your mind at all, please call us," Iya said.

"I will don't worry."

I asked if everyone was ready to go. When they replied yes and gulped down the last drops of alcohol, we hiked down the apartment building stairs to my car. I tossed my backpack in the trunk, then climbed into the driver's seat.

Other residents meandered in the parking lot in their party outfits—some getting in their cars and some on foot. It was going to be a wild night for them. For me, I planned to go to the studio.

As I reversed from the parking lot, my muscle memory kicked in and I wound the windows down. The fog rolled in thick opaque clouds, kissing the ground. Even though there wasn't any rain, my skin felt moist, the humidity wrapping around me like a blanket.

Lucy—who sat shotgun—plugged her phone in and blared Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear. As usual, the scream-singing ensued as we drove down the Coastal Highway. I rolled up the sleeves to my sweatshirt and sang along.

I noticed my phone glowing in the cup holder and Lucy picked it up before I could tell her not to bother. My eyes flickered from the road to her face, and my heart sped up as she scanned the screen. What was she reading? Did someone text me?

She turned wide-eyed while the girls sang behind us. Instead of speaking, she grinned and faced forward, putting my phone back where it came from.

Shit, I must've gotten a message from one of the guys.

As I pulled into the beach lot, their blazing bonfire flickered above the dunes and students crowded around. I couldn't hear much shouting over the wind, but I could feel the thumping of the music. The party looked larger than the last, big enough police were bound to show up and bust it.

"Thank you so much for driving us." Reva squeezed my shoulder over the seat. Everyone else thanked me as they climbed out. I told them to call if they needed anything. I watched the four stumbled toward the crowd pumping their arms into the air.

I smiled.

Before I pulled out of the lot, I opened my phone.

___________________________________

[email protected]

[email protected]

hi

Is anyone alive out there?

radio silence type of night, huh?

___________________________________

So this is what Lucy saw.

Lord, she probably thinks I'm boning Elijah and keeping it a secret. The thought of us between the sheets fluttered through my mind. Me on top, him gripping my thighs as I rode—I grimaced and shut my phone off. I definitely wasn't boning him, just a friendly game of snarky emails.

From how the wind picked up, and heavy air, there was something brewing. So, I wound my windows up and headed for the art studio.

My phone rang. "Sweetheart," my mom's voice flooded the car speakers when I answered. "It's been so long."

My entire body eased from the sound of her voice. "Hi mom, I know. I'm sorry, I've been so distracted."

"That's okay. How is school going?"

"It's going alright. I'm ready for a break, though."

"Spring break will be here before you know it. Have you decided if you're coming home then?"

"I may go visit Leila for half, then come home for the rest."

We continued catching up, and I asked about how she and my step-dad James had been. I felt bad I hadn't called them in a while, but my mother's extremely intuitive. She can see right through my lies, especially when I'm not feeling my best. It also doesn't help when you're already a terrible liar.

"Hey mom, I have to go. I'm going to finish my art project," I said, turning the ignition off.

"Send me a picture when you're done!" We ended the call by saying we loved one another.

The silence on campus was immense, and I noted how barren it was apart from some lone cars belonging to the poor students who couldn't find a closer spot to their dorms. Everyone was out partying, unlike me.

This was one of the last nights I planned to spend in the studio as long as I finished my project. I rolled out of my car and grabbed my backpack from the trunk, and swiped into the building. The hallway glowed, illuminating the paintings on the wall, and my shoes thumped on the concrete floors, echoing into nothingness.

If I thought the campus was scary, this was ten times worse.

Sculptures at night had nothing on an empty parking lot, but I bolted to the room and closed the door. The familiar art supplies and woody smell of the canvas alleviated my irrational fear of being murdered and left for the students to find on Monday.

I knelt and plugged in the fairy lights my professor hung around the perimeter of the room, and instead of putting headphones in tonight, I blared the Fifty Shades Trilogy playlist.

My mood lifted like someone pried the negativity off my shoulders.

"There." I clapped. "That was more like it.

Any secondary sounds were drowned out by Annie Lennox singing "I put a spell on you." I bobbed my head and swayed as I mixed my paints. If anything could fix my attitude, it was music, because right now I couldn't help but smile.

I sat down at my stool, and—

"Are you kidding me?" I shouted when the music stopped from an incoming call. I'd never received so many phone calls in my life compared to this past month. Yet, I still answered with a little too much sass.

"Jesus, hello to you too," Jayce spoke.

"Hi, Jayce. Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yes." I set my brush down. "What's up?"

"Are you and your friends coming to our party tonight? Do you need to be picked up again?"

I beamed at his offer. "No, I'm busy finishing my project, but thanks for the invite."

A loud crinkling flooded the speaker, and I yanked my phone away. Then Jayce said, "Are you seriously not coming out tonight?"

I snorted. "Nope."

"Boo!" he yelled, then hung up without a warning. My chest shook with laughter as the music picked up where it left off. Jayce surprised me by inviting me out tonight, considering we barely spoke since last Friday. Though his invitation felt nice.

The songs played one after another and I grew closer to deeming the project complete. However, with any type of art, you never truly felt done. You had to choose when to give in and put the brushes down. I wasn't quite there yet, but I was close.

I squealed when tree branches scratched along the brick exterior. Glancing at the window, sparse rain droplets splatter across the glass. Well, that doesn't seem good for everyone at the party. The drops did not speed up. They fell at an irregular pace, and I couldn't tell if a storm was coming or just scattered showers.

Something struck the window, again and again. My forehead wrinkled when I realized there weren't any new wet spots.

Tink.

Tink.

"What the," I muttered, walking to the window.

There, Elijah stood on the grass patch between the art building and baseball field. His arm reeled back like he was ready to throw something. When he saw me in the window, both of his hands shot into the air and he waved erratically.

Holy shit, I couldn't believe he was standing there. I cranked the window open. "Elijah?"

"I thought you were calling me Eli now!" he shouted, his grey shirt now polka-dotted from the rain.

"Are you throwing rocks at the new window?"

"I needed your attention."

My heart somersaulted. "Why are you out there?"

"I don't have a key to swipe into the building. Would you let me in?"

"Why should I do that?"

Even from here, his expression became stony. "Hilarious. Maybe because it's raining and you need company?"

"Who sent you?" I bombarded him with more questions. It had to have been Jayce who told him where I was.

"Nobody! I brought peace offerings, though." He motioned to his backpack.

Before I fully processed what I was doing, I closed the window and ran to the lobby. My lungs burned as I pushed the employee entrance open and saw him running over. His curls lost some volume from the rain, and droplets trickled down his face, which he wiped away with the back of his hand.

I stepped aside. His body brushed past mine.

"Jeez, Van Gogh. I didn't think you were going to let me in."

"What kind of peace offerings do you have?" I asked.

He let out curt laughter. "You'll see upstairs."

I couldn't tell if my heart was pounding because I just ran across the building, or because he was here. Either way, this was awkward. More awkward than any of our other encounters. The reality of being alone in this enormous building with him was overbearing and my body didn't know how to handle it.

I turned around and walked toward the studio, hiding my uneasiness. "So, why are you here?"

"To finish painting the room."

Thank God he didn't see my eye roll because the idea Elijah came willingly on a Friday night when there was a party going on back home was absurd. "I thought your teammates were supposed to help you with this entire paint job."

"They made a deal with me and got out of helping."

Mmhm. Too bad I didn't believe him.

We walked across the breezeway overlooking the lobby. His presence was heavy, like the storm clouds rolling in. Now, the drops fell at a steady pace against the windows towering on both sides of us, and I hoped the girls were okay at the beach.

"What are we listening to tonight?" Elijah asked when I sat at my easel and pressed play.

"A playlist," I stated apathetically.

"Wow, thank you. I did not know."

I grinned.

His backpack clanked against the concrete floor, and my brows furrowed in interest. From my periphery, I watched him materialize an eight-pack of beer and an unmade bag of popcorn. Was that his peace offering? My lips betrayed me and curled upward.

Pretending I couldn't see what he was doing, I focused on my work. Though my attention was torn from my painting moments later when he plucked my phone from my lap.

"Hey!" I yelled.

Elijah leaped to the other side of the room, and I followed. "Fifty Shades Darker? This is what we're listening to?" he cried. "This is worse than Twilight."

"You are an asshole."

I stood on my tiptoes, attempting to get my phone back. Our hands fought for the device, and I ended up with my back against the wall and him standing in front of me. He towered over me, holding my phone high above my head like kids on a playground. His other hand splayed on the wall beside my face.

My arms fell to my side when I realized I had to jump to get it back. "Elijah," I warned.

He leaned closer, and I balled my hands into fists to stop myself from reacting. Gah! I wanted to be annoyed, but the feeling which spread up my thighs and bloomed around my navel said otherwise.

I shouldn't have let him in the building, because I knew I'd get nothing done with these feelings coursing through me. It was my inner horny sixteen-year-old breaking through, except this time, I was sober.

How sad.

A satisfied smile danced on his face like he could read my thoughts. My eyes fell to his pink lips, which complimented his dark skin. If he leaned in, his mouth would be close enough for us to—

"Let me play a song." He snapped me from my daze.

"Hell, no. You don't get to interrupt my last day in the studio and take the aux too."

"Last day, huh?"

"Yes, I'm turning in my project Monday."

He paused, then stepped back. I could breathe again.

Thunder shook the room and the paintbrushes rattled in their cups, followed by a flash of lightning. It illuminated the easels, casting monstrous shadows on the furthermost wall. We craned our heads to find the window getting pummeled by rain, hard enough you couldn't see beyond.

"That doesn't look good," I said. "Can I please have my phone back? I'm expecting a call." Most likely from the girls asking me to come and pick them up.

I held my hand out like a parent scolding their child for stealing. Contemplation settled over his features, then, he placed my phone in my palm.

"Thank you," I said, and returned to my easel.

I thought about our emails and how I called him Eli.

I didn't know why I did. He didn't look like an Eli. He looked like his full name, or maybe a nickname like 'sexy short-stop with the plump ass.' But I definitely wouldn't be calling him that.

The room rattled again.

"For you," I heard him say and turned to find a beer. "A peace offering."

"Trying to get me drunk now, are you?" I teased, opening the bottle and tipping it into my mouth. The cool liquid fizzed against my tongue and bubbled down my throat.

He paused. "One beer will make you drunk?"

"No," I laughed. "Four will though."

"Well, if you want to have four, you're welcome too, but don't feel obligated," he said, "I also brought us popcorn, but I can't pop it."

"Down the hall, the fourth door on the left is a lounge. There is a microwave in there."

He grinned. "I'll be right back."

Drinking in a university building didn't feel right, but we did it all the time in the dorms. I scanned for cameras and thankfully didn't find any. We'd get our asses handed back to us if they found out, but I took another swig and dotted my brush along with my painting's cheekbones.

If I were Elijah, I would not have taken this much time painting the walls. I would've slapped one coat on and called it a day. However, this kid was taking a fine brush to every crease and crevasse, like he was also getting graded.

When he painted his tongue fixated on his upper lip, his brows drew together in concentration. I had to admit; it was adorable and starkly different from watching him play baseball.

Intrusive thoughts disrupted my contentment. The girl dancing on Elijah last Friday in the basement, the way he kissed her neck and ignored me.My past...

Stop it, Sadie. He's not Ben. I scolded myself and chugged a hearty portion of my beer.

The lights flickered, and rumbling ensued. Where was this storm coming from? There was no mentioning of it earlier. I opened my phone to check the radar and saw we were now entering the mass of red on the map. There were no new notifications from my friends, so I texted Reva, asking if they were okay.

The room went dark again, but the power returned seconds later.

I gasped when the door creaked open. "Well, we have half a bag of popcorn," Elijah said as the smell of salt and butter filled the space. "It's getting terrible out there."

"I'd say." The trees swayed outside as if the wind was trying to pull them from the earth.

He yanked a stool over to sit beside me and tore the bag open, only to reveal roughly twenty pieces of popcorn. Our eyes locked, and we burst out laughing.

"Bon appetite," I cheered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think the power would go out mid-pop." He sounded disappointed.

"It's okay." Laughter was still pouring from me. "Beer and four pieces of popcorn will fill me up."

He looked at me through slitted eyes from my sarcasm, but we munched away, listening to the storm.

Then it went completely dark. Unearthly silence settled over the building and all I could hear was the pounding rain, wind, and our breathing. No more music or the hum of electricity. Silence.

"Elijah," I dragged out his name after a minute had passed and the lights never came back on.

"Well, shit."

"I can't see."

"Me either," he laughed, but concern swarmed through my body like a tsunami. Lightning poured through the windows as bright as the baseball stadium lights, and I saw Elijah staring. His brown eyes scanned my face from top to bottom. When it went dark again, I felt his hand on my knee. My body ignited with warmth.

"It will be okay," his voice was soft. "I'll see if I can find a flashlight or candles in the maintenance room."

Did I look frightened? I wasn't scared of thunderstorms, but the fact I wasn't in the comfort of my bedroom immediately putting Twilight on my TV slightly troubled me.

The screeching of a stool ensued and my knee went cold. "I'll be right back." He reassured me and turned his phone flashlight on to leave.

Ugh, I threw my head into my hands. This was just my luck.

I didn't care what my painting looked like. Whatever I painted before the power went out was what I'd turn in on Monday. This was the universe's way of telling me to give up or to be satisfied with what I had accomplished.

Nonetheless, I clearly had trouble with being content.

A bright light flashed through the door frame and though I couldn't see, I heard the shaking of what seemed to be plastic. "I found tea-light candles."

"Oh, nice. Do we have a lighter, though?"

"I have one in my bag. Before you ask, I don't smoke. Brant left it in my car."

"Aw, Brant's cigarette addition came in handy."

Elijah shook his head against his laugher and lit the candles, placing them by the furthest wall, away from the window which was taking a beating.

Candle by candle, his face became clear, and it didn't take long for the area to glow a dim yellow. My heart rate waned, and I hoisted my project from the easel, walking it toward the drying rack.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I sighed. "I'm done with this stupid thing. I think there is bad luck attached to it. Can you open another beer for me?"

"Sure." He shuffled to his backpack, and I heard the air release when he popped the cap. Setting my pallet in the sink, I joined him against the wall and took the bottle. "We should probably wait out the storm. It doesn't seem safe to drive in."

Although I'd rather be in my bed, I nodded.

"Looks like you're stuck with me tonight." He nudged my shoulder. "Just what you wanted."

Just what I wanted.

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