This was a joke. 

It was a—

I took a moment to swallow down the bile that spontaneously crept up my throat. 

It was a fraternity. It was a goddamn frat house!

I learnt this from a guy who came had just come out of that despicable building. Apparently, he was a "fraternity Brother", or some crap like that. And then, just before going back into the house, he proceeded to yell a few chants our way, because my "accent" made him think I was "part of a chapter". Whatever that was. 

"What do you mean, what? She's in there," Arya ever-so-casually stated, as if it were a five star hotel that Gemma was inside. 

"This is a fraternity."

"Well, duh."

"Gemma Reynolds lives in a... a  frat house?!"

"She doesn't live in here, genius. Fraternities are for guys."

I smiled bitterly. "Oh? That's nice, well, okay, erm yeah, here's the thing... why did you bring us here, then?" I practically screamed that interrogatory question. 

Everest interfered, before I could burst someone's cochlea. And by someone, I mean Arya's. 

"Where is Gemma?" Needless to say, there was more life on Saturn than there was in his voice. 

Arya backed away a little bit. "Hey, hey, first of all, get your girl under control. I can't think when she's all up in my face like that." She wiped fake sweat off her forehead. "Although, I do admire the feistiness," she added, with a wink. "And second, I swear it! Gemma's in there!"

I grabbed her watch. "Listen, sister, it's eleven pm!" I yelled, showing her, her own watch. "Do you know what that means? It means, it's six am in Britain! I may be a supersuperhuman or whatever you wish to call it, but one privilege the Front did not give me is enable my body to manipulate fatigue! That means, when it's late some people get tired! That means I'm tired! So, either you stop playing games with us and tell us where Gemma really is, or I kid you not, I will—"

I stopped. 

I blinked. 

I cocked my head. "His girl?"

Hmm, that sounds nice. 

No it doesn't! "That's objectifying women! I will not stand for it!" I inner feminist dribbled out some nonsense. 

And I definitely won't stand for those those loathsome, repelling, abominable quivers that just ran down my spine. 

"Oh, is it? Sorry!" Arya apologised with lack of conviction. "But, Emerald, you look like a smart person, so when I say she's in there, I'm sure you can understand that what I'm trying to say is; she's in there."

I glanced at Everest who was standing there with his arms crossed. Always making me do the work! I couldn't complain, it was to find my cure anyway. He glanced back at me before I turned to face Arya again. 

"Why on Earth – or any other planets in the universe for that matter – would Gemma Reynolds – and when I say Gemma Reynolds, I don't mean Gemma smith, or Gemma Carson, or any other Gemmas in the world, I mean, Gemma Reynolds, the daughter of a late evil billionaire – be in a frat house?" 

She scratched the back of her head in response, "Well... there is that thing... no, I really shouldn't say."

"Say what?" I interrogated. 

"Nothing!"

"No, go on, there is something."

"I don't know if should..."

"Tell me."

She fiddled with her thumbs. "Weeeeell..."

"Arya..."

"Don't "Arya" me! Gemma will have my head if I told anyone, let alone you."

I smiled an evil smile. "Oh, but, Arya! I will have your head if you don't tell me! Literally." I batted my eyelashes at her. Okay, obviously not, I loved this girl; she was like another super-powerless version of me. 

She returned the smile; sarcasm written all over it. "Don't forget to put it in a cooler. Decomposition occurs in less than a week."

"Arya!" I warned. 

"Ok, alright!" She finally gave in. "But you heard none of this from me."

"Okay. Now tell us."

"The news said  Gemma attended MIT,  and graduated last year in July, right?"

"Yeah?"

Arya smirked. "What if I told you that she attends MIT?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"How do I put this?," she paused, thinking. "Gemma... hasn't graduated yet."

My jaw spontaneously dropped. Everest didn't go as far as dropping his chiseled jaw like me but his narrowed eyes loosened the tiniest bit.

"She hasn't... what?" I stuttered. 

"You heard me."

"You're messing with us." This was beyond unbelievable. "You're messing with me."

"The whole world knows," Everest spoke, "that the sole heir to Reynolds Corporation enrolled into MIT two years prior to the age requirements, because of Robert Reynolds' influence and that she graduated, making her eligible to run the company after Robert died." Nicely worded, Everest! You tell her!

"The world thinks she graduated," Arya replied. "True, her IQ point score was high enough for her to enroll early, but no, she hasn't yet graduated."

We stood there in utter silence as reality wept over us. The only noise that could be heard was the beat of the muffled music that oozed from inside the frat house. 

As per usual, I did it again. I laughed in a situation typical people wouldn't have found funny. I seriously couldn't help it this time. In fact, I threw my head back and laughed, tears gradually inching out of my eyes. I felt myself going off balance and had to hold on to Everest for support. "Gemma Reynolds hasn't even graduated from university yet!" I choked out. "Could you believe...? Oh, this is gold. No, this is platinum!"

"Is she always like this?" Arya asked Everest, as if I weren't there. 

"She's worse," the traitor replied. 

Then, abruptly, I stopped laughing as I realised something, which seemed to scare Arya even more so. "Wait. Who's running Reynolds Corporation if Gemma is still studying?"

"Robert's associates. The management team agreed with Robert years ago that the company must only be run by Gemma after she gains her degree, you know so she can maintain the company with some logic. Until then, technically she's just a college student."

I fell into another hysterical fit of laughter at that. "A c-college student! Do you know what they say about her on the news? That the Gemma Reynolds is a 'strong, independent woman' for taking the role of her father at 'such a young age'. But then, oh god..." I paused to catch my breath, "she's just a college student!" At that moment, Everest moved away, causing me to stumble forwards.

"You realise," he pointed out, "regardless of whether or not she graduated, Gemma is the one who made your cure, right?" 

Again, my laughter ceased, this time, because reality slapped me in the face. 

"Alright then, I guess she deserves some of the praise," I muttered, bitterly, before turning to Arya. "One more question. Why is she in a frat house if she's, you know, a girl? I mean, at least I think she is. But as I was saying, aren't American frat houses meant to be for guys?" 

"It's a frat party, genius."

Of course. 

"So let me get this straight: Gemma Reynolds is actually a university student who is currently partying away in that house, at this very moment," I clarified, pointing at the colossal house. 

"Yes."

"In this frat house?"

"Yes."

I turned to Everest. "Figures, she's American after all."

"What you just said is highly controversial. Especially with Americans," he replied.

Arya cleared her throat. "I'm also American, and yes, I'd agree with Everest about the whole controversial thing, exccept, this came from Emerald, so I'll let it slide," she remarked, giving me a wink. 

"See, Everest? You're not always right," I commented, rolling my eyes just to tick him off. And ticked off he was, for his jaw clenched for a millionth of a second. "So, Arya what were your limited uni days like?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"Let's go." Everest instructed, before she could answer, taking my arm.

"Wait—" Gosh, it was bloody mission impossible trying to keep up with his long strides – even for me. "Don't pull me like I'm some inanimate obje— woah!" We stood in front of the door. It was huge. And open. 

"Once we're inside, locate Gemma," Everest said. "That's it. Don't waste time. We locate Gemma, and you speak to her. We're leaving with her cure." 

"Woah, woah, woah. Why do I have to speak to her?"

He gave me an almost bored look, and it clicked. 

"Oh. Right. Because she doesn't know you exist."

"And we're going to keep it that way."

"If you say so," I started toward the door when he pulled me back. 

"Stay by my side."

I smiled. "Okay, Romeo." 

"I mean it," he said, more sternly. "We haven't got time to waste, we need to stick to the plan, so don't leave my side. Is that clear?"

I nodded. 

Before fully pushing through the door, I turned back to Arya who was still standing at a far distance near the car. "Sorry for the, uh, integration!" I yelled. "Have a safe journey ho—"

"Come on," the iceberg demanded and pulled me into the frat house. 

***

People. A lot of them. In a small space. And it was not a good feeling. 

Okay, the house was huge, but with this many people in it, it felt like a being inside a mockingly narrow cave.

Why so many people? Did the person hosting this party even know all of these people? Or, was it a group of people hosting the party together? I mean it was a fraternity. How could a sole person afford this much food for this many people, anyway? And what is that pretty looking bottle of brown tinted liquid over there, and why were so many people fighting over it? Oh wait, it was that malicious substance Director never let me try. Alcohol. Evil stuff. And, more importantly, people. 

Keep it together, Emerald. Keep it together. 

But I couldn't. Walk, that is. 

Of course you can, Em! With legs! You know how it works. Left, right, left, right.

"Move," Everest ordered.

When he realised that I doing the opposite of what he had instructed, he turned around. Ugh, now I looked all vulnerable and stupid. Way to feed his ego, Emerald. 

But, he didn't look at me as if I were a vulnerable or stupid. And trust me, I knew that look. No, he looked me intently, a definite lack of frostiness in his expression. 

"What?" I asked, innocently, attempting to blanket the low level anxiety growing in me.

"What's wrong?" It was two words that were asked just as quick as finger snap, in the epitome of monotone voices. Yet they breathed to life, the none existent butterflies in my stomach. 

"No they didn't!" I exclaimed aloud like some madwoman. Now, he looked at me as if I had lost my sanity. Stupid extrovert personality! "Ignore me."

However, one more shove from a pair of dancing couple was all that was needed for, what I was not prepared to call anxiety, to come sprinting back to me. I closed my eyes, hoping it would go away soon. My undisciplined legs seemed to be planted to the spot, which unfortunately for me, was in the middle of the dance floor - and yes, they had an actual dance floor. 

Seconds later, I felt stern hands on either sides of my shoulders. When I reopened my eyes, I saw Everest's face inches before mine. "What's wrong?" he asked, more persistently.

Ha! If he thought I was going to utter anything about this maybe-anxiety business, he thought wrong!

I kept my mouth shut for several seconds. Then, out of nowhere I was pulled by the arm through the crowd, and when we were out of the human mess, I was led up a stairway. When I say led, I mean, I dragged up it. The first thing that came to mind was that there were less people up here. Good. I sat on the floor against a wall, mind half spinning. 

Everest crouched in front of me. He regarded my face for a moment, and then backed away. "You're claustrophobic."

"What...?" I found trouble paying attention to what he was saying. However, the newly given space already seemed to make everything a little better. 

"Breathe," he instructed, curtly. 

"I am breathing!" It was just hard to. 

"You're not breathing properly. You need to inhale a full breath, and then exhale a full breath."

"I—" can't. But I didn't finish off that sentence. 

"Look at me," he said, "into my eyes."

I followed as instructed, staring into his almost black eyes, his enigmatic eyes which possessed the thinnest blue—No, that's definitely worse. My blood pressure certainly just just shot up. 

"Breathe."

Stop looking at me! It's not helping!

He took my hand in his, and my heart rate shot up about fifty more beats per minute. 

What are you doing?! You're making it worse! You're going to be the reason I suffer cardiac—

"Do you know Fick's Law? he asked, out of nowhere, my hand still in his. 

What the hell? 

"Rate of diffusion," he continued, "equals surface area multiplied by concentration gradient over—"

"Diffusion pathway, yeah, what—"

"It helps explain why diffusion of oxygen from your lungs into the bloodstream happens quickly." 

I was incredibly confused – not because of what he was saying, but because of why. 

He went on, "the huge surface area and thinness of your alveoli walls creates a short diffusion pathway for oxygen to rapidly diffuse from the alveoli to the capillaries," his voice was low and didactic, like an adult telling a story to child. "The alveoli's walls are also elastic in order to recoil when exhilaration takes place. This pushes the oxygen-poor air out, so that once you inhale, oxygen rich air can replace it – which creates a concentration gradient for your alveoli and capillaries, so that by laws of diffusion, the oxygen will diffuse into your blood."

"I don't understand..."

"But none of this can happen if there's no oxygen entering your lungs in the first place," he looked me more sternly now. 

"I— why are you educating me on biology?" I asked, dumbfounded, not gasping for air as much as I was, about a minute ago. 

"I'm not educating you," he said, coldly. I'm trying to stop you from dying of oxygen deficiency. 

I frowned. "What?"

"You were distracted enough to focus on something other than not being able to breathe. Now you're fine."

Strangely, I was. So, all I had to do was breathe better? A simple task that only required the unconscious part of the brain to undertake? Even infants were capable of such a thing!

"Why, couldn't I...?" I halted on the last word – the result of a lack of oxygen in my lungs, yet again. 

"Don't think about it," he said, almost scoldingly. "Just do it."

I took an identical breath to before. 

"Like I said, you're claustrophobic." 

"Claustrophobic?" As if!

"Fear of small spaces—"

"I know what it is! And, I'm not that! I mean, I don't have that."

"Yes, you do."

"Oh yeah?" I rebuked, feeling a pang of irritancy. "And how would you know?" 

"Medical records." 

I arched an eyebrow. "You studied my medical records?"

"If you're under the impression that I did it willingly, I didn't. It was just the necessary protocols, set by Director, in order to carry out the termination without any complications."

Charmer. 

"So you studied my medical records to kill me better?"

"If you want to oversimplify it." He locked his eyes onto mine. "But, right now, it's the only thing preventing you from having an anxiety attack."

"Anxiety attack?" I scoffed. "I don't even know the meaning of the words."

"Now you know: it's what you just experienced."

"I did not experience an anxiety attack!" This was him making me seem weak! As if I were foolish enough to fall for such an absurd illusion! No, I was strong — stronger – and smart, and independent, and most definitely not weak—

"Then, what do you call that?" he inquired. 

"That was... that was..." I stuttered. 

No, no! Get a grip, Emerald! Adjectives, nouns! We need them! 

"Well?" he provoked. 

Now would be helpful! 

"It..." I groaned in frustration, "just shut up!"

"So, you accept the reality of the matter?"

"No! This is... this is..." 

Words! Now is not the time for a vacation, brain!

"Ridiculous?" he offered. 

Oh, that son of a—

"What part of shut up don't you understand?" I snapped. 

Suddenly, he leaned close to me. "Just handle the truth, 202. We are not always as strong as we think we are."

Translation: You are not as strong as you think you are.

How dare he!

Just then, something occurred to me,

that caused me to swallow my fury. "You just said 'we'." 

He cocked his head. 

"What you just said means you are just as fragile, then," I remained calm – or as calm as one could be, as they are  being degraded by someone else. 

He didn't say it, and he certainly wore no expression to mirror this thought, but somehow it occurred to me that he was probably thinking something along the lines of: she has finally lost her marbles. 

I couldn't exactly blame him. I'd say I had lost my marbles too, if I weren't me, because I had just called him fragile! Granite is anything but fragile. And, he was granite. But then again, he was also human – with a few upgrades – but a human, nevertheless...

"If you think you are stronger than me, you are wrong," I deadpanned. "Sure, you might not have claustrophobia – not that I'm accepting that I have it. But there's a whole world full of fears that just may bring out the— what's the word again? – ah, anxiety in you."

Where are you going with this, Emerald?

Now he looked at me as if I had lost my sanity as well as my marbles. 

Without warning, I moved. 

"What are you doing?" 

What was I doing?

I pushed him against the wall. "I'm making you accept the reality of the matter," I fired his words back at him. 

And then, I pressed my lips against his. 

That's it. You've finally lost it. 

He stiffened. He didn't do that the first time he kissed me. In fact, back then, I was the one doing the stiffening, whilst he remained as cold as ever. Now, the tables had turned. 

I wrapped my hand around half of his jaw and and half of his throat, convincing myself that it was only to check his pulse, and for no other reason. It increased like the pulse of an antelope suspecting a predator. And, it proved my point! He was just as human as me! Only better at concealing it. 

But, what the actual hell are you doing? 

And, why on earth did I find myself actually liking it? 

No, no, no, no, no. You need to find therapy, that's what you need!

Because in truth, I would have been lying if I said that I particularly regretted the decision.  

No! You do regret it! You have proven your point, now cease this immediately! You're freaking him out!

And so I did. Cease the kiss, that is. And maybe freaked him out, too. I brought myself to stare into the deepest depths of his dilated pupils. 

I am so dead. 

"I told you," I started almost shakily. Almost. "You are frag—" 

Cutting off my statement, his lips enveloped over mine. 

Holy Mother of Amphion and Zethus!

Now, I was having anxiety attack... but simultaneously, I liked it. 

Uh-uh. Nope. You did not just think that. Deleting those thoughts immediately, and pushing him away in, three, two, one...

Grabbing his steel body closer, I kissed him back. Hard. 

What? Those were not the orders I gave you! Stop acting like an uncivilised cavewoman, and hit him over the head with the nearest object, you fool!

His hands cupped my face, deepening the kiss. Oh my God. 

Bist du krank, Emerald?! 

Uh-oh the German came out. 

Detecting the low levels of common sense in my brain, the German also knocked in a load of this special quality, which I was lacking up until this moment. Thank you, German. 

With all the newtons I could muster, I pushed. 

And yes, as absurd as it sounded, I was having difficulty breathing. But, so was he! It proved nothing! 

Then it dawned onto me, he had just kissed me. 

I gasped. 

He just kissed me!

I mean, I kissed him before, as well, but that was with purpose. Why would he—? And then, I kissed him back!

I gasped again, which, by now, probably sounded like I was having respiratory problems. 

Did hades' demons escape hell? How could I..? Why did I..? Why did he...? No, you did not like it. I think. No, it's not a thinking matter, it's an 'it is' matter! The claustrophobia did something satanic to you, and now you've lost your mind! Hold on just a second! I don't have claustrophobia! I refuse to believe it! Wait, why is he looking at me like that? It sort of makes me want to grab that beautiful face again, and—

Doing the most reasonable thing in that situation, I bolted. 

***