Chapter Three

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   I yawn and check my watch again.

   10:16. The lights shut off an hour ago and our only sources of brightness have been our phones.

   My mom's probably flipping a shit right now. I was supposed to call her when I left my dad's office. She's probably screaming at Dad, making an already delicate situation worse.

   And what about Dad? I would expect someone to have attempted to use the elevator by now. Do they seriously use the stairs all the time? There are twelve freaking floors in this building. I wouldn't walk up that many flights of stairs even if someone told me Channing Tatum was naked and waiting for me on the top floor with a jumbo Hershey's bar.

   Maybe if he was holding a box of Lindt truffles...

   But I digress.

   "Erin," I hear Niall mumble from a few feet away. The last few hours have been a mix of talking, iPod games, listening to music, and snacking. He's gotten bored of me, I can tell. I hate to admit it, but I'm bored of him, too. We've small-talked ourselves into a stupor and now neither of us can think of an interesting topic. We've completely avoided anything One Direction by silent agreement, but I think he might crack and bring it up very soon.

   "Yeah?" I pause my game of Tiny Wings and look up and across at him.

   "I gotta..." he blushes and looks back at his phone.

   "What?" I ask, confused.

   "I gotta...you know..." he gestures vaguely to his lower region. "What do I do?"

   "Oh...there's a...um...hole over there in the corner." I point to the hole I saw earlier and he looks at me, mortified.

   "I gotta piss in a hole?" he asks, obviously really uncomfortable.

   "I won't look," I reassure him. I face my wall and focus really intently on Tiny Wings. C'mon you stupid bird; slide down the hill! Slide down the freaking hill!

   I hear Niall get up and walk over to the corner, and then a zip that's louder than we both expected it to be.

   "Can you cover your ears, too?" He sounds like a five-year-old. I put my iPod down, close my eyes and place my palms tightly over my ears.

   I just love the fetal position.

   A short amount of time later, I feel the nudge of his foot in my back. I remove my hands from my ears.

   "Is the coast clear?" I ask while my eyes are still scrunched.

   "Yeah, I'm done," Niall grumbles. I open my eyes, stand up and go straight to my plastic bags.

   "What're you doing?" Niall almost pokes my shoulder but I whack his wrist away.

   "No!" I exclaim sharply. I rummage a bit more and pull out a small bottle filled with hand sanitizer. "Hold out your hands, palms up, please."

   Niall hesitantly obeys. I pour a small dollop of liquid onto both his hands. I stare at him.

   "What?" he asks stupidly.

   I mime soaping my hands. He sighs with realization and does the same. I suppress a giggle because he looks like he's plotting something maniacally evil.

   After he finishes scrubbing, he lifts up his hands to his nose and sniffs. Niall makes the "Obama Not Bad" face and puts his hands back down.

   "What scent is that?" he wonders.

   "You mean the sand hanitizer?" I ask, not meeting his eyes.

   "Yeah, is it like apple or--wait." He pauses. "Did you just say 'sand hanitizer'?"

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