I RELEASED MY grip on the handle, letting the door to the cafe fall closed behind me.

With my headphones firmly secured in my ears, I barely registered the voice calling my name, instantly greeted by the warm aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. Mugs was swirling with activity as usual, but I paid no mind as I made a beeline for the front counter, eager to get something into my bloodstream that would help me kick myself into gear.

I flinched when I felt a tap on my shoulder, instinctively plucking out an earbud and turning around. Ravi Mizrahi stood behind me, an amused look twinkling in his brown eyes, sporting his usual leather jacket and disheveled hair. I relaxed at the sight of him, fully removing my headphones, and fixing him with an easy smile.

"Oh, hey," I greeted, somewhat sheepishly, embarrassed at my inattention. I raised the wiry cord a little higher. "Sorry about that."

"We keep meeting like this," he teased, quirking an eyebrow.

I shrugged good-naturedly. "You can always find me where the caffeine is."

"Noted. Now I know where to look." His lips lifted in a half-smile. "I almost didn't want to interrupt you. Seemed like you were out to kill." His eyes dropped to the phone in my hand, curiosity sparkling on his face. "What were you listening to?"

Flushing, I let out a bashful laugh. "Oh, um, nothing, really—"

Before I could stammer anything else, he extracted the phone from my grasp easily, eyebrows raising once he got a good look at the song. "System of a Down? Damn, Abbott. Everything okay?"

I snatched my phone back, securely sticking it into the pocket of my jeans, my mouth twitching slightly. "Sometimes I need to listen to music that doesn't let me think about things." Really, it was just something to tide me over until I got home and listened to the same Tame Impala song on repeat in my bedroom.

Ravi tilted his head to the side, appraising me, before gesturing for the two of us to head to the counter. "I'll have an Americano," he said, then held up a hand to stop the cashier from ringing it through, turning back to me. "What do you want? I'm buying."

"You don't need to do that, I can pay," I protested, unsure where the generosity had come from, but knowing his sister, I assumed it ran in the family.

He ignored my words. "If you don't pick, I'll pick for you," he warned, raising an eyebrow.

There were several beats of silence as I continued to look at him in surprise, until the person behind me in line cleared their throat impatiently, and I felt my cheeks warm again. "Um, in that case, I'll get a medium chai latte."

He turned to the cashier again, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. "Make that a large. And add a shot of espresso. Or three."

I gave him another look of confusion, causing him to shrug.

"No offense, but you look like you need it."

My mouth opened to retort, before I realized his assumption was unfortunately accurate.

We were only a few weeks into the semester, but school was already getting the better of me. Suddenly I was drowning in a never-ending pile of assignments and projects, working late into the night and forgoing sleep in order to get things done. I'd been up til three putting the finishing touches on a travel advert that was due for my visual composition class today, and I'd woken up early to pick up some recently developed photographs that I was going to scan and include in a project for graphics.

In my haste to leave the house, I hadn't done much in terms of my appearance. My face was makeup-free, which I was sure was evident by the faint circles beneath my eyes, and my hair had been haphazardly pulled into a messy bun, tendrils slipping loose every so often. The first initial days of school, I'd made an effort to wear something nice, but now I sported one of my dad's old, oversized sweaters, and a pair of jeans. My priorities had certainly shifted.

And, as always, Will was never far from my mind.

I was growing used to seeing him every Monday, but that didn't make it any less painful. The fact that he willingly chose to sit next to me week after week would never make sense. After the first day, I assumed it was a one-time thing, but, like clockwork, on Monday mornings he sat down in the seat beside me, shooting me a tentative smile with guarded eyes, before he unpacked his things. We never said much beyond a casual greeting, and a parting word when class ended, though sometimes we would share a look when Jen cracked a joke, or Connor, the apparent class-know-it-all, raised his hand to say something.

It was strange; I had fully intended on staying out of Will's way, and out of his life—after all, it was only fair—but he seemed hell-bent on making that task a lot harder than it needed to be.

Moments later, Ravi handed me my drink, and I smiled gratefully.

"Thanks," I murmured, wrapping my fingers around the cup and bringing it close to my face, allowing the steam to caress my skin as I breathed in the smell of the spices. It was comforting.

He shot me a knowing smile. "No problem." He paused, before nudging my arm with his elbow amicably. "I know it's tough, but don't be too hard on yourself, okay?"

"Thank you, Ravi," I reiterated, wondering if he knew more about me than he let on. "Coffee's on me next time."

"That's a promise now," he said, pointing at me seriously as he began to step backward toward the door. "And I recommend Slipknot. Great for not-thinking. See you around, Abbott."

My lips curved upward once more, and I lifted my hand in a wave. "I'll keep that in mind."

After signing off with his signature peace sign, he headed outside.

I was making my way to the parking lot at the end of the day when I was stopped by someone unexpected once more.

Duncan Fitzgerald was waiting beneath the modern arches of the main entrance, leaning against the wall, but he straightened when he saw me, a hesitant smile forming on his lips.

My shoulders tensed at the sight of him, any good feelings I had about heading home for the weekend rapidly dissipating into the atmosphere. We had both seemed to be avoiding each other since our awkward conversation in the kitchen at his house, even though it was over a month ago. Steeling myself, I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, dropping my gaze, and preparing to walk past him. Whatever he had to say, I was sure it would undoubtedly make me feel more terrible than I already did.

"Hey," he called out when he realized I was planning on ignoring him, "Vivienne, wait!"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to stop, hearing his footsteps trailing after me. I turned to face him, and we collectively stood to the side of the flow of students exiting the building. He pursed his lips, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Hey," I said tiredly, breaking the silence, wishing I was at home and in the process of crawling into bed.

He took my greeting as permission to speak, and wasted no time cutting to the chase. "Look, I'm sorry about. . . what I said to you. It wasn't my place. And I'm sorry I didn't apologize sooner."

His voice was sincere, words catching me off guard, and I could instantly feel my defenses dropping, guilt wriggling into my chest. "No, Duncan, it's okay." I sighed, shoulders drooping. "You weren't wrong. I might've overreacted."

"Nah, I was just being an asshole," he admitted. "I didn't need to be so rude. I hope you can forgive me."

I took a second to study my long-time friend. His deep brown eyes were kind, head bent forward imploringly. Duncan might've had a tendency to speak without thinking things through first, but his intentions were good, and I found his loyalty to Will admirable, despite how inconvenient it could be at times. And he was extending an olive branch. I couldn't help but take it.

My shoulders fully relaxed, the last of the tension leaving my body. "I can," I told him, and his face split into an appreciative grin. He held out his hand for a fist-bump, and I complied, lips quirking into a smile.

"Now that we got that out of the way, are you free tonight?"

I gave him a startled look.

"Wait, what? No. No. Not like that." He held his hands up in surrender, eyes widening. "No. Some of us are going to do an escape room tonight. We thought you might want to come?"

Just like that, my body went rigid once more, a feeling of unease growing in the pit of my stomach. "Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Naomi, Sabrina. . . Will," he finished awkwardly, as though he was trying not to cringe.

This conversation was beginning to make my head hurt. "Will," I repeated flatly, giving him a look. I wasn't foolish enough to believe it for a second. Despite the fact that his cool demeanor was starting to thaw, I was still convinced he hated me. "Will wants me to come."

"Well, he said it was okay," Duncan clarified, laughing nervously and reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "But Sabrina wants you there. And Naomi said she's not gonna come if you don't."

I grimaced, shaking my head and rubbing my arm self-consciously. "I don't think this is a good idea, Duncan," I confessed. For more reasons than one.

"Hey, you don't have to come if you're not feeling it," he said sincerely, shrugging his shoulders. "Just thought I would throw the invitation out there. You can text me or Naomi for the details if you're in."

Biting the inside of my lip, I found I couldn't get the frown to vacate my expression. "Okay." I nodded absentmindedly.

Duncan nodded too, as if he had finished his task for the day. "Maybe see you tonight?"

Pausing only a moment for my reply that never came, Duncan headed off toward the parking lot, leaving me to stew in my thoughts.

Why was Will okay with me encroaching on his territory and spending time with him and his girlfriend? It would make things so much easier if he weren't. He should've hated me. He was supposed to hate me. I had the sudden urge to confront him, to ask him face to face so I could settle this once and for all.

More than anything, I was frustrated that the simple notion of Will being able to tolerate my presence woke up a flicker of hope within me that I'd been trying so hard to suppress.

"We so don't have to be here if you don't want to be," Naomi whispered into my ear seriously, her hand gripping my forearm as we walked toward the building.

I turned my head in her direction a little, trying to ignore the pounding rhythm of my heart. "It's okay," I whispered back.

The night air was cool in the parking lot, and I hauled as much as I could into my lungs, knowing it would be a little while before we were able to step outside again. In truth, I didn't know why I was here. The logical part of me knew that this was an incredibly stupid move. But the foolish part of me, the selfish one, couldn't tamp down the desire to see Will, to spend time with him, no matter the circumstances. It caused an ugly feeling of self-loathing to settle firmly in my belly. I couldn't believe I was willing to spend an evening trapped in a tiny room with my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend.

Especially since I'd been making a conscious effort to relinquish him from my grasp.

As though she'd sensed I was thinking about her, Sabrina slowed her pace so she could fall in line with Naomi and me, giving me a bright smile.

"I'm so glad you decided to come," she enthused. "I wasn't sure you would."

I did my best to return her smile, seeing the way Will looked over his shoulder at us in my periphery. His handsome features and somber eyes always felt like a punch to the gut. "Thanks for inviting me."

Suddenly I felt nauseous.

"This is going to be so much fun!" she continued, and I found myself wishing, as I had time and time again, that she wasn't so unfailingly kind. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so guilty. She gave my arm a squeeze, before catching up with Will again.

Naomi gave me a look. "For real," she murmured. "Say the word and we're gone."

I glanced at her quizzically. "I thought you wanted me to come. Duncan said you weren't in unless I was in too."

She scoffed. "I only said that because I didn't think you'd show and it would've felt wrong to be here without you."

Rewarding her with a tiny smile, I pulled her in for a side hug, causing our footsteps to falter. "You're a good friend," I told her gratefully.

"The best," she corrected with a weary sigh.

"The best," I repeated in agreement.

Once we were inside the building and had all paid and signed the appropriate waivers, the air felt a lot more stifling as it dawned on me what we were about to do. My pulse continued to race, distracting me from the game master's explanation of our backstory—something to do with being locked in a dungeon and held captive by monsters—before we were ushered into a room, the door latching shut behind us. I tried not to visibly flinch at the sound.

I couldn't tell if it was all in my head, but tension seemed to flood the room all at once, and I swallowed, avoiding everyone's eyes. I looked up at the large clock on the wall, counting down the time we had left. The fifty-eight minutes remaining felt like they were bound to last for all of eternity. It was dark, bars lining the walls to emulate an underground jail cell, and I felt my throat close up. There was the quiet shuffling of feet as everyone wandered off to inspect separate corners of the room, but I found myself rooted in place.

Sabrina noticed the lost look on my face, her footsteps slowing. "Vivienne, why don't you come help me look over here?"

Snapping out of my trance, I nodded, following her over to a dresser, noticing someone else eyeing me watchfully. Will was visible in my periphery, cautious and calculating, and my heart throbbed. Doing my best to ignore him, I opened each drawer, my brain not really processing what was inside of each one. Finally, when I opened the last one, I found a small key taped to the inside, and it clicked that it would most likely come in handy.

"Nice work!" Sabrina said over my shoulder, and I absentmindedly passed it to her, eyebrows furrowing.

As she went off to try it in a padlock that Duncan had found, I rose to my feet, finding that my legs trembled slightly, a sheen of sweat forming on my forehead. Was it just my imagination, or was the room shrinking in size? I glanced at the clock again, watching the seconds tick by at a snail's pace. Bracing my hand on the top of the dresser, I took in a steadying breath, closing my eyes for a brief moment.

"Shit," I whispered under my breath.

I felt a familiar presence beside me.

"Viv," a low voice uttered, causing me to tense. "You all good?"

I opened my eyes to see Will standing in front of me, his blue eyes clouded over in concern. There was a pinch between his eyebrows, some of his hair falling over his forehead. I did a quick sweep of the room, but no one seemed to notice us. "All good," I croaked out, nodding feebly. "It's just—it's hot in here."

My breathing was growing increasingly shallow. I had anticipated feeling uncomfortable, but I didn't think it was going to be this bad. I supposed all of my anxiety was piling up on top of itself, making things far worse than they needed to be. I tried to take a step, my head spinning, until my knees buckled, and a strong hand held me upright to keep me from falling. It was beginning to feel like the walls were slowly closing in, but I reminded myself it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.

"Easy now. Why don't you have a seat?" Will urged in a murmur.

"No, I'm fine, I—" I attempted to take another step, but my hand slipped from the top of the dresser and I began to careen to the ground.

Will caught me, guiding us both to the ground gently. The movement captured the attention of everyone else in the room.

"Vivienne?" Naomi was at my side in an instant, panic in her voice. "What's going on?"

I screwed my eyes shut, my heart leaping out of my throat.

This isn't happening.

Will ignored her, placing a hand on my back, smoothing it in a soothing circle, before he seemed to think better of himself, fingers going still once more. "Put your head between your knees," he instructed softly, and I complied, doing my best to bring more air into my lungs with quick breaths.

"We should get her out of here," he said, this time directing it to the rest of the group.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Naomi persisted, rubbing my arm. I assumed she thought it would bring me comfort, but it only made me feel even more suffocated.

"Will?" Sabrina's voice came next, filled with concern. "What's happening?"

I felt him turn back to me. My ears were starting to ring. "Keep breathing, Viv. That's it," he encouraged. I opened my eyes to meet his, seeing the look of immense relief dart across his face as I made attempts to slow down my breathing and regulate my heart rate.

He glanced at Sabrina again. "She's claustrophobic," he explained, voice strained with barely concealed worry.

"Really?" She took a frantic step forward, seemingly unsure of what to do. Her face clouded in a frown. "How do you know that?"

Duncan scoffed, nervously wringing his hands from his place next to her. "They did date for like three years, he's bound to know a few things."

The room went still, save for my hyperventilation.

My heart seized up, and Will's eyes grew wide, flashing to his girlfriend. Duncan seemed to realize his mistake then, face mirroring his best friend's, his complexion paling.

"Oh, fuck, I shouldn't have—" he started.

I looked at Sabrina hurriedly, barely able to see straight, yet still somehow managing to feel the need to vomit when I took in her crestfallen expression, her gaze darting between the two of us.