“Of course, that’s fine.” And it will be fine. We can work together… alone… just fine. Doesn’t have to be weird. “Take a seat, and we’ll get these done together.”

We work on grading the papers for the next few hours. We talk here and there, and Cash puts on some quiet music to listen to while we go through them. At one point, we took a break and went to get some snacks and drinks from the vending machine before coming back and resuming our work. I feel silly for panicking when he first got here. This is going well. It’s comfortable being here with him.

The storm doesn’t let up. It’s dark out now, and the thunder is loud as hell, rain pounding on the window. The lights keep flickering, probably about to go out at any minute.

“I really don’t understand why these have to be printed out. It seems so counterproductive,” Cash mumbles.

“I know. It doesn’t make sense. Professor Dillion is old school.” As I finish my sentence, the lights flicker twice before going out completely. We’re covered in darkness as the storm rages outside. I wait for the generator to kick on, but it never does.

“Shiiit.” I can barely make out Cash’s silhouette a few feet from me at his desk.

“I know,” I agree. “Want to help me find the breaker room? Maybe we can kick-start the backup generator.”

“Let’s do it. You got a flashlight, or do you have your phone? Mine’s at home.”

“We can use the light on my phone.” I laugh as we leave the classroom.

We make our way down the hallway, toward the stairwell, heading down to the first floor, where I believe the breaker room to be. By the silence that greets us in the halls, it looks like we’re the only ones here right now.

The rain is really coming down outside. We peek out the window once we get on the main level, and there’s at least an inch or two of standing water.

“Here, I think this is it.” He walks up to a closed door, twisting the knob. “Locked. Dammit.”

“Okay, let’s just go back up to the classroom. I’ll text the dean and see if he can help.”

We make it back to the classroom and I try to call the dean, but my phone dies. How did I not notice it was low battery?

“Shit, my phone died? You said your phone is at home?”

“Uhh, yeah. I accidentally left it on my bed when I ran out to get the papers.”

A thunderous roar booms so loud, it rattles the windows. Goddamn, this is one hell of a fucking storm. Thunderstorms are common here, but not usually like this.

“Alright, guess we better get comfortable,” I grumble.