Deadline≫hemmings a.u

0.9

"Wait here for Michael," Luke ordered, pointing to the lounge employees must have hung around, complete with a leather couch, a few desktops, and smaller section where there was a sink, fridge, coffee maker, microwave, and vending machine. "Here's a few quarters, knock yourself out."

Luke pulled about two and a half dollars worth of quarters from his pocket and dumped them into my hands, pointing to the vending machine. Without another word, Luke turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, disappearing into a room on the right.

"I'm not five," I muttered, but I turned away anyway and looked at the vending machine. After a minute, I finally decided on Cheetos over a Rice Crispy Treat and also got a bottle of water. I paced around the kitchenette area for a while. Absentmindedly, I forced a few Cheetos into my mouth but I quickly abandoned them seeing as my nerves would hardly calm down enough for me to eat.

Two minutes later, the elevator opened.

"Michael," I said, relieved. For some odd reason, I was on an edge. I was worried anything could go wrong. Like especially getting caught. I hadn't known Michael or Luke for long-at the moment I wasn't too fond of the blonde-but I didn't really want anything bad to happen to them. And there was a good chance I'd be dragged down too.

"Hey," he said quietly as he stopped my my side. "Got the note."

He was dressed in a dark gray button up that covered the tattoo bands around his arms and his To The Moon tattoo with his usual black skinny jeans. I didn't understand what was with these boys and those skintight jeans that even my arms wouldn't be able to fit in. Michael had swapped his black boots for simple black and white Converse. His red hair, still messy and bright, was mainly tucked beneath a beanie, save for the pieces that fell across his forehead. Like Luke, Michael took out his piercing. Michael's eyes flicked down the hall. "Hug me."

I gave him an odd look but before I could say anything, he pulled me against him and hid his face in my shoulder. "Someone was walking around."

"Oh." Hesitantly, I returned the gesture as I understood the point of this. I turned my head to whisper in his ear. "The room's down the hall. On the right, third door down."

"Thanks," Michael patted me on the back and pulled away.

I nodded in response.

"Nervous?" Michael asked in a casual tone, in case anyone overheard us. I bit my lip, wondering why he wouldn't just hurry up and go so we could leave as soon as possible.

"Beyond belief," I admitted and he chuckled.

"Sit down," he advised. "You're shaking like a leaf."

"Oh." I looked down at my trembling legs and realized he was right. I stepped back and sat on the leather couch that faced the low wooden coffee table. My hands still shook, but I folded them together on my lap.

"Don't be." He gave me a reassuring smile. "We've done this billions of times before. We're pros."

I wasn't really sure whether that made me feel better or worse.

"Just take it easy and keep a look out." Michael said as he turned away and walked down the hall. I watched as he rapped on the door with his knuckles in a rhythm that sounded oddly like the opening of the theme song in How I Met You Mother. The door slightly opened and Michael slipped in, shutting it behind him.

I sat there quietly, trying to seem as unnoticeable and relaxed as possible, but I probably failed terribly. I decided to use one of the books on the coffee table as my coverup so I didn't stick out like a sore thumb. It seemed worked successfully. People came and went through the elevator and into offices-none of them where the ones Michael and Luke were in-without even giving me a second glance.