It's Called Sarcasm [1] ⌲ Twombly

02 | partners

I somehow manage to get most of my stuff put away before the "Noogler" gathering in the downstairs auditorium begins. The minute I walk in I have to stop myself from bursting into a fit of laughter right there in the doorway. Everyone has on multicolored baseball caps that said "Noogler" across the bill and a little pinwheel on the top. Literally everyone is wearing them, so of course, I figure I should be too. I look around for some sort of station where I could find one, but the whole place is buzzing and it's hard to tell. Finally, to save myself some embarrassment, I decide to ask.

"Hey, um, excuse me?" I say, tapping on the shoulder of a rather tall man. He turns around and raises his eyebrows. "Sorry, I was just wondering where I could find one of those little hats?" I ask, biting my lip.

"Oh! Here, take mine. I can grab another," he says, taking off his cap.

"Oh, no, no, that's okay, I just need to know where to grab one." I smile shyly.

"Hey, don't worry about it! Here." He places the cap on top of my brown curls and smiles at me. "Looking good," he says, and I can't help but laugh.

"Thank you. I'm Mack," I say, offering my hand for him to shake.

"Billy McMahon. Nice to meet you." He says. "Hey, Nick! Nickelodeon, c'mere! I want you to meet someone!" He calls over to his friend. Nickelodeon? Another man with shaggy blonde hair approaches, a wide smile on his lips. "Nick, this is Mack. She's in the internship program with us!" Billy says as I shake Nick's hand. I raise my eyebrows.

"Oh, you guys are interns too?" I ask with a shy smile.

"That's right. I know we're a little old, but hey, better late than never." Nick jokes and I laugh softly.

"Oh please, at least people know you're not a freaking teenager. I mean, I'm 20 years old and I look about 12." I chuckle.

"Well, 20 is the age where you either look 10 or 30, so trust me, you're good." Nick jokes and I smile with a nod. "Well, I should probably go find a seat. Thanks again for the hat, I really appreciate it." I smile over at Billy.

"It's not a problem. Good luck." He says and I smile before walking around the two men to find a seat. I'll admit I thought it was kind of weird that they were interns, but they were pretty nice too. An elbow jabs itself into my side and I yelp, bracing myself to hit the floor before a pair of arms catch me midair. I look up at my savior, who turns out to me no other than Stuart Twombly. He looks down at me and smirks.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this, Adams." He says, helping me balance myself. I huff out a breath and tip my head, raising my eyebrows.

"At least I wasn't texting this time." I joke, but before he can reply I hear a voice behind me.

"I'm sorry, was that you I hit?" I turn around to see a rather tan guy in front of me, his eyebrows bushier than the shrubs outside my house.

"Uh, yeah. It was actually." I say, adjusting my bag strap on my shoulder.

"So sorry about that, love. Got places to be, y'know?" He winks. I raise my eyebrow with a blank expression. The hell does he think he is?

"Right. Well, why don't you go then instead of flirting with me, pretty boy." I say, and Stuart snorts behind me. The guy in front of me looks at me, offended.

"Your loss. Not many get a piece of Graham Hawtrey." He says confidently.

"I feel bad for the few who manage." I say casually before flopping down beside Stuart. Graham scoffs before marching off back up the steps, looking kind of similar to an upset toddler in that hat. I cross my legs under me and look over at Stuart, who's mouth is hanging open in surprise. "Here, let me." I say, tipping the bottom of his jaw up so his mouth shut. He rolls his eyes, but grins at me.

"The level of sass in that conversation was almost too much for me too handle," he joked, raising his eyebrows. I smirk.

"Hey, you signed up for this when you said hello." I warn.

"Technically you rammed face first into my chest, so..." He says, looking back down at his phone.

"Oh, shut up." I tease, bumping his shoulder with my own, making him chuckle. The crowd finally settles and looks up at the front of the auditorium when a man with a microphone comes onto the stage.

"Hello, all! My name is Roger Chetty, and I am the head of the Google intern program. Welcome to Google." He begins. "This will not be your average internship, oh no. You will do what we do. And we will watch how well you do it. You represent the finest schools, but to excel at this internship, You are going to need far more than brain power." I snort softly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need some coffee too." I whisper over to Stuart, who laughs softly.

"What you're going to need," Chetty continues. "is googliness." He says, to which almost all of the auditorium bursts into laughter. Chetty only shakes his head.

"Nothing funny. Googliness is the stuff that made a search engine, into an engine for change."

"I can't tell if that's really stupid or really deep." I whisper, and Stuart snorts.

"Both." He mutters.

"Now, you will be divided up into teams. By the end of the summer, only one team will be offered a full time position. The other 95% of you? Not." My eyes go wide. Only 5% of the people here get the job? How is that fair? "I would wish you luck," Chetty says as he comes to a close. "But it's not luck that you need. Get to work!" He says, and suddenly everyone is running around trying to find their teams.

"So," I say, making Stuart take his eyes off his phone to look at me. "I'm Stanford, you're Yale, I say we'd make a pretty great team." I shrug. "What do you say, Stewie?" I ask, holding out my hand. "Partners?" He looks at me hand and then back up at me, that cute little half smile of his appearing on his lips as he nods, and shakes my hand.

"Partners."