Before the phone interrupted him, Chris had been sitting in his office, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him and thinking with some malice about his present surroundings: he had to be at work since he’d been out sick on Wednesday, and as it was Friday night, the building was completely empty. How dare his boss (his dad) force him to make up the hours, when they both knew he’d had a perfectly legit excuse? It wasn’t like there was any work needing to be done now anyway. He couldn’t fix computer problems if there was no one there to cause them.

After the phone rang, however, Chris’ attitude toward the deserted building and the echoing buzz of the fluorescent lights changed drastically.

"This is Chris," he answered. He always wanted to say ‘Burger King, what’s your beef?’, but had never actually found the courage to do it.

"Chris, it’s Alison. I’m in the area; let’s go do something."

"Can’t. Working. Why don’t you go hang out with Leah?"

"She’s working too. And as much as I love loitering around the theater while she sweeps up popcorn… C’mon, you work for your dad! You never do anything there; you’ve told me so yourself. Leave and come hang out with me!"

"No, I actually have to stay here tonight… why don’t you come keep me company?" He was joking when he said it. He was bored here, why would anyone else want to subject themselves to such excitement?

"Okay. But there’d better be something there to entertain me." She sounded unnaturally cheerful about seeing him. He wondered what was on her mind, then remembered the conversation they’d had the other night. But… No, Alison would never actually go through with something like that.

"Um… I’ve got a few rolly chairs in my office," he offered feebly.

"Sounds great! I’ll be there in a few minutes. My friend is dropping me off, so you’d better be there to open the door. Don’t you dare let me freeze my ass off in the cold!" She hung up.

Chris blinked a few times, to make sure he was really there. He considered pinching himself, but then decided that people only do that in cartoons.

"Tonight is the night it will happen," he thought, feeling rather prophetic as he did so, though it was no big secret between them, what would almost inevitably be taking place that night. They had been talking about it for a few weeks now and had come to the unspoken conclusion that it would happen the next time they saw each other. "Oh God, she’s gonna jump me as soon as I walk out there."

One of Ali’s friends had dared her to do it, actually. At least that’s what she’d told him. That she had to, just to know. He hadn’t argued; he would take what he could get. The only specification he’d made was that Ali had to do it. It was a good challenge for her; she had never been the dominant type, and he wondered whether she could actually conjure up enough courage to do it. Anyway, he was curious as well. After all, he’d been friends with her and Leah for so long that a need to know had developed. Sure, he’d had feelings for them, but not nearly as strong as they’d perceived. More, it was just wondering what it would be like to date them or to kiss them. And tonight, at least one of these questions would most likely be answered.

He was waiting outside the building when the car pulled up. Contrary to what he had predicted, Ali did not run up and kiss him before he had a chance to speak. But as she walked confidently toward him in jeans and an oversized black sweater, her bag and ponytail swinging with every step, he vowed to himself that he would somehow manipulate her into doing it before that night was over. "I’m the first to admit that I’m a bastard," he thought, and grinned hello.

He led her through the white, dimly lit hallways of the building until they came to his office. It was a large, impersonal-looking room with no windows, containing a huge computer desk, cabinets, counters, a few tables, a copy machine, a white board, and the promised "rolly chairs." Ali tossed her bag aside on the countertop, straddled one of the chairs, and began wheeling around the room on it. Chris noted how easily amused she was, and went back to checking his email. He knew the silence wouldn’t last; it was all just a matter of who would be the first to give in to the tension, which lingered in the air like a bad perfume.

"This is some cubicle you’ve got here," Ali was still on the chair, navigating the perimeter of the room.

"It’s not a cubicle; it’s an office."

"It’s an oversized cubicle…with a door. Offices have windows and plants and artwork on the walls."

"It’s an office. The reason why it’s so empty is that I share it with three other guys. I don’t work full time, so I don’t get my own space."

"You’re delusional." He didn’t turn around, but he could feel the laughter in her eyes, hot on the back of his neck. "So is this what you get paid God-knows-how-much to do all day? Check email?"

"Sometimes. If there’s no real work to do, I can do pretty much whatever I want… just as long as I’m here."

"Sweet. Well, since the building’s empty, let’s do something fun. Where do they hide the liquor?"

"There is no liquor," Chris said, remembering all the times he’d asked Ali if he could get her drunk. She’d always refused, horrified, claiming to know his underlying motivations. "I’ve got some Mountain Dew, but that’s it."

Ali made a face. "Okay, we need a new plan."

"You could take your clothes off," he suggested.

"Ha ha… no." Ali got up, walked over to the countertop, sat on it, and slowly pulled the rubberband out of her ponytail. She shook her head, letting her dark hair fall in soft waves around her shoulders. Why did girls always do that? Chris shifted in his chair, pretending that Ali’s actions hadn’t affected him. He wouldn’t give her that satisfaction just yet.

"How about just your shirt?" he asked.

"Just my shirt?"

"And your bra."

"Okay."

Chris held his breath, anticipating a strip tease. Instead, he watched awestruck as Ali removed first her shirt, then her bra, from inside her baggy sweater. She quietly folded the two items and put them in her bag, then looked up and smiled at him.

"Was that what you wanted?" she asked. Chris had to laugh and admit his amazement at her clothing-removal talents, though in his mind he was quickly calculating his next plan of attack.

"You know… I’m asking Rose to be my girlfriend tomorrow..." He spoke slowly, giving each word time to register. "So that would make tonight your last chance…"

"Not to mention yours!" She’d cut him off quickly. "What am I, a stripper at a bachelor party?"

"Of course not, Ali! I didn’t mean it like that!" But she had read his mind. This was his last chance to be crazy before monogamy took over. And since Ali had suggested her desire to know what it would be like to kiss him, he was going to milk this night for all it was worth.

As he was thinking all this, Ali had been feeling around in her bag; he now watched as she crossed the room to the white board, picked up one of the pens and began to write on her hand. It took him a minute to realize that she was in fact wearing a rubber glove (leave it to Ali to have the most random shit with her at all times). When she finished writing on it, she pulled it off, made it into a balloon, and floated it to where he had seated himself on a table. He caught it awkwardly and read the scrawling green message: "I am NOT getting naked!"

Chris laughed and walked over to his once-upon-a-time best friend. It was a friendship that was failing as quickly and unexpectedly as it had begun. He didn’t even want to think about all the things that the two of them had been through in the past few weeks. Tonight really was a last chance for them, though he wasn’t sure what would mend and what would destroy, or whether it was even up to him. So instead of treading carefully, he would take his chances, and he could tell that she was doing the same.

He approached her and began to tickle her. She squealed as usual – a sound that had been described as a cross between a seagull, a dolphin, and a three-year-old – and tried to wriggle away from him, but he didn’t let up until she was on her back directly under his hunched form. He looked into her face and could see everything that she was thinking: she was nervous, but somehow comfortable, and she was practically begging him to kiss her. But he wouldn’t do it. She had to kiss him. This was the way he’d imagined it, and this is the way it would happen tonight. He would only kiss her back.

"I have to get home soon," he said, as he abruptly straightened up and hopped down off the counter. She wasn’t going along with his fantasy, and he was tired of her stupid games. Seeming slightly displaced, she got up as well and looked hard at him, trying to decide what to do next.

"So that would make this my last chance ever to take my top off for Chris Davidson?" Though she spoke tentatively, he knew not to respond just yet. "Let’s see," she said, teasing as usual. "What have you done to me lately?… made me cry a few times… gotten into an argument with me pretty much every other night for the past two months… threatened suicide and blamed it on me…"

"If we’re judging by character," he interjected, "you should be putting more clothes on." He knew he had her now. Ali was a tease with a soft spot. By being humble, he would strike the final blow.

"Yeah… you’re right," she began in a low voice. Chris could tell that the evening was suddenly becoming much more serious. "But if we’re judging by character…" Ali pulled her sweater over her head, and Chris’ eyes followed its descent to the floor by her feet. "Then I owe you too."

Chris couldn’t help but stare as she stood there with her hands clasped behind her back, a subtle pout gracing her lips as she looked first up at him, then down at her sweater crumpled on the floor. They remained there, on opposite sides of the room, for an eternal sixty seconds until Chris took heed of Ali’s growing discomfort.

"I have one last request," he said, and her gaze snapped up to meet his own. "Can I have a hug?"

She paused. "If you come and take one," she said finally. Apparently he had pushed her rare brazenness to its limit for now.

He did go over to her and take his hug, careful not to make it seem like anything more than what it was: a friendly hug, a hug goodbye. She looked up at him, almost apologizing for not having the courage to kiss him like they both wanted her to. He didn’t care anymore. The night and the situation were awkward enough already.

"Come on," he said, handing her her sweater. "I’ll take you home."

They didn’t talk for the entire 45-minute drive to Ali’s house. It wasn’t until Chris pulled into her driveway that Ali finally broke the silence.

"I hate you, you know that?" He was relieved to hear the sarcastic tone back in her speech.

"I didn’t know that, actually," he taunted back. "Why do you hate me this time?"

"Because you’ve made me go out of character all night! I mean, I don’t usually tease that much, I don’t take my top off at the slightest provocation, and I definitely don’t do this!"

No sooner had she said it, than he could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers on his cheek. He closed his eyes and let her hand guide his face towards hers. She kissed him softly, and, as he’d promised, he kissed her back. It wasn’t a long kiss, and it was hesitant, but there was a sweetness in it that surprised them both.

"Well, now we know what that’s like." She spoke unnaturally fast as she struggled to get out of the car. Chris watched her practically run up to her front door and let herself in before he began to pull away, thinking about tomorrow when he would ask Rose to be his steady.