Classes seem to drag by today. I have my internship meeting at noon, and I'm nervous and excited. I have all the information about the company, the job duties, and what they're looking for in an intern. I think I'm prepared, but it doesn't stop the nervousness.

Alex, who's sitting beside me in the lecture hall, leans over. "You're doing that thing where you tap your pen. It's kind of loud."

I look down at my hand and realize that I am. "Shit," I say, laughing nervously. "Sorry."

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking concerned.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," I tell him, putting my pen down. "I have my internship interview at lunch."

"Why are you nervous? You've got this."

I smile, appreciating his support. "Thanks."

Ever since the frat party, Alex has been acting differently around me. He keeps seeming to find reasons to touch me. A hand on my arm here, a tap of his foot against mine there. I think we need to talk about that kiss because he's clearly reading more into this than he should be. I think back to what Skylar said about Alex having a crush on me. If that's the case, I'm going to have to be gentle.

"You'll do great. They'd be stupid not to pick you. You're smart and funny and so fucking talented," he says, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I swallow thickly, unsure of how to respond. His hand on my bare shoulder holds all of my attention.

I clear my throat, shifting in my seat. "Thank you. That means a lot."

His hand stays on my shoulder, and I can feel his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles there. I pretend to get something out of my bag, allowing myself to bend over, effectively removing his hand from me. I don't want things to be like this between us. I really hope this is all in my head. Maybe I've let Skylar get in my head.

Class ends, and I hastily gather my notebooks and pens, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves at the thought of the impending interview. Alex follows me out of the room, keeping pace beside me.

"What time is your interview?" he asks, walking with me down the hallway.

"Noon," I reply, glancing at my watch. "They're coming here, so I've got about thirty minutes to grab a bite and get my game face on."

"Want some company?" he offers, His smile is easy, inviting.

"Sure," I say, returning his smile with one of my own.

We walk to the food court, grabbing lunch. We find a table and sit down, digging into our food.

"So, are you ready for this?" he asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.

I shrug. "I guess so. I just really want it to go well. I think I'm ready, but you never know."

"You'll be great. Just be yourself." His confidence in me outweighs my own.

I nod, chewing on my salad. "Thanks."

We finish our lunch, and then head back to the main part of campus. We stop at the front of the building.

Alex stops, turning to face me with a sincerity that's both comforting and nerve-wracking. "Good luck," he says, stepping in for a hug.

I stiffen at first, caught off guard, but then I relax and hug him back.

"Thanks," I murmur, stepping back.

"I have practice now, but find me afterward and tell me how it went, okay?"

"Will do," I promise, smiling.

With a final nod, he bounds off toward the athletic complex, leaving me to face the ticking clock.

I check my watch, seeing that I have five minutes until the interview. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the interview.

A few students pass me by, chatting excitedly about their classes.

"Excuse me, are you Emma?" a voice calls.

I turn, seeing two men approaching. One is dressed in a suit, while the other is wearing a button-down shirt and slacks.

"Yes, I am. And you must be from Clever Corp."

The suited man extends his hand, introducing himself. "I'm Shane. And this is John."

Shane is dressed in a navy blue suit, his blonde hair cut short and styled neatly. His hazel eyes are sharp, appraising.

John is tall, with dark brown hair and green eyes. He has a relaxed, friendly demeanor.

"Nice to meet you," I reply, shaking their hands.

"You're the only student we're interviewing, so this shouldn't take long," Shane says, giving me a warm smile.

"We just want to get to know you a bit, ask you a few questions, and then we'll decide if you're a good fit for the position."

"Sounds good."

Shane opens the door to the conference room, holding it for me. "After you."

I enter the room, and they follow behind. There's a table in the center of the room, with a few chairs surrounding it.

"Please, have a seat," Shane says, gesturing to the chair.

I sit down, crossing my legs.

"So, tell us a bit about yourself. You're a graphic design major, right? Why did you choose that field?" John asks.

"Well, I've always been creative. I've loved art and drawing since I was a little girl. When it came time to choose a major, it was an easy decision."

"What are your strengths and weaknesses as a designer?" Shane asks.

"My strengths are my ability to see the big picture, my eye for detail, and my work ethic. My weaknesses are probably my lack of experience and my perfectionism."

Shane and John share a look, and I can't help but wonder what they're thinking.

"Emma, can you be real with us for a minute? Why do you want this internship?" Shane asks.

This question catches me off guard. It's not one that's usually asked during an interview.

"I, uh... well, to be honest, I want it because it's a great opportunity. The company is amazing, and I think it would be an incredible learning experience. Plus, it would look great on my resume. But honestly, what I'm really after is the connections. I want to make a name for myself. I want people to know my work. I want them to know me."

I pause, collecting my thoughts.

"When I graduate, I want to have a solid career. I don't want to have to wait tables and take whatever job I can get. I want to be able to make a living doing what I love. I think this internship is a great way to start."

John and Shane exchange another look, and I can't tell if they're impressed or not.

"We reached out to you weeks ago, and you didn't reach out until three days before the cutoff date. Why the delay?" Shane asks.

I don't know whether to be honest or make something up. Should I tell them that I was unsure about taking this position? That until recently, I wasn't sure I would be able to balance work, school, and an internship. That I wouldn't financially be able to afford it.

But if I do, then what? What will they think of me? That I'm not ambitious enough? Not dedicated?

I take a deep breath, deciding to be honest. "Well, to be honest, I wasn't sure that I was going to take it. It's a great opportunity, and I know that, but I wasn't sure I would be able to handle the financial loss from taking on a free position and how that would translate to my time management. Would I still have enough time for schoolwork? Would I still have enough time for my freelance jobs, which is how I make all of my income?"

I think back to Ares's offer to financially support me if I take this internship. I still don't know how I feel about taking any money from him, but I'm willing to take the chance.

"And recently, my finances sorted themselves out. I will be able to take this internship without losing income."

Shane's expression softens, and he nods. "That's understandable. Can you tell us more about what you've done for your freelance clients? Any examples you have of the work you've done for them."

"Yes, of course." I pull out my portfolio, flipping through until I find my most recent designs. "For example, last month I did this full rebranding project for a local restaurant. They had a logo, but they wanted to modernize it. I also helped them design their menus and business cards."

John looks over the samples, nodding. "These are great. What else have you done?"

I spend the next half hour showing them examples of my work, answering their questions, and telling them more about my goals. By the time the interview ends, I'm confident they're impressed.

"It was great meeting you, Emma. We'll be in touch soon," Shane says, shaking my hand.

"Thanks. You, too."

I walk out of the conference room, feeling hopeful.

I make my way to the athletic center, wanting to find Alex and tell him how it went. As I approach the doors, I don't hear anyone inside. I walk to the doors heading outside to the field, and when I open the door, I hear the sound of a whistle, followed by shouting. I peek out and see the soccer team practicing. Alex is on the field, running drills with the others.

I step back, watching from the sidelines. The coach blows the whistle again, calling the players over. I can't hear what he's saying, but it's clear that they're wrapping up.

The players disperse, making their way to the locker room. Alex looks up and sees me, a smile spreading across his face.

He jogs over to me, his brow glistening with sweat. "Hey, how did it go?"

I smile, giving him a thumbs-up. "I think it went well. They seemed really impressed with my portfolio," I tell him, the pride in my accomplishment bubbling up inside me.

Alex lets out a relieved sigh. "That's great. See? I knew you'd nail it."

His arm finds its way around my shoulder, pulling me into a sweaty, celebratory squeeze that's as gross as it is endearing.

"Ew, you're all sweaty! Get off me!" I protest, half-laughing, half-squirming in his grip.

But Alex doubles down, wraping his other arm around me, encircling my waist. "Oh, you know you love it," he teases, giving his head a little shake, sending droplets of sweat flying my way.

"Absolutely not," I retort, pushing him away with a laugh. The sweat on my skin feels icky, but his playful attitude makes it impossible to be truly annoyed.

He laughs, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Don't worry, I'm hitting the shower now," he assures me with a playful wink.

I roll my eyes. "Good, because you stink," I shoot back, not missing a beat.

His laughter fills the space between us, his smile widening. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, I'm really happy for you. I know how much this means to you."

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. "Thank you."

Alex's eyes hold mine, and the moment stretches between us.

"You want to catch dinner?" Alex asks, breaking the silence.

I shake my head. "Can't. I have some things to take care of tonight."

His disappointment is fleeting, replaced by an understanding smile. "Alright, some other time, then."

"Yeah, definitely."

He gives me a quick hug, then jogs back towards the locker room.

I head back to the house, eager to tell Ares about the interview.