Two hours and a half have passed since the game between Anton and Brianna started; yet no winner has been crowned at the moment. Tension rises as each of them makes their move. There's no more room for mistakes, at least for them.

Cheering has died down, replaced by a gloomy sense of uneasiness. What next? What can we do for the rest of the day? We're spoiled for choice, actually; the problem is that making a decision is a hard task, because we have to come up with a plan together. Considering that each of us has different interests, finding the perfect match is a matter of trial and error.

"We should think of dinner," says Lindsey, breaking the silence. "Is there anyone who's good at cooking?"

Kat shrugs. "I'm not really hungry, and I don't feel like cooking tonight."

I take a playful jab at her. "Well, unless Anton tells you to."

"Stop it!" She bursts into laughter, making the atmosphere buzzing and lively like before. When the sun sets, the game is finally over.

Anton raises his arms with his fists clenched and shouts, "Victory!"

Kat shakes her head, as if she expected this result. "He's gonna be even more insufferable. Silla, Brianna, brace yourselves—he can turn our nights into Hell."

Fortunately for us, he isn't too over the top with his requests. "Well, Kat, Brianna, since you both lost to me, you'll have to work together for the task I give you."

"What is it?" asks Brianna, who hopes not to have to, like, wax his legs.

"Well, it's dinner time, but I guess no-one is in the mood for cooking. Since this is the first night, you have to come up with a valid alternative. It has to be something unique, or else I'll set the bar higher for my next requests." His grin looks threatening now. I hope Kat and Brianna can wow him. Knowing how competitive is, he'll take his victory and the reward it entailed very seriously.

He retreats to go to his room for a while, allowing us girls, including Lindsey, to strategize. "Girls, we have go through delivery apps and find a good restaurant. He said it can't be anything too ordinary—so, no pizza or fast food," I say. This annoys Kat in particular as she believes Anton aims to make the night harder for the rest of us.

Lindsey throws in a suggestion. "What about Indian? I love it, and I'm sure he does, too. He's the best at handling spices."

Kat and Brianna shrug. They seem fine with the idea. I tag along, saying, "Good. Then, Indian it is. I'll order—I want to surprise him." Well, I don't really have a set strategy. Okay, I should've asked the others what they like, but this way they can try new things—and I can, as well.

When I wait for food to come, I decide it's finally time to find my room and settle in. Brianna follows me. "I think I know where it is," she says, clearly inviting me to follow her. We walk down the hall until the second last door on the right. "Here it is. Feel free to relax until dinner comes."

"Thank you, Brianna. I'll take a moment to unpack. I'll be back to pick dinner up and then we find the dining room." The first thing I notice on the desk in my bedroom, after Brianna leaves, is a bunch of papers, including a map. I take the latter and start studying it.

"I have to remember where each of us stays the night." For now, I mark my own room with a red X, using a felt-tip pen that's also on the desk with other pieces of stationery.

Next, I unpack and change into a different pair of jeans and a purple tank top. I also replace the sneakers I've been wearing since early this morning with my favorite slippers. I leave my shoes under the desk for now, then look for a laundry basket where to place my dirty clothes.

Here it is, at the right of the desk. I take care of my old clothes; then, place the suitcase and backpack, which have been emptied by now, in the wardrobe and, at last, take a seat on the king size bed. Wow, it's so comfortable! I have a hard time keeping myself from bouncing on the soft memory foam mattress.

I check the time on my phone: 8:30pm. The order will arrive in five minutes. This means I have time for one more task: find the dining room and set the table. I head downstairs, map in my hand, and start looking for the room. According to the directions on the map, I have to turn left as soon as I go down the flight of stairs.

Here it is, the dining room. Not far from it, there's also an open kitchen. Great. I can't wait to see who comes up with the most creative recipes. I stuff the map back in my pockets and look for a nice tablecloth. The only one I can find is one that's identical to that at my grandmother's house: a checkered blue and white cloth. I like it.

Next, I've got to find glasses. They are in the cupboard opposite the table. I pick five, then place them clockwise. Last, but not least, a set of napkins. I don't know if I should add silverware; I decide to take a few spoons and forks in case anyone needs them.

I count the chairs: five. Perfect. I go to the kitchen and open the fridge. It's nearly empty. There are only two cans of beer and a large bottle of mineral water. We can make do with these for tonight. I'm sure tomorrow we'll be able to do the shopping and buy what we need and desire.

I place the drinks at the center of the table and wait for the delivery app to notify me. I take a picture of the dining room and casually send it to Anton. He'll seethe when he sees how good I am at setting up a table. I'm just kidding... He like exaggerating reactions a bit.

I hear a ping. It has to be my phone. No, it's not the delivery app yet. It's Anton. He's taunting me. 'Table setting master class with Silla Pierce at 8:30pm. By the way, dinner is fashionably late, isn't it?'

Why is it taking so long? It doesn't seem to be too busy today. I mean, it may be a Saturday, but I guess people prefer other options today.

Another ping. This time, it's the app. I rush to the entrance and pick up the large order, also leaving a large tip to the delivery boy because I happen to have a twenty dollar bill in one of my pockets. Lucky me.

When the delivery man has left, I yell, "Guys, dinner is here! Come downstairs—I'll wait for you by the stairs. Don't be too slow or it'll get cold." As expected, they don't have to get it repeated twice. Of course, Anton and Kat turn it into a competition once again. "Let's see who runs down the stairs the fastest!" Kat is pumped up. She wants to make up for her loss at pool.

But, once again, Anton outsmarts her and finishes first. He snatches one of the food bags from me and dashes to the right. I have to chase after him. "No, Anton, it's the other way around!"

He sprints past me as if dinner were a matter of death or life. The rest of us struggle to catch up with him, which means he gets the best seat. Not that I'm particularly upset, since I've found the dining room first and set up the table.

I hope the food is worth my effort.