"Are you okay?" Taylor asked, kneeling down beside Andrea. She didn't answer him. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Andrea?"
"Don't touch me," she whispered, looking up at him. There was a look of absolute terror on her face. She was a pale white, her eyes wide as saucers. "Don't touch me, please." She stood up and walked over to the control panel. She began randomly pushing buttons. "Come on! Start!" She was beginning to panic. "Start dammit! I want out!" She kicked the wall and began to cry. "The walls are closing in...they are." She slid down to a squatting position in the corner.
"I'm guessing this has nothing to do with being stuck in an elevator with me," Taylor said. She had her hands on the walls, pushing until her knuckles were red.
"The walls...they're closing in. I swear they are!" she mumbled frantically. "Help! Someone please help!" Taylor reached over her and pulled the alarm. "No! Stop the sound! The screeching sound!" She began rocking, while still crying.
"Andrea? Andrea?!" Taylor yelled, trying to get her attention. She kept rocking, ignoring him. My god, she's claustrophobic, he realized. He took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Then he leaned forward and cupped her chin in his hands. "Andie, sweetie, I need you to focus. Look me in the eyes. Come one, baby." She kept rocking.
"The walls...," she said. It's not working...crap. She was becoming more and more hysterical. Should I slap her? No...she'll just hate me even more for doing it. Finally, he sat down beside her and put his arms around her. She began hitting him. "Let me go! Don't touch me!" He grabbed her wrists firmly.
"Andrea, it's going to be alright," he said firmly. She got quiet. "I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to you." He let go of her wrists and pulled her to him. She laid her head on his chest. "Shhh...it's okay." He rocked her in his arms as though she were a little child. "It's alright. Everything's going to be fine. We'll get out of here." Eventually, she stopped crying. When he looked down at her, he saw she was fast asleep. I hope we get out of here soon. I don't know how much of this I can stand.
Isaac and Marilla walked down the street hand in hand. After their kiss, they ordered coffees and sat down to talk. They had discussed their hopes and dreams. Isaac wanted to stay in the music business and eventually become a producer. Marilla wanted to become an environmental lawyer for the E.P.A. After they were through, they decided to go back to the hotel.
"So, how long are you here for?" Marilla asked.
"Until January fourth. We're supposed to record a performance for Dick Clark's Rockin' Millennium. So we don't actually have to be there," Isaac replied.
"Yeah, we're here until the third. Then we fly back home," Marilla said. "I'd really prefer to stay here, but I have school."
"Where do you live?" Isaac asked.
"Macon, Georgia, believe it or not," Marilla replied. "I hate it there. Small town life bites. That's why I'm hoping to get into Harvard, so I can get away from it all. My second choice is O.R.U., but I'm confident that I'll get into Harvard. Mom just made me apply to O.R.U. as a back up. Andrea's the one that really wants to go there."
"Oh, cool," Isaac said. They walked past a tiny instant-photo booth. Isaac yanked Marilla inside.
"What are you doing?" she asked, as he put a dollar in the machine.
"This!" He kissed her as the camera flashed. Smile-flash! Goofy faces-flash! Serious-flash! The pictures came rolling out. Isaac grabbed them and handed them to Marilla. "Something to remember tonight and me by."
"We'd better get back to the hotel! It's almost nine o' clock!" she exclaimed, pulling him out of the photo booth. They ran off down the street.
The phone in the elevator rang, waking Taylor up. He had fallen asleep shortly after Andrea. The phone rang again, and he picked it up.
"Hello?" he said sleepily.
"This is the concierge. Is everyone in there okay? No one hurt?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.
"We're fine. We're just stuck," Taylor replied.
"Well, the repairman in sick, so we had to call our back up. It'll be at least an hour before he even gets here, then a few more hours until the elevator is fixed," the concierge explained.
"What?! That's not possible! I'm in here with a girl who extremely claustrophobic! She's already gone psycho on me once! Don't tell me that your son of a bitch back up repairman can't be here for another hour! I can't take another hour with her! You have to get us out!" Taylor exclaimed angrily.
"I'm sorry , sir. We'll try our best to hurry. For right now, I suggest you just get comfortable. It's going to be a while," the concierge said.
"That's easy for you to say. You're not stuck in here with her!" Taylor screamed at him. "Can you at least get a message to my mom and brothers, so they know where I am?" Taylor said.
"Yes, I can. Room number?"
"Penthouse 25 A. The Hansons. Tell them that Taylor and Andrea are stuck in an elevator."
"Will do, sir."
"Thank you."
"If anything else goes wrong, you need something, just pick up the phone and push one. I'll answer," the concierge said.
"Thank you. Good bye." Taylor hung up the phone. Andrea began to stir. "Andie, sweetie, wake up." The girl's eyes fluttered open.
"Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed, backing away from him. "Get away from me, you pervert!"
"Andie, calm down. We're stuck in the elevator," Taylor said.
"What?!" she said, beginning to panic again. She began pacing nervously.
"Andie!" he yelled. He stood up, blocking her path. "It's okay. They're trying to fix the elevator and get us out. It's okay, really!"
"You don't understand. I'm claustrophobic, Taylor," she said.
"I kind of noticed that earlier when you freaked out on me," he said.
"Tay, I'm scared," she said. The elevator creaked loudly.
"Come here," he said. He put his arms around her. The elevator creaked louder, then made a snapping sound. It began to plummet.
"Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!" both teenagers screamed.
Suddenly it came to a halt. Andrea had a death grip on Taylor. She looked at him. He was staring at the ceiling of the elevator with wide eyes. He finally looked down at her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, fine," she replied. They stood there for a moment. Then she cupped his chin in her hands and kissed him. Not a long kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. She stood back and stared at him. He had a shocked look on his face. Just as he was starting to recover from it, she shoved him against the wall and kissed him again. Suddenly, the elevator phone rang. He pulled away from her.
"Hold on a sec, Andie," he said. He picked up the phone. "Hello? Yeah, we're fine. The elevator just dropped a bit. Yeah...bye." He hung up the phone for a second. "That was the concierge again." He picked the phone up off the hook again and left it dangling by the cord. "So he can't bother us again." He wrapped his arms around her waist in his hands and began to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands traveled down the back of her dress.
He kissed her shoulder as she slipped her dress off. Her fingers ran through his soft blond hair, then moved down to his shoulders. He pulled his T-shirt off. He fiddled with her bra clasp, finally getting it open. They slid down to the floor of the elevator. Soon his pants were in a ball on the floor as they made love.
Zac and Abby sat at a table in McDonald's. After much pleading with their mothers, they had managed to get a few hours of freedom. So where had they ended up at? McDonald's of all places.
Zac looked across the table at the small girl. She seem nice enough, but she was too quiet. They had know each other for almost 5 hours, and she had barely said two sentences to him, not counting a "Hello" when they were first introduced. She had long brown hair, that was wavy and partially pulled back into a bun. Her eyes were blue-gray, and had a cold depth to them.
"So...where do you go to school?" Zac asked.
"St. Catherine's Prep School," she replied.
"Oh...you're lucky...I'm home schooled," he said. This is not going to be easy, getting her to talk. She's not shy, I think she's just kind of snobby. "What grade are you in?"
"Eighth grade," she responded curtly.
"Oh...me too...or I'm supposed to be, anyway," he said. He looked up at the ceiling and started whistling. This is not going well at all, he thought. Not at all.
