“Everything is a plot.”

“You’re so pessimistic,” she replied.

“Neither pessimistic, nor optimistic,” he said smugly. “Look it up. Second definition.”

Her eyes darted towards him with disdain as she pulled her phone out and Googled ‘define pessimistic.’ Her brows furrowed as she skimmed Webster’s definition.

“This is why I like hanging out with you.”

He smirked.

“Well then. I don’t have an agenda.” She merely rephrased. “I’ve had them in the past…a lot, with guys, actually…but not you. Friends don’t need to plot.”

It was true: It’s so much easier to be manipulative when you don’t give a fuck. She was currently enacting one of her most manipulative plans yet out of sheer boredom. It wasn’t Fitz she was plotting, though.

Sure, she found him interesting…but not in a way that caused her to scheme. Which was good. For both of them. She really just wanted friendship. She needed friendship. And she could never befriend someone dull.

And yet…

She certainly wasn’t interested in more than friendship with Matt, either. After all, she was far “too liberal” for him. Yawn. Whether or not that was a real issue was beyond her, but the conversation on the matter was offensive enough to eliminate the butterflies she’d previously felt for him. After all, things like that didn’t phase her; all that really mattered was that those she surrounded herself with were open-minded enough not to let things like politics and religion get the best of them.

Besides…he wasn’t her type at all.

She thought about plots and schemes and games…and she realized…she really just missed Jake.

Wow. That sucks.

Matt may have made her feel something surprising for the first time in a long time, but Jake…he was the first guy to like her for who she was in years…maybe ever. And she liked him because of who he was, and he was completely fascinating to her. He was respectful…but played the game almost too well…she never did lose interest.

Oh, and their chemistry…

“Drop everything,” she said to Fitz. “We need to plot.”

“Wait, I thought -“ he started. She held her hand up to stop him from continuing.

“Not with you, dummy.”

The confused look on his face remained.

“I still want him.”

“It’s been months…” replied Fitz.

“I know.”

“…How?” There was almost a pained expression on his face.

“I don’t know,” she said irritated. “I just do. I can’t get him out of my head.”

“Okay, I think this is something you need to enlist Izzy for.”

“No, I need male insight. Help me.”

The look on her face was so frightening, there was no way he could say no. She was determined. As much as she hated to play the game, she hated losing more.

And this game wasn’t over.