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Jeff sat bolt upright in his bed, fine Egyptian sheets pale in the dim moonlight streaming through his windows. While he couldn’t explain it, a sick feeling crept into his very being as he looked across the room at his alarm clock, the red numbers glaring back at him.
Punching his pillow back into shape, he threw himself back down into his bed, the queasy feeling still in the pit of his stomach, as his eyelids drifted down to meet his cheeks, his breath slowing and falling into a steady rhythm.
****
At the same time, Britta and Annie sat around the bar on L-Street, its characteristic red door swung open to the cool springtime breeze.
“Last call ladies, last call!” the barkeeper called out, his hands lowering down the dishwasher full of cups and glasses as he started his nighttime pack up of the establishment that the two ladies found themselves quite intoxicated at.
“Come-on Annie” Britta slurred, her voice well gone in shots and cocktails provided by the bucks party from earlier in the night “let's go home"
Annie giggled at Britta's slurring as she added her own “Yes, lets" fumbling for her purple Galaxy phone and flicked between screens until she pulled up the ride-sharing app, making several attempts to select their location. “He'll be here soon" the words tumbling and slurring as they picked up their bags, and Annie her pair of purple velvet pumps and, arm in arm, staggered towards the door, the fresh air invigorating both of them as they straightened up, and while still slightly swaying with the cool breeze, managed to get curbside as they stood there, arm in arm, waiting for their ride.
Britta clumsily slapped Annie's shoulder “Quick, look up, look up!” she gasped, her voice no longer impaired by the staggering number of drinks consumed “Quick Annie, look up, shooting stars!"
Together, they stood in the dim red light reflection of the bar sign as they stood there, watching a cascade of sparkles flying across the sky.
“Quick Annie” Britt urged “Make a wish."
Giggling uncontrollably, Annie wished on the brightest of all the shooting stars. “I wish that one day, we might actually get some truth out of Jeffrey Tobias Winger, even if it is for just one day.”
“Bah, like that’s ever going to happen" Britta scoffed, “Like, he's totally into you, but he won't admit it."
“You’re telling me, at least you got somewhere with him, I can't even get off the home plate."
“Pfft, not even worth it, if you ask me!" Britta laughed as their Uber pulled up and they slid into the back seat, the sounds of the Bollywood soundtrack receding into the distance as they pulled away from the bar, heading towards Annie’s Apartment.
***
Wool, Annie thought, her mouth tasted like wool, and not the clean smell of fresh flannelette sheets, but wool, fresh from the sheep and still stained from whatever it had previously eaten.
She opened her eyes slowly, the sharp shots of pain coming through from the small crack in the purple curtains revealing the extent of her hangover as she pulled her pillow back over her eyes, groaning at the effort and wave of nausea that brought on.
Unwillingly, Annie dangled her feet over the bed's edge, the cold wood a stark contrast to the fiery turmoil in her stomach. Nausea, a vengeful python constricting her insides, hissed at her to escape. With a groan that vibrated through the silent room, she clawed her way to her feet, the room tilting like a drunken carousel. The bedroom door, a sunlit exit from this fruity purgatory, beckoned. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. An unforeseen obstacle presented itself in the form of a forgotten monstrosity - the blanket fort they'd haphazardly constructed last night after a Britta-led building afterparty. Her wobbly legs betrayed her, tripping over a rogue pillow bastion, sending her sprawling onto the plush abyss of blankets and cushions. A muffled curse escaped her lips as she scrambled to her knees, momentarily forgetting the viper in her gut in the face of this new indignity. Finally, escaping the fort and all of its entanglements, she fell into the bathroom, her hands shakily reaching up and closing the door behind her. The blanket fort’s door swayed open on a breeze, revealing Britta's foot dangling from the futon like a forgotten sock,oblivious to the symphony of regurgitation Annie unleashed moments later, ejecting the remnants of last night's "fruity pleasures" into the unforgiving porcelain basin. Her auburn hair, tangled in the sticky aftermath, became a grotesque crown for the queen of fruity folly.
Reaching up the turn on the cold water tap, she turned her head, allowing the cool water to trickle into her mouth before shutting it off. Without raising her head, she flicked the lock of the door on the bathroom doorknob, turning around slightly to turn on the shower.
***
Jeff stepped out of his shower, his skin positively glowing from the coconut and shea butter moisturizer he liberally spread across his skin, his wet hair already showing signs of artful messiness as he lifted his hand to swipe away the warm condensation that had accumulated during his shower, his other hand reaching for the pomade to finish the styling of his hair.
Mentally going through his schedule for the day, he moved his hand around his hair, making it look like a bedhead in an expression of carelessness. His afternoon classes today made it easier for him to spend the right amount of time working on his outfit for the time between now and his scotch after his last class today. He strode out of his bathroom back into his bedroom, stopping by another mirror, this one full length as he checked himself out. Flexing in the mirror, he allowed the towel to slip from his hips onto the floor, his body striking a pose he thought he saw of the Greek God Zeus hurtling a Lightning bolt at his foes.
Smiling at the thought of smiting down Allan, he moved over to his wardrobe, carefully standing on the inside of the doorway to make sure his neighbor couldn't see him through the window of his bedroom again. He had made that mistake once, and Pelton reminded him about it every chance he got. He pulled out the deep purple knitted sweatshirt, sky-blue button-down top, and his dark blue distressed jeans, laying them next to each other to make sure they all worked.
“Jeffrey Winger, you handsome son of a bitch" he said out loud to the universe, his face alive with the thought of the study group seeing him in this purple jumper and shirt. He reached down to pull his jeans on when he heard a shrill cry come from outside.
The windows, open to allow the fresh smell of spring to roll in and carry away the musty smell of Winter, had allowed the curtain to open just enough for his noisy neighbor to see into his bedroom as his naked form was standing at the side of his bed.
Quickly diving down, he grabbed his clothes and made a beeline for the bathroom, the door closing with a whoosh as the air quickly made way for the solid panel door to close.
***
Creeping past the door of his obsessed next-door neighbor, Jeff quickly and quietly pressed the elevator call button, the small yellow light backlighting the down arrow as he stood quietly in the hall, subconsciously taking short, shallow breaths as he stood with his eyes glued to the floor numbers to slowly crawl their way higher until they reached his floor and the elevator doors opened with a soft bing as he lunged into the small chrome elevator and quickly pressed the door closed button.
As the doors slid shut, an unmistakable voice called down the hall “Wait! Hold that elevator!” Renewing Jeff's efforts and mental effort in willing the doors to close quicker. As they slid to a close, the voice still wasn’t quite close enough to catch a glance at the man outside elevator as the small machine slid down the shaft, stopping at the door below him as Ms Morgan shuffled into the vestibule, the miasma of cat urine and fur overpowering Jeff's senses as she stood just inside Jeff's comfort zone.
With a look of disdain at the primped narcissist in the back of the elevator, she said, “What seems to be the problem with you son?” she asked condescendingly.
“Well, you smell like a skunk passed by a dumpster of kitty litter and decided that it didn't quite stink enough" he heard himself say before his mind registered the response. Ms. Morgan looked at himself in shocked disbelief, her eyes glaring at Jeff's as the color drained from both their faces, Jeff's from sheer panic at the cat lady in the elevator within striking distance, and Ms Morgan’s from the verbal slap she just received as the doors opened for the floor below them.
Diving out of the elevator as its now lone occupant still stood there as Jeff tore down the stairs, the look of what the hell splayed across his face as he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the Lexus in the parking garage, diving into the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition, turning the keys and pressing down on the accelerator as he revved the car into life.
An attractive blonde in a skimpy red dress that Jeff had yet to make acquaintance with strode past, throwing Jeff glances as he sat there, his foot toying with the engine as the car warmed up to a meaty growl.
He wound down the window, his deep purple knitted sweated arm laying restfully on the windowsill as he called out to the leggy blonde “Hey, how you doing?" he started, followed by his mouth operating before his mind thought of what to say “I own an expensive car to hide how shallow I really am and will probably forget your name by morning".
Again, standing stock still in amazement, Jeff’s mouth hung open as a disgusted, yet interested look splashed across the blonde's face as Jeff turned the key in the ignition, allowing the car to rumble to life before he pulled it into gear, the wheels making a slight chirping sound against the dark gray painted concrete of his parking garage. The wheels of his car spun on the dark gray painted floor of the car park as he tore out of the undercover structure, his face never registering the shock and interest the blonde showed as he turned off the raised ramp onto his street, heading towards Greendale.
“What is happening?” he asked out loud as he slowed down at a stop sign, not quite rolling to a stop as he pressed down on the gas, picking up speed through the intersection, turning into the small coffee shop to pick up some coffee to help him through the afternoon, and finally into the college parking lot.
Reaching down to get his coffee from the center console of his car and awkwardly putting it onto the roof of his car, he slowly raised himself out of the car as a cool springtime afternoon breeze tickled the hair on the back of his neck. Turning around to close the door of his car, the small patter of ballerina flats echoed off the sidewalk behind him.
“Jeff!” a small voice called out from behind him.
He froze in mid-movement, his keys dangling from his fingers as he had stopped moving his hands towards his pockets to drop his keys down. His mind went empty as his brain caught up to the rest of his body as he recognized the voice calling his name.
“Jeff!” the voice repeated closer this time as the sounds of the flat shoes got louder.
He half turned, his top half turning around slowly as his bottom half, by its own means, started moving in the opposite direction. He didn't need to run into Annie this afternoon, of all days he thought as his eyes locked with hers.
His mind, still working faster than his body could keep up with, reached several points that he had to take into account. First, even by Greendale standards, something strange was going on, maybe a gas leak in his apartment? That would explain his weird behavior. But this was causing him to say what he thought in his head without the time to craft it eloquently the way he usually did. Around Annie? With his thoughts still roiling through his head, he couldn’t afford that, there were certain things that he couldn’t let slip.
“Sorry, he stammered, got to go, can't be here” he struggled to get out as he tore across the quad.
Annie stopped in her tracks as she watched his retreating form, her face a mixed cloud of emotions as the sun glassed and ashen-faced Britta lurched beside her.
“What did that jackass want?" she said, her voice gravelly as she squinted through the dark sunglasses. She looked at Annie through bloodshot eyes “How the hell did you pull up so well after last night? You were already gone by the time I woke up. Did we build a fort last night?"
“A cold shower, some multivitamins, a large sandwich and a cold sports drink." She shook her Mixed Berry sports bottle. “And two aspirins, and I feel almost fine. And yes, yes we did apparently" she said merrily.
Britta swore under her breath “Damn 20 year old's and no hangovers" as a wave of nausea swept over her.
“Awww Britta” Annie cooed. “ I love you too" she finished her sentence with a laugh as they walked arm in arm towards the science building, as much because of the support Britta needed in her black-heeled boots as because of the friendship they shared.
****
Jeff darted into the first building he tore past, paying little attention to the large sign over the door as he pulled the left-hand door open and quickly moved into the cool hallway between rooms. He moved through the hallway with practiced ease until he reached the first unlocked door, and, grasping the handle, he pushed the wooden door open and swung it shut behind him. He stood there, his breath deep as he thought about his action. On a day when he hadn't been able to hide his innermost thoughts, the last person he wanted to see was Annie. He couldn’t, or, more to the point, wouldn't address why he couldn’t have that conversation with her, the easiest thing for him to do was to run until he could figure out what was wrong with him.
He opened his eyes finally to engage with his surroundings, on the wall opposite to him was a large map, and in front of it a desk with several paperwork piles spread across its top. A beige filing cabinet stood in the corner, half hidden by an open cupboard door as he realized where his untrustworthy feet had taken him to.
A small, bespectacled, bald man darted his head from around the wooden door, a wide smile, enveloping half his face developing on the tall man standing with his back against the door.
“Jeffrey!” the voice half cried, shrill from both surprise and excitement at his sudden luck “I didn’t hear you leave your apartment this afternoon. I must apologize for this today in the apartment block, I was standing out on my balcony, taking in the view, when I heard a noise coming from your apartment." He paused for effect, “And, as the good neighbor I am, I was looking through your window in case there was a nefarious lurker skulking around your apartment. I never meant to see you in such an” he paused, a slow blush rolling across his cheeks “Well, such an unrobed state,” he finished in an attempt at a sultry whisper.
Jeff stood there, not trusting himself to speak.
Craig, unperturbed by the silence carried on “Jeffrey, can you forgive me?”
Jeff stood there in awkward silence, his hand slowly reaching behind his back, fumbling and groping for the cool touch of the tarnished brass doorknob behind him.
“Jeffrey?” the Dean’s voice asked, his tones dripping in what might be sincerity as he continued to feel around for the doorknob.
Jeff's mouth, seemingly unable to take direction from his brain, started moving, sputtering sounds, and spitting across the room as he fought valiantly to stop his uncooperative mouth. “Dean Pelton”, he paused, “Craig," he started, using his first name for emphasis. “We both know that you listen to the wall between our apartments for the sounds of water moving through the pipes between our wall and position yourself just so in case you can catch a glance and while I’m not as disgusted by your continual advances as I make out to be-" he stopped to take a breath. “You need to quit with the obsession with me, you and me” He moved his fingers back and forwards between then, “is not going to happen"
His hand, finally grasping the round door handle, turned it in his hand and lunged out the quickly opening door.
“Jeffrey!” the Dean screamed “Jeffrey, you get back here right now!”
Jeff, for the second time that day, ran blind and headlong down the corridor between classrooms and facility offices a sudden scratching sound as the 1MC system came to life-
“Jeffrey Winger, report to the Dean’s office immediately!”
In his continued flight from one situation to another, Jeff didn’t even consider stopping as he continued running down the hall.
“Security Officer Chang! Get Winger into my office now!” the voice shrilled over the tinny speakers as Jeff launched himself from the administration building, his flight carrying him over to the resource building and hopeful safety from his traitorous mouth.
****
In his office, which was a repurposed broom closet, Security Officer Benjamin “El-Supremo" Chang spun around in his too-small office chair, his arms raised in a Han Solo style shooting position, and fired off a small dart from a plastic toy gun. The dart sailed through the air, knocking dust motes out of the way as it soared toward its target. With a wet squelching sound, the dart stuck to the faded picture of the Study Room F group, quivering on Jeff's oversized forehead. A surprisingly deep chuckle emerged from his chest, rolling from deep down until it became maniacal, reverberating around the space.
The laughter died off as Chang stood up, grabbing his Billy club and sliding it into the holster on his wide leather belt as he stood from his chair.
“Let the hunt begin."
****
In a brief wince of pain, Britta looked up at the small speaker in the ceiling as she continued to walk arm-in-arm down the hallway with Annie. “Someone really needs to take him out for a drink sometime. Jeff Winger is not all he’s cracked up to be”
In a huffed silence, Annie muttered under her breath “Some of us haven’t had the chance to find out.” She reached out for the Science Lab door, opening it to go in.
Looking through the doorway, Annie completely missed the small grin on Britta’s face.
*********************
The tinny sounds of Pelton hyperventilating into the 1MC system echoed across the campus as Jeff ducked into the study room, his eyes quickly darting around on the lookout for anyone who could make him speak, he quickly dove into the oversized sofa, sinking into the cushions in a attempt to hide himself from the wall of glass separating himself from the rear walkway.
“What in the actual hell is going on today?” he asked out loud, a strange weariness creeping into his voice as it echoed around the room, the sound bouncing off the threadbare carpet and slightly chipped walls.
“I don't understand the question” a voice answered back.
Jeff shot up from the sofa, half in a sprung launch position towards the door, his head swaying slightly from sitting up so quickly.
“The question.” the voice repeated, its location still a mystery.
Jeff spun around to see Abed sitting in the deep armchair behind him and eased back into the sofa. The fluorescent light above his head had blown months ago, casting the chair deep in shadows as he leaned forward, chewing on a large piece of green stalked vegetable.
“Abed!” Jeff practically screamed “Don't do that, you almost gave me a heart attack. You look like a bad Bond Villain."
“The Question” Abed repeated “I still don't understand."
Jeff sighed, and took in a breath “Well, it all started just after lunch in the elevator near my apartment…..”
***
“And here we are." Jeff finished, his shoulders going slack from the rambling he had gone on with. He felt like he had spoken for hours, laying his soul bare, but looking at the time, only 5 minutes had passed.
“Sounds like a movie I watched, but for the life of me I can't quite put my name on it.”
“Abed" Jeff started, “Not everything is a movie."
“Buy why not? Movies are a form of art, and the best art is the imitation of life in all its various forms."
Jeff's head spun from the circular thinking “All I know is I just need to keep my head down, finish my classes for the day and go home and hope it’s all better tomorrow."
Abed looked past Jeff and called out “What’s that movie where he can't tell a lie?”
“Abed, my life isn't a movie!” Jeff repeated, groaning into his hands.
“Liar, Liar. We watched it last week." Troy replied, dropping down heavily next to Jeff on the sofa.
“How did this movie end?” Jeff asked almost pleadingly.
Troy’s hands spun in the air, waving lazy circles as he spoke “it’s one of those 24 hour things, he learnt that he had to do better and be better than he was so as to not drive those close to him away."
Jeff looked at his watch, noticing that it was almost 4 pm time. “Okay, so in that theory, Eight hours to go. Thank you for afternoon classes.”
“Let’s test it out." Abed said, shuffling forward in his seat, his facial expression showing what looked to be intense concentration, or, for Abed, anything media or meta related “At times, you seem resentful of both Troy and my symbiotic relationship, why?” he asked.
Jeff looked carefully at him, his mind thinking of reasons why when his mouth, intent on destroying his carefully manicured reputation of not caring started for him. “I resent the fact that in all my years, I have never had a friendship like yours, and it’s not resentment, it’s jealousy and a touch of longing that one day I will have the same."
The three guys sat there, stunned by the revelation dropped from Jeff's now scowling lips. The other two sitting in the chair sat there, their mouths agape as they two digested what still echoed between them.
Suddenly, a light voice called out from across the doorway behind them “Hi guys!”
Jeff's blood ran cold as his legs ran him out the opposite door.
***
Annie walked over to the dynamic duo, Abed in the armchair and Troy still on the sofa, their mouths still agape from their encounter with a truthful Jeff.
“What are you two doing?” she asked, her voice stretching out syllables, as one does when they are unsure what they are dealing with.
Abed turned to her. “In a movie, people who are told something unbelievable usually sit there, their mouths flapping open and closed until someone else breaks the silence.”
Troy held his hand to his jaw, rubbing the skin just under both ears while he moved his jaw from side to side. “Yeah, thanks Annie. I don't know how much longer I could have kept it up for."
Her back straightened imperceptibly as she looked conspiratorially at the two. “Oh, what did you find out?”
“Yeah, what did you find out?" Britta chimed in, her textbook bouncing off the table as she dumped herself beside Troy, pressing her lips against his cheek in welcome.
“Well, you look better than during our science lesson" Annie noted to Britta as Britta reached out and took Troy’s hand, resting it on her knee.
“I took your advice, and my facon baggle from Shirley was amazing. But besides the point, what did we find out?”
Troy looked slightly confused as he looked at her “Facon?”
“While I was in New York" she paused for moment "Wait, did you guys know that I lived in New York for a while? Anyway my group put me onto Facon, or Fake Bacon.” She pulled a piece out of her pocket, the zip lock bag it was in still moist from heat condensation, “This, my friend, is the essence of crispy chickpeas and enough smoked paprika to make an old chimney blush."
She pulled the last piece out of the bag and held it out towards Troy, "Here," she offered, "a bite of the future. Take a nibble, and prepare to have your taste buds rethink their definition of bacon."
Troy pieces off with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He hesitantly picked up the Facon strip, took a tentative bite, and then... his eyes flickered like pinball lights.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, a surprised laugh escaping him. "Dude, it's like a carnival in my mouth! Salty, smoky, crunchy, all at once! Is that a hint of lime in there?"
Annie coughed in impatience as the sole of her shoe tapped against the floor “Stop side tracking us with food Britta. Abed, continue” she said impatiently, a look of worry on her face.
Abed leaned forward again, the shutters on the windows casting his face in conspiratorial shadows as he spoke. “Jeff is stuck in a movie of his own for the day. He can not tell a lie at all.”
Britta and Annie looked at each other. Annie broke the silence “No, not possible" she stated, more to Britta than the whole group.
“You wished for it" the blonde retorted, her face cracked in a grin as she let go of Troy's hand, standing up and grabbing her bag. “And now, finally, he’s going to get the therapy he needs, he can't say no!”
She raced out of the room, Annie’s voice trailing behind her “Britta, wait, you’re not a real therapist.”
***
Jeff’s second headlong flight from his small ballerina flat-clad friend was pulled up short by a shadowed menace, their small silhouette casting a long shadow down the corridor in the afternoon sun.
A billy club rattled down the length of the hallway, echoing against the lockers that lined the walls as the small figure moved towards him. “Winger!” a sharp voice called out “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
Jeff, still panting from his run, turned on a heel and promptly ran from the building into the Quad.
Chang rolled his head around his shoulders, his neck crunching in the effort, and smiled. “Well then,” he stated. “I guess it’s going to be the hard way then.”
He quickly flicked his wrist, and in a much practiced and fluid motion, put his Billy Club away and grabbed his belt, starting a slow jog, exiting out of the still swinging doors in the wake of Jeff.
***
“I don’t need this today,” he muttered under his breath as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, the jangling sound muffled by the sounds of the long-haired, no-shirted hippies enthusiastically kicking a small colorful sack between them.
He had taken the roundabout route, moving between buildings and sometimes doubling back on himself in an attempt to escape from both Chang and the possibility of running into Annie. He wasn’t sure that if he stayed on campus, he’d be lucky enough to be able to avoid her for the rest of the afternoon. The car indicators blinked twice as he thumbed the keyfob to enter his car.
Pulling the door open, he dropped into the driver's seat, throwing his books on the seat beside him as he lowered his head to the steering wheel in front of him, softly bouncing his forehead against the worn leather steering wheel. The doors clicked as they locked themselves, sealing him in from the insane outside world.
“Why did you run?” a familiar voice spoke quietly out from behind him.
Heads in the quad swung to focus on the Lexus, its tinny horn blaring as the thought to be sole occupant realized he was not alone.
“What the hell? How did you get in?” He asked when he finally got control of his rapid breathing.
“I’m an anarchist, remember?” she stated with a raised eyebrow “You think locks can stop me? You didn’t answer my question, why did you run?”
His heart still pounding a million miles a second, his mouth started before his mind could stop him “Because I’m afraid of the fallout from me being in the same room as Annie.” he blurted, swearing at himself for his cursed luck today.
“And why is that? You aren’t afraid to be trapped with me.”
“Firstly, I didn’t plan to be trapped with you, and you still haven’t properly explained how you got in here. And secondly, because I never felt the same way about you as I do about her.”
“And her being?”
Resigned to having this conversation, he started “Annie, of course.”
“What do you mean you don’t feel the same way about me as you do her?”
“When we used to sleep together, there were never any feelings behind it, never any emotion, we both used each other as a release value from the craziness of this place. And to my guilt, I used you as a way of not dealing with the connection, pull, strings, whatever you call it towards her.”
The silence in the car stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and shared regrets. Jeff leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the faded Greendale posters adorning the walls outside his window, while Britta traced invisible patterns on the worn-out center console in front of her, her thoughts swirling like the dust motes caught in the dim light.
"New York was...a lot," Britta finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could reinvent myself there, leave all the baggage behind. But some things just stick, you know?"
Jeff nodded, understanding etched on his face. "Yeah, I get that."
Britta's eyes met his, a flicker of vulnerability piercing through her usual guarded demeanor. "And then I stumbled into Greendale, and there you were—this walking disaster in a sharp suit. But you were also...kind. In your own twisted way."
Jeff's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Kind? Me?"
A soft chuckle escaped Britta's lips. "Yeah, you listened when I ranted about my acting dreams, even when I thought they were stupid. Remember that night after Señor Chang went medieval on the study group?"
A reluctant smile tugged at Jeff's lips. "Oh yeah, the paintball apocalypse. You were pinned down by that rogue paintball, and I...well, I guess I just couldn't leave you there."
Britta nodded, her gaze softening. "And you didn't. You dove in, all clumsy charm and surprising heroism. We turned that study room into a fortress, laughing so hard, dodging missiles. For a moment, it wasn't about Chang or the dean or the never-ending chaos. It was just us."
Jeff's gaze fell to his hands, a hint of regret lacing his voice. "Yeah, it was. And maybe that's why I used you, Britta. Because you saw me, the real me, even when I tried to hide it. And you still do. You call me out on my bullshit, but you also get it—the part of me that's just...lost."
Britta reached out, her fingertips brushing against his knuckles for a fleeting moment. "We're both lost, Jeff. We just wear different masks. But maybe..." she paused, taking a steadying breath, "maybe we don't have to wear them around each other anymore. Maybe we can just be us—messed up, complicated, and real—without the walls and the games."
Jeff met her gaze, a spark of vulnerability igniting in his eyes. "Maybe. But I still owe you an apology. For using you, for pushing you away. You deserve more than a late-night booty call, Britta. You deserve someone who sees you, all of you, and doesn't run. You deserve what you have with Troy."
Britta's smile held a touch of wistfulness. "Maybe you're not that bad at seeing either, Jeff. Maybe we both just need to stop running away."
The silence returned, but this time, it wasn't heavy with burdens.
“And you know Jeff” she drawled, her voice attempting to brush off the raw emotion that just passed between them, ”you weren’t THAT bad a sex, I mean, I’ve had better, I lived in New York you know, but it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be to everyone."
“I know, I think because my heart wasn’t in it, I just went through the motions. You’re not the worst either Britta, at sex or at being a friend.”
Britta made a fake retching sound in her mouth to cover the blush in her cheeks, followed by a laugh as she patted his shoulder. “Talk to her Jeff, if not today, then when?”
“Not today, anyway, if you could leave now, I’d like to finally head home.”
Britta pulled the handle and put her foot out the door. “Just think about it okay?”
Jeff nodded as he slid the key into the ignition barrel and turned the key.
“Hey Jeff!” Britta called out.
“Yes?” he replied, his hand just about to turn the car’s key over to start, bringing the engine to life.
“Looks like you're not going anywhere anytime soon,” Britta smirked as she walked away, her eyes glancing backward toward his car.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his hand falling away from the keys still hanging in the barrel as he opened his door and looked at where her eyes were falling. In his haste to get to his car, his single-mindedness had missed the bright yellow tire boot on his back tire, effectively cutting off any chance of escape. A large black stenciled label ran along the boot, identifying this to be the property of the Greendale Security Department.
Jeff's fingers hovered over the ignition, ready to roar out of the parking lot. But Britta's sly smirk and a yellow boot clamped onto his tire dashed his escape plan. Frustration bubbled into a low growl as Chang materialized from the shadows, his voice dripping with mock admiration.
"Winger, Winger, Winger," Chang drawled, hand hovering near the billy club at his side. "My superior intellect finally corners your impressive physique."
Jeff's anger erupted. He flung the cold coffee, long left and forgotten on the top of his car at Chang, staining his smug face with brown defeat. With a guttural roar, he bolted across the deserted quad, colliding headfirst into Pierce Hawthorne's holographic presence.
This time, however, the hologram wasn't spouting the usual platitudes. With an uncharacteristic urgency, it boomed, "Winger, the Annex! Strategic retreat! Divert the Chang!"
Jeff, desperate and bewildered, looked around. His eyes caught the smooth chiseled siding of the Air Conditioning Repair Annex squatting near the edge of campus. Inspiration struck. With a mischievous grin, he sprinted towards the Annex, its yellowing window illuminating the promise of cool, dark tunnels.
He flung open the creaking door, the sound echoing through the dusty labyrinth of pipes and ductwork. He ran, the clanging of the boot against the concrete floor becoming a frantic drumbeat. Chang's angry shouts and heavy footsteps pounded like a relentless storm behind him.
Jeff knew time was short. He ducked into a dimly lit corridor, the stale air smelling of grease and forgotten tools. He saw it then, a ventilation shaft dangling invitingly above. It was a tight fit, but adrenaline-fueled his movements as he scrambled up, squeezing through the metal tunnel and emerging into the dusty attic above.
He crawled deeper into the shadows, the sound of Chang's frustrated bellow fading below. Relief washed over him, tinged with a newfound determination. He wasn't trapped; he was hidden. Pierce's words, delivered through the malfunctioning hologram, had bought him time and escape.
From his attic perch, Jeff watched as Chang burst into the Annex, his eyes scanning the darkened corridors. He followed the trail of the boot's clangs, frustration mounting at every empty corner. Finally, he reached the end of the hallway, the metal echoing his silent rage.
Suddenly, a voice filled the silence – Pierce's hologram, booming from somewhere within the dusty labyrinth. "Outfoxed, Chang! The Winger strikes again!"
Jeff chuckled, a mix of triumph and amusement bubbling inside him. The Annex, this forgotten corner of Greendale, had become his unexpected haven. He sank deeper into the dusty shadows, a plan slowly taking shape in his mind. It wasn't just about escape anymore; it was about outsmarting, about turning Chang's obsession against him.
Suddenly, a metallic tang filled the air, swirling through the cracks in the walls. It was faint, just a whisper of the notorious Greendale gas leak, but enough to stir something within Jeff. With his vision blurred, eyelids growing heavy and his head beginning to sink to the floor of the attic, he succumbed to the miasma around him.
************
Meanwhile, while Jeff was snoring softly in the drifting dust motes of the Annex’s attic, Chang stalked back to the Administration Building, his forcefully heavy footsteps echoing down the now abandoned hallway, the majority of staff now having left for the day as the last vestiges of twilight fell on the campus. Flinging the door to the Dean’s office, Chang stomped in, finding the Dean sitting in his chair, his hands nervously wringing themselves in anticipation of his upcoming encounter with Jeffery.
“Where is he?” Craig launched before Chang had time to close the door.
“The slippery little cockroach escaped into the Repairs Annex” Chang spat, his feet carrying him around the room, muttering to himself under his breath. “You know I have no jurisdiction in there”
“So what do we do now?” Craig questioned, his brain running with millions of ideas, thinking of which of his sister's costumes he could wear to lure Jeffery to him.
Chang, still pacing like a caged predator, stopped abruptly. "Edison," he mused, the words hanging heavy in the silence. “We could use her to bait him out”
The Dean winced, memories of her laser focus flashing before his eyes. "Chang, please, I beg you," he rasped, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline. "Remember the Model UN incident? Remember the paintball fiasco? Even the slightest misstep...she'll flatten us both with a well-placed textbook and a glare that could curdle milk."
Chang, however, seemed oddly impervious to the Dean's fear. A slow grin spread across his face, though, not entirely devoid of genuine terror. "Fear, Dean? Fear is a seasoning, a dash of paprika in the spicy casserole of this plan. We lure her with the irresistible aroma of study sessions, whispers of Chang-fu mastery, perhaps even a hint of Jeff Winger's...undying affection." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "But the real prize, my friend, is the cockroach himself. We dangle Annie like a juicy roach motel lure, and Winger, drawn by his own deluded charm, will crawl right in."
But as Chang finished his spiel, a beat of uncomfortable silence followed. The Dean's eyes flitted nervously towards the door, while Chang's grin faltered for a brief moment. He cleared his throat, the booming laughter dying in his chest. "Of course," he continued, a touch too forcefully, "we always have Plan B. The cameras, Dean. Those glorious, all-seeing eyes of Greendale security. We'll track Winger like a rogue squirrel, corner him like a trapped raccoon, and this time..." His voice cracked, "...this time, the gremlin will finally snare the cockroach."
The last word hung in the air, heavy with a shared unspoken realization: Annie was simply too unpredictable, too terrifying to be used as bait. Plan B, despite its lack of immediate theatrics, was the safer, less likely-to-result-in-broken-bones option. The two men united in their newfound fear of Annie, turned their attention to the network of security cameras flanking the hallway. As their gazes met, a silent agreement passed between them. The hunt, albeit through grainy, pixelated lenses, continued.
************************
The fluorescent lights hummed a melancholic tune as Annie hunched over her laptop in the deserted study room. The weight of Jeff's predicament, hunted by Chang and the Dean, cast a shadow on her usually bright demeanor. A sigh escaped her lips, swirling like smoke in the stale air.
Suddenly, a flicker of light danced on the whiteboard, condensing into a familiar, holographic form. Pierce Hawthorne, clad loud Hawaiian shirt and a smirk that could rival a used car salesman, materialized before her. His eyes, despite the digital shimmer, held a hint of the gruff warmth she remembered from their past encounters.
"Annie-bird," he drawled, his voice a rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. "Lost your favorite pen again? Or is something weighin' heavy on that brilliant mind of yours?"
Annie flinched, surprised by the sudden appearance. "Pierce. How – I mean, why –"
He chuckled, a dry, crackling sound. "Always with the questions, weren't you? Curiosity's a fine quality, but sometimes you gotta let the mysteries simmer, you know? Now, tell me, what's got your gears grindin' like a blender in a frat house?"
Annie bit her lip, her fingers nervously tapping the keyboard. "It's complicated, Pierce. Jeff… he's in trouble, and… well, I…"
Pierce leaned back, his spectral form shimmering a little with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still fixated on that charming rascal, Annie-bird. You, with your big dreams and sharper mind than any textbook – you deserve more than a washed-up lawyer playing pretend at community college." He paused, his eyes softening. "Remember what I told you, kiddo? You're no damsel in distress anymore. You're Annie Edison, future leader of something much bigger than Greendale's version of a Shakespearean tragedy."
His words struck a chord. They were a reminder of the future she'd meticulously built, brick by painful brick, after overcoming her past. A future of purpose, of leaving behind the label of 'troubled teen' like a discarded costume.
"But Pierce," she whispered, her voice raw with emotion, "Jeff… he makes me think. He makes me laugh. He reminds me I don't have to be so… uptight all the time."
Pierce gave a gruff snort. "He makes you laugh, sure. But that laugh comes with a price, Annie. Don't let his silver tongue and borrowed swagger make you forget your worth. You're worth more than a temporary distraction, kiddo."
He reached out, his holographic hand almost brushing hers. "Help him if you must, but do it on your own terms. Do it because you're strong, smart, and capable. And remember, Annie-bird," he winked, his voice fading, "sometimes the best way to fly is to leave the ground under the feet of those who can't keep up."
Annie's breath hitched as the hologram flickered out, the silence of the study room pressing in thicker than before. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, Pierce's words echoing in her head like the fading notes of a haunting melody. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a question erupted from the depths of her bewilderment, a sound cut through the air.
A low, throaty chuckle, laced with the familiar cynicism that only belonged to one man. It emerged from the shadows cast by the flickering fluorescent lights, a wisp of smoke curling through the stillness. Annie's eyes darted towards the source, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Wait a second, how did..." she began, voice trembling as she stumbled over the words. Her sentence died mid-air, replaced by a gasp that escaped her lips like a startled bird.
"But did I?" he purred, his voice close, almost brushing against her ear. He stepped into the dim light, a tangible phantom playing tricks on her perception. "Did I really wink out, my dear Annie-bird? Or did I simply…shift modes, let's say."
Annie stared at him, her mouth agape, unable to reconcile the impossible sight with the cold reality of Pierce's supposed demise. Was this some elaborate hallucination, a figment of her guilt and worry? Or was Pierce, somehow, alive?
"But…but everyone says you're…" she stammered, the words twisting in her throat.
Pierce chuckled again, a dry, crackling sound. "Ah, the joys of being underestimated," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a secret understanding. "The world loves a good obituary, Annie. But sometimes, the obituary is just…incomplete."
***********
With a jolt, Jeff found himself bathed in an ethereal light, surrounded by a field of wildflowers under a sun-drenched sky.
Before him flew Shirley Bennett, radiant in a flowing white gown, her wings shimmering like stained glass as they slowly undulated to keep her aloft. "Jeffery," her voice boomed, a celestial blend of authority and sass, "you've stumbled into a sticky wicket, but fear not, for Shirley's here to sweeten the deal."
Jeff, disoriented, blinked. "Shirley? You're...an angel?"
"Did you ever have any doubt? Now, honey," she quipped, adjusting her halo, "let's just say I'm here to offer some divine inspiration." She winked, her wings catching the sunlight like prisms. "Chang's a gremlin with a Napoleon complex," she declared, "and you can't out-lawyer a man who thinks courtrooms are fancy chicken coops. But you, Jeff Winger, you've got charm. More charm than a vat of maple syrup. Time to use it, and not just to butter up single moms at PTA meetings."
As Shirley spoke, the scene around them flickered, morphing into the dusty attic. The metallic tang was back, the harsh reality of the situation reasserting itself. Jeff jolted awake, the dream's remnants swirling in his mind. He sat up, a smirk replacing his initial shock. "Well, hot damn, Shirley," he muttered, his voice echoing in the silence.
****
Their faces glued to the monochromatic security monitors, Chang and Craig sat glued to their chairs, rapt in the continual rolling refresh of the campus.
“There, you see” Craig pointed excitedly at a monitor in the middle of the bank.
Chang squinted, his eyes narrowing down into the tall man furtively glancing around the corner of the Repairs Annex towards the parking lot.
“Round three Winger”
*****
Jeff's heart hammered against his ribs, a drum solo accompanying the frantic jingle of his keys. Eleven thirty PM, and he just wanted to get out of this nightmare day. He scanned the deserted campus, shadows stretching like claws from the Administration building. His car, a beacon of hope under a dim lamp post, was marred by the bright yellow boot mockingly gleaming on its rear wheel.
"Keys," he muttered, more to himself than the night. "If they're anywhere, they'll be in there." He glanced towards the Admin building, its façade as impassive as Chang's usual smirk. A groan escaped his lips. If Chang wasn't plotting world domination in that building, he wasn't Chang.
Sticking to the shadows, Jeff slunk towards the double doors. With a gentle push, and they creaked open with a rusty whine, revealing a dimly lit hallway that swallowed the darkness beyond. He took a tentative step inside, his senses on high alert.
Then, silence. Too much silence.
A sudden "whomp" echoed from above, the air thick with dust. Before Jeff could react, a net engulfed him, dragging him upwards with a sickening jolt. He dangled, helpless, a spider caught in a madman's web.
A harsh beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing Chang's triumphant grin reflected in his thick glasses. "The cockroach has been captured," his voice crackled into a walkie-talkie. "Repeat, cockroach has been captured."
The door creaked open again, and Craig sauntered in, straightening his tie with an air of practiced elegance. "So, Winger," he drawled, settling into a chair with a practiced nonchalance, "let's continue our little chat like gentlemen, shall we?"
Jeff, adrenaline surging, roared and strained against the net. The ceiling groaned, then with a final, dramatic crack, gave way. He plummeted, showering Chang and Craig in a cloud of plaster and dust.
Without a second thought, Jeff scrambled to his feet and bolted from the building. Sprinting across the grassed area, his foot caught on the damn hacky sack, sending him sprawling across the grass. But he didn't stop. He rolled, scrambled, and surged towards the Resource Center, the unlocked door offering a temporary haven from the madness outside.
***********
“Jeffrey!” Craig called out, “Lets stop and talk about this like two consenting adults!” He panted through a ragged breath.
“Winger, give yourself up!” Chang echoed, striking an unoffending bin with his billy club as he passed, his cheap leather shoes squeaking against the cool hard concrete of the quad.
Jeff concentrated on losing his pursuers as he scanned the array of buildings in front of him. Pulling a quick faint to his left, he dove right into the library and took several lefts and rights, pausing and holding his breath as he listened for his persistent followers.
Straining, he heard the doors open and close and footsteps tap on the tiles, followed by shallow whispers.
“He’s in here somewhere” Craig murmured under his breath “Find him and you can have your underlings”
Chang chuckled as he called out “Ohhhhhh Wiiiiinnnnnggggger” he started, stretching out his syllables “Come out and plaaaayyyyyyyyy”, his billy club rattling along the line of lockers stretching backward into the dark hall.
Jeff ducked under the autobiographies, feeling like a rogue navigating a dusty library cave. He reached a small, unassuming door and turned the handle with the stealth of a secret agent. No creaks, no groans, just a satisfying click and a glimpse of… well, not more dust at least. This hidden room was surprisingly neat, shelves overflowing with ancient tomes whispering secrets from forgotten pages.
A dim light flickered from within, highlighting a lone figure leaning against the window. Jeff's heart, already doing a tap dance routine in his chest, went full disco when he recognized the figure's fiery hair and sparkling eyes.
"Annie?" he rasped, feeling like a rusty hinge in need of WD-40.
The figure turned, revealing a mischievous glint beneath her lashes.
"Well, Winger," she said, her voice a whisper that tickled his ear, but also tinged with a soft sadness "didn't expect to find you still here at midnight”
Jeff swallowed, caught between embarrassment and the sudden urge to blurt out every silly, stupid truth swirling in his brain. "Actually," he choked out, "I was looking for... uh... the meaning of life?"
Annie raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "And found it hiding in a hidden library closet? Impressive."
Jeff's heart stuttered, caught between the warmth of her smile and the impending confession burning on his tongue. He couldn't help but crack a smile, a hesitant response to her playful jab. "Not quite," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I did find..."
He paused, the weight of his words threatening to crush him. He stepped closer, drawn by an invisible thread he couldn't quite name. Annie watched him approach, her amusement fading into a soft anticipation. A soft chime reverberated through the small closed room, as the sole clock struck midnight, its sound echoing, yet unheard by all of present.
"I found you," he finally confessed, his voice husky with a mix of vulnerability and longing. "And whenever I get close to you, my brain goes on vacation. It's like your cherry lip gloss casts a spell, and I lose all my judgment in a haze."
Annie's eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Is that so?" she whispered, her voice laced with a playful curiosity.
He nodded, his gaze tracing the curve of her lips. "Every time I see you, Annie, you're like a vision at the crossroads. You stand there, suitcase in hand, a symbol of possibilities, and I…" He faltered, his voice catching in his throat. "I just want to grab that suitcase and walk away with you, to whatever adventure awaits."
He took a step closer, drawn by the warmth radiating from her like a beacon in the dim room. "I'm afraid, Annie," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm afraid that one day, I'll do something so stupid, so heartbreakingly boneheaded, that you'll walk away and never look back."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Annie's gaze softened, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. "Jeff," she said, her voice a gentle caress, "maybe the real adventure isn't running away with someone's suitcase. Maybe it's learning to trust your heart, even when it beats a little too fast around me."
Her words were a balm to his soul, a spark of hope in the darkness. He met her gaze, his own filled with a newfound determination. "You're right," he breathed, his lips curving into a hesitant smile. "Maybe it's time I stopped running and started facing the truth, even if that truth is a little terrifying."
A sudden clang from the door shattered the quiet. Chang's voice boomed through the room, laced with a mixture of anger and fear. "Winger! I know you're in there! Open up!"
Annie's eyes narrowed. "Chang, if you open that door, I'll tell everyone everything," she declared, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in her hands.
The banging ceased abruptly, replaced by Craig's frantic pleas. "Annie, please! We can work this out!"
Annie's lips tightened. "Everything, Chang," she said, her voice ringing with a steely resolve. "Every lie you've told, every manipulation, every time you've used me."
A beat of silence, then the sound of Chang sighing in defeat. "Well, that’s me done. Come on, Dean. Let's go."
Footsteps receded down the hallway, leaving Jeff and Annie alone in the dimly lit room. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a close call amplifying the weight of their near-confession.
Jeff tilted his head back and laughed, the wariness of the long day causing a nervous tremor in his voice. "Oh Annie Edison," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "I love you."
Annie's eyes widened, a flush painting her cheeks a delicate pink. "So, Did you actually mean what you just said?" she said, a playful glint in her eyes and leaving the echoes lingering in the air.
He stepped closer, his heart pounding against his ribs. "Every word, Annie," he whispered, his voice raw with sincerity. "Every damn silly, stupid, heartfelt word."
A sudden click resonated through the room. The door, no longer a source of threat, slowly swung open, allowing in the faint breeze and the promise of a new day.
Annie's eyes widened in surprise. "Well," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Looks like we have some time to talk."
Jeff grinned, his nerves melting away. "All the time in the world, Annie," he said, his voice filled with a newfound hope. "All the time in the world."