Not the guys, surprisingly

Tom continued to glare at Nicole, grinding his teeth as he looked down at her. From where you were sitting, it seemed that Nicole had outsmarted Tom again. Backed into a corner made up of his own ego and masculinity, it seemed like his only option to save face was to just do what Nicole said. She knew it too. The corners of her mouth upturned into a smug little smile, and her blue eyes seemed to twinkle as she stared back at the angry man almost twice her height.

The smirk she wore faltered, however, when Tom finally snorted a laugh.

"I know what you're doing," he said.

"Oh yeah?" Nicole answered, cocking her head as if to ask "What am I doing?"

"You're bluffing," Tom laughed again, "You're not gonna go out there because you're scared, you're just acting like you will to try and **** me into doing it. Well that's okay fairy princess, you just stay right here where it's safe, while the strong men can go investigate the big scary noise, okay pumpkin?"

Tom's tone dripping with sarcasm and condescension was already enough to make Nicole's blood boil, her pale cheeks pinkening as she frowned at him. What Tom did next, however, really crossed the line. Anticipatory schadenfreude and a little genuine fear mixed together inside you as you watched Tom raise a hand towards Nicole's head. Unaware of the danger he was putting himself in, he reached out and patted Nicole on the head, playfully ruffling her short blonde hair.

One thing you had learned from all your years of teasing, laughing, and playing around with Nicole, was that you never, ever, patted her on the head. It was the most surefire way to bring the goodtimes to an end and to receive an earful or a sprained wrist for your trouble. Watching Tom do it was like watching a particularly annoying kid reach towards a hot stove.

Poor Tom didn't even get a chance to pull his hand back. With cat-like speed, Nicole seized it it with both hands. In an instant she had him in a painfully familiar wrist lock, one that drove a pained gasp from Tom as she bent his wrist out of shape. Everyone knew that Nicole had done gymnastics, fewer people knew that the same gym had offered self-defense classes. As a result, Nicole could lock in a joint lock as effortlessly as she could do the splits.

As Tom kept grunting in pain, his arm being turned away from his body by the tiny girl in front of him, she leant towards his face. "Do not, pat me, on the head," she stated coldly. You couldn't help but smile as Nicole added another degree of torque to Tom's wrist.

"Agh! I won't, I won't, sorry," he gasped, wincing in pain.

"Good," Nicole smiled, before finally releasing her grip. Instantly, Tom stepped back, clutching his wrist and looking at it as if it was broken. Now that the moment of tension had ended, everyone else was free to laugh at him getting his just desserts, a chorus at his expense that Tom didn't appreciate.

"Fuck," he hissed, "you could have broke my arm, you crazy bitch."

"Serves you right for touching someone without permission," Miranda called out with a grin, which made you smile as well. Seeing your crush make fun of Tom was a welcome change from her sitting close beside him on the couch.

"I hope you've learned your lesson," Nicole said, meeting Tom's pitiful glare with a smile, "But I guess I just proved that you shouldn't have to go out there, I'm clearly more capable of defending myself than you are. Maybe you should stay here where you'll be safe."

Nicole's tone was jokey and mocking, but you could tell that she at least partly believed her words.

"I'm still willing to go outside and look Nicole, if somebody has to," you said. Your interjection had duel motives. You didn't want Nicole to get full of herself and head out alone, and you also secretly wanted to look strong and brave in front of Miranda. A quick glance to her smiling beneath her cute cat make-up validated your decision to speak.

"Hey, I can still go out," Tom interjected, "I can totally defend myself, you just . . . sucker punched me is all." From the way Tom sulked and nursed his wrist, it was obvious that his pride was more wounded than his arm.

"Whoever's gonna go, can we just decide?" Matt asked, taking off his sunglasses in frustration, "we're just talking in circles."

Thinking about it for a second, he was completely right. You had gotten no closer to deciding anything, and if there was someone out there who needed help, then every second spent arguing was going to waste. It was time to just bite the bullet and decide.