Talk about Summer's personal life.

This might be your only chance to avoid telling Summer anything that could get the others getting caught somehow. You didn’t know how well Summer could trick or corner you into a situation where you accidentally tell more than what you should.

“Well,” you look around the room and sigh. “Whatever you tell me in this room, I’ll keep to myself. That’s one good thing about being an outsider, I guess. So who am I going to gossip with?”

Summer smiles. “That the silver tongue, you mentioned at lunch?”

You shrug. “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. Just do what you are comfortable with.”

She swallows and glances at the door. “So, I’m dating Langley, and I suspect he’s sleeping with someone else.”

“Oh,” you aren’t sure how to follow up, but you try anyway. “Is… are you two serious about each other?”

“We’ve been with each other long enough that we might get married,” she says, but you can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

You fidget and glance back at the door before speaking. “Why would he do that? You’re hot!”

Summer grins and shakes her head. “Thanks, I guess. But, recently, he said I’m too flirty with some of the other men, and then I said he’s been too close with this other girl and today he complained about me talking to you, like as if I was going to like-like, sleep with you or something.”

“You don’t strike me as a very flirty girl.”

“That’s- wow, thanks. Actually seriously. That’s what I tried to say. He’s accused me of doing all this BS, and I’m not,” Summer throws down her pen and paper. “I KNOW he’s sleeping with that girl, though; I just don’t have any proof to confront him. It seriously pisses me off.”

Under all that professionalism is a girl that loves gossip, she looks amused with the sudden turn this conversation as taken. There's a twinkle in her eyes as she brings her gaze to different corners of the room, a pinch of pink goes over her cheeks. “Does he think you’re doing with someone in specific?” You ask.

Another head shake. “No. Personally, I feel like just doing it with anyone to jab back at him, but I feel like that’s a little low, you know?”

A dumb, perverted thought comes to your mind, and you snicker, prompting Summer to knit her eyebrows at you. Then, when she asks what you’re finding funny, you offer your “services” for her.

Summer’s expression dulls, and she studies you. “I’m just that petty.”

You squint and cross your arms. “Are you being serious?”

She shrugs. “If he’s going accuse me of doing what he’s doing, what’s the harm?”

You feel that’s right, but also pretty wrong. She presses her chest together subtly and bites her lower lips. Her eyes are like sapphires as they now glow suggestively. "What do you say, Warren?"